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“Brother, I owe you one,” said Brax, handing the last child off to Aaron.

“You don’t owe me shit,” he said. “We’re going to get them to the medical center and tell them we found them on a loose raft. That way, no one knows anything about what you’re doing.”

All of the victims were asleep and barely moved when they were transferred to the small Navy vessel.

“The others should be coming along soon,” said Pax. “Once they get the victims off the boat, you’ll be free to arrest those left on board.”

“We can’t, Pax. We’ve been told to stand down on this, and I still don’t know why. Even the Coast Guard is being told to stand down.”

“What the fuck does this guy have on us?” asked Moose.

“Alright,” nodded Brax. “We get the victims off the boat, chain the others, and sink it.”

“Sounds like equal justice to me,” said Aaron. “You’d better get moving. They should be coming into view in the next thirty minutes. It will be daylight in two hours.”

“Can’t thank you enough, brother,” said Brax, shaking his hand. Moose and Pax did the same.

“Believe me, this was one I was happy to stick my nose in.”

“If you get any feedback from the Navy, call us. We can probably help,” said Pax. “Either way, when you’re done here, give us a call.”

“Seriously?” smirked Aaron.

“Fucking right. You showed us what you’re made of and how you operate. Appreciate all you’ve done.”

Racing against the sun, they took off up the coast, where, with any luck, the others would handle the other boat and put it in high gear, meeting them to take down Mason and Moravo.

“Heads up,” said Dan. “They’ve just chained everyone to the deck. Get ready to board that fucking boat!”

The Irene sped up, running alongside the slower vessel that was grossly overcrowded. With the boat and everyone on her in stealth, they easily leaped from one deck to the other without anyone noticing.

The victims were already well aware that something was wrong. Many were crying, others praying and calling out for help.

“Shut up!” yelled a deckhand. “It will be over quickly. Geez, these fucking gimps. They never stop whining.”

“Man, they’re scared,” said another deckhand.

“I don’t care.”

“I do,” said the deep voice. The two men turned, staring at their crying victims.

“Who said that?”

“I heard it too,” said the other man.

In low, soft Spanish, East and Eazee directed the victims to close their eyes, and everything would be alright. They told them that angels had come to rescue them and they would go home soon.

One by one, the chains were cut with bolt cutters and the deckhands stared at the seemingly magical metal links clanking to the deck.

Then, without any assistance from the men onboard, the victims were raised up, placed in lifeboats over the side of the large vessel. It appeared that they were floating in the air, being carried away on the winds.

“Wh-what’s happening?” asked one of the deckhands. “Are we in the Bermuda Triangle?”

“We’re not near Bermuda, you idiot!”

“You got that right,” said another voice from behind them. The deckhands turned in circles, not caring that the victims were being magically lifted off, only caring that they were losing their minds.

As the lifeboats disappeared into the night, headed toward the safe beaches in the distance, the men all looked at one another.

“What the hell just happened? Where are they? Who is driving those fucking lifeboats?” he yelled.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” smirked Dan, lifting the stealth netting from his blackened face. Five other men did the same, staring at the shocked expressions of the evil kidnappers. “You’re going to be good little sailors and go down with the ship. Chain them to the decks.”

Not even realizing that they’d been surrounded by other men, they were easily brought down to the deck and chained with brand-new chains. Their phones were tossed overboard, and the boat was shut down, dead in the water.

“You can’t do this! We have families,” said one of the men.

“Are you fucking with me right now?” said Saint. “You were going to kill all those poor people on this boat while you safely escaped once again. Do you think I give a flying fuck nugget about your family? You make me sick, and in case you missed it, Mason and Moravo will be dead by tonight.”

“Wait! Wait, no, I can help you,” he called out.

“Shut up,” said the man next to him. “At least die honorably.”

“Fuck that. I didn’t want this damn job. I needed it.”

“Flip burgers in your next life,” said Dan.

“No. No, you don’t understand. They’ll get away with it because they have help.”

“We know that,” said Christopher.

“They get away with it because someone in Homeland or the Navy lets them. The person convinces the Navy and Coast Guard that they have to stand down. No one asks questions, so no one gets arrested.” Dan stared at Patrick and Christopher.

“Who is this person? Some random person in the Navy or at Homeland can’t do that. Someone in D.C.?” asked Patrick.

“No. No, all I heard was that he was the chief on the west coast. I don’t know his name. Please, please let me go. I helped you!”

“Sorry. I’m just not feeling generous today.”

As the last lifeboat from the Irene containing the team moved toward the beach, they watched as the flames licked the sky with the sinking boat. No one would survive and not one of them felt any guilt whatsoever about it.

“Glad to see you boys made it,” said Aaron as they stepped onto the beach. “We got the victims on the yacht taken into the hospital. Your boat is parked at our slip down there. Interesting piece of equipment.” He smirked at the men, shaking his head.

“Maybe one day we’ll clue you in,” said Dan. “Thanks for the help.”

“Your team has about a ninety-minute head start. Will you catch them?” Patrick smiled at him.

“We’re already there.”