Page 52 of Rescued By the Operative

I should be happy that the feds have already swept in and taken Moffatt into custody.

But still, I feel an empty pang at seeing these women all together. I miss the idea of a mother, the possibility of siblings, and a big family to support me at this phase in my life.

And yet, I’m so, so happy for these women who have gotten out, even if many of them were reluctant to leave.

While the elders were busy holed up in their meeting house — watching and rewatching the video that Ennis sent them, and strategizing on how to get him back — we all jumped into action. The Wylie Gang lured everyone out from under the elders’ noses. All it took was a neighborly promise of a hot meal for them and their children.

The hot meal was not a lie. The folks at the bakery, coffee shop, and the steakhouse in town came together and set out a table in the barn, and it’s laden down with soups, chili, casseroles, and breads. It’s enough to feed an army, which this kind of is.

There’s still the problem of the gaping hole in the wall at the prison. Once the elders discover it, the tunnel strategy is over. But in my entire time of working there, none of the men ever came to check on us. Now that Georgie’s out and no one is occupying the facility, I hope we have enough time to extract as many people as possible.

And if anyone’s in danger, I have no doubt the Wylie Gang will help them.

I jump when someone places a gentle hand on my shoulder. I look, and Jasmyn is next to me.

“Are you OK?”

“Mostly,” I say. “A little jumpy.”

She sees right through this. “It’s OK if this is emotional for you. I don’t have my parents, either.”

I look at Jasmyn —really look at her —and I can see it in her eyes. We’re both missing something. I have nothing to complain about, though. From what I know of Jasmyn, she had a much rougher start than I did.

The wall comes down, and I let her see my lip tremble. “I feel bad for feeling sad right now,” I say. “I guess I’m feeling sorry for myself.”

“It’s OK,” she says with a smile. “You found a new family. We both did.”

A newfound family. I like that. I let her squeeze my hand, and I know I’ve made a friend.

“The lack of young men and teenage boys in this group is frankly unsettling,” I say.

“The Lost Boys,” Jasmyn says. “Olivia told me all about that. It’s something they covered up when I was inside the cult.”

She shudders, and I drop the subject altogether. But the idea of teen boys out there in the world, alone, weighs heavily on my heart, and I would guess it always will.

“Nelly, can you come outside for a second?”

The question comes from Jake, standing in the open barn door.

I look over at Jasmyn and give her a squeeze before I go.

Outside, Jake, Ennis, and their uncle are standing around looking at a phone screen.

“Curly, show her what you showed me,” Jake says.

I smile because it’s still weird to hear this man referred to by the nickname “Curly.”

“Yeah, Curly, show me what you got,” I tease.

My mentor shoots me a dirty look, then hands me his phone, which is open to the same tracking app I use to track my chaperones’ cars.

All points on the app show our targets heading straight to an address on the opposite side of the county.

“Ennis added a fake location tag on the video he sent to the elders,” Carl tells me. “Once they arrive, a team of federal agents will be waiting to arrest them.”

I’m disappointed I won’t be there to see it, but Carl says we’re needed here to oversee the relocation of everyone and make sure they’re safe, and that there’s no more threats on the ground at the compound. The government has chartered buses to take everyone who wants to go to several different, more secure, safe houses.

All this time, I didn’t think I was gathering enough evidence, but it turns out, there’s a laundry list of federal charges awaiting these fuckers, all based on the bugs and cameras I planted and the narratives I provided to Carl. Not just forced domestic servitude, but multiple murders, illegal firearms possession, and more.