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The rescue team is headed to Colombia. Even though I’m not allowed to film the event, the sheer enormity of what is about to happen could never be captured on film. These people with hearts of lions are putting their lives on the line to save others.
The excitement is palpable but tempered with a steely determination. Every face has a similar expression of intent. Their eyes fiercely convey their mission. They will save these victims and bring down their perpetrators. Why do they do what they do? What brought them to this time, this moment?
I hope to be allowed to learn that from each of them.
The group consists of eight men and women, all in their twenties and mid to late thirties. Physically fit, yes, but there’s more than that. There’s strength, there’s compassion, there’s purpose.
What made these people into warriors? Who are they? Why them?
“All right. Listen up.”
Startled, she glanced up to see Liam Stryker standing at the front of the plane. A large monitor had lowered from the ceiling and the blueprints of a house appeared on the screen. The exterior, red brick and modern looking, gave no indication at all of the evil that went on inside.
“The schematics are on your tablets. As before, we have the approval of the Colombian government, but this time we’re going in without local authorities knowing.”
“Why’s that?” Jazz asked.
“Turns out a clerk in the constable’s office is related to one of the traffickers. He’s the one that informed the traffickers we were coming and when.”
“But Myron…” Jazz began.
“Wasn’t needed. And knowing him, he didn’t give up anything.”
“That was a message for you.” Gideon’s grim tone matched his fierce demeanor.
“Yes.”
There were nuances behind that word that held a world of bleakness. If she’d thought Liam Stryker looked intense before, that was nothing compared to the fury burning in his eyes now. Someone had crossed him. And that someone would pay.
“That’s for me to worry about at another time. For now, let’s talk about how we’re going to get these people out. We can’t let them down again.”
He turned toward the screen. “There’s a hill behind the house. We’ll set up camp there and do reconnaissance. We’ll go in an hour before dawn. Jazz, you and Ms. Starr will stay at the camp and coordinate with the aid workers.”
No. She hadn’t come on this trip to stay behind. Aubrey opened her mouth to object but stopped when she caught Asher Drake’s eye. He gave a quick, subtle shake of his head. She immediately understood his meaning. Now was not the time to state her case. The OZ leader had promised that she would be allowed on this raid. She believed he would keep that promise. He would speak with Liam Stryker on her behalf.
She returned her attention to the other assignments Stryker made, impressed with his thoroughness and the confidence he exuded. This man had given this operation careful thought and would do everything within his power to make sure it was successful.
For the first time, Aubrey allowed herself to think about the victims who were about to be rescued. Normally when she was in the middle of a project, she focused on the work. She had a deep empathy for each victim but allowing herself to be drawn into their sadness wasn’t helpful in getting their story told. She had to maintain distance, not only for the story, but also for herself. But for a few moments she gave thought to who they were, what they’d experienced. Would they recover? Could they?
Though her time with her captors had been limited, she had experienced pain, degradation, and a violation no human being should ever have to endure. Her memories of that time were crystal clear. Even after years of therapy and self-care, she fought against them daily.
She had interviewed numerous trafficking victims. All ethnicities, genders, and ages had been touched and ravaged by the evil industry of selling and using human beings for profit. Recovery was possible, but there would always be the memory of horror. That never went away.
“Any questions?” Stryker asked.
“Do we know how many victims yet?” Jazz asked.
“Latest intel says between eight and fifteen. All women, no children.”
“That’s a small blessing,” Aubrey said.
Every eye turned to her. It was the first time she’d spoken to the group as a whole, and her words had captured everyone’s attention. Several operatives nodded their agreement.
“Yes,” Stryker said.
She had only ever seen the aftermath of child trafficking. The loss of innocence in a child’s eyes was one of the hardest things she’d ever witnessed.
“Here’s the plan.”