Chapter Twenty-Nine

“Y ou don’t want to do this,” Olivia warned, grasping at straws and wishing she had her weapon with her. “We have backup, people in high places who know exactly where we are.”

“Be that as it may,” Alasdair shrugged again. “I’ll be long out of the country by the time your ‘help’ discovers that you’re gone.” He made air quotes with his free hand at the word help. “I knew better than to stick around, once Alana told me that you had figured it out. It’s disappointing, really.” He dragged the ending out for longer than it needed to be. “We had a great operation going.”

“A great operation that lures underage kids to their doom,” Olivia rumbled. “Nothing about that is right.”

“It’s good business.” Alasdair shrugged. “I don’t ask questions. I just bring them to the warehouse and ship them out when needed. Nothing personal about it.”

“It’s not about being personal!” Olivia cried. “It’s about being moral!”

“Morality doesn’t pay well.” He raised the gun, his voice rumbling in rage. “In case you haven’t noticed.”

The gun in his hand, along with his arm, his body, the men surrounding him suddenly lit up from a light that was not from the ship. A spotlight, maybe from a helicopter? No, Olivia didn’t hear anything over the churning of the waters or the engine. Was that another engine? Hope reignited in her heart as a voice magnified tenfold by a megaphone crackled through the night air.

“This is the United States Coast Guard! We have you completely surrounded. Stop the ship and put your weapons down!”

“About time you guys showed up,” Brock muttered before he lunged for the guy next to him. He clutched the man’s shirt with clawed fingers. Using the element of surprise, he brought his face down to meet his upturned knee, resulting in a groan of pain from the unfortunate man. Olivia jumped into action herself, not wasting this precious moment. Using the same tactic that Brock did, she twisted his wrist and the gun clattered to the deck of the ship, after an agonized groan from the gunman.

Alasdair’s gun went off, but Brock jumped out of the way and Olivia ducked, leaving the bullet nowhere to go but toward the Coast Guard who were commanding the ship to a stop. She felt the ship still beneath her, rising up and down with the waves but slowing its pace. She clutched the gun she’d disarmed and swung it around, pointing it at Alasdair. “Drop your weapon!”

He fired again, but a quick returned round from Olivia drew blood from his right arm. He uttered a cry of pain as the gun went flying from his hand. His free hand clapped over the wound, blood oozing through his fingertips .

Somehow, between all of this, the ship shuddered to a stop and the Coast Guard began to storm the deck of the ship. Amid the shouts and commands for weapons to be dropped and hands in the air, the commander found his way over to Olivia and Brock.

“Hey. You guys okay?”

Olivia shook from the adrenaline rush of being shot at, even though she was used to it by now. “Yeah. Thank you.”

“We have reason to suspect that there are trafficking victims on board.” Brock hurriedly explained.

“I’ll pass this along.” The captain turned around and waved to get his subordinates’ attention, as he called to them.

Olivia would tear this ship apart, board by board if she had to. She afforded a quick glance over in Alasdair’s direction as his hands were drawn behind his back, twisted into the handcuffs. The other guys he had in his employ were lined up next to him. Alasdair carried a look of utter defeat that never left the deck, save only to side-glance at the Coast Guard agents arresting him.

Well, that was taken care of. Time to find Susanna.

Olivia launched across the deck toward the unit that she had been using as her shield from earlier. Her heart was in her throat at the thought of being so close to Susanna, only to have her take a bullet from the earlier gunfight. “Susanna?” She threw the container open, relieved to find nothing but floor-to-roof carefully packaged medical supplies. The bandages had stopped the bullets in their tracks, thus saving her and Brock’s lives.

“She’s not in this one.” Olivia breathed a sigh of relief. Brock fell into line beside her as she chose another container, the bright orange one she’d seen earlier. This one had a lock and chain on it. Hope rose within her heart and she yelled, again.

“Susanna!”

No answer. Her name bounced back off of the surface of the container into her own ears. She was not, simply not giving up. The silence didn’t mean she wasn’t in there.

“We need some bolt cutters over here!” Brock called out to anyone who would listen. In a few moments, someone appeared next to him with the requested item. Olivia could hardly stand still as the agent opened the cutters, set the master lock between them and pushed the ends of the bolt cutters together. With a snap, the lock fell away. Brock reached forward, slipping the chain through the handles of the container. Olivia took one door while Brock pulled on the other side and the doors swung open.

For what felt like an eternity, the doors cracked open, revealing two teenage girls hidden inside. When the door cracked, they both looked up at Olivia and Brock with faces drenched with sheer terror, dread, and a mixture of emotions that should never be seen on the faces of ones so young. Olivia could have cried with relief. One of the teens was Susanna.

The relief on her face mixed with confusion and maybe a hint of betrayal. “Olivia? Brock?”

Olivia stepped into the container, Brock close behind her. “Susanna, we’re with the FBI.” She dispelled all doubts that they were involved with Alasdair. “We’re here to rescue you.”

Susanna sniffed. Her hands crawled up the wall as she stood on wobbly legs to her feet. Her red-rimmed eyes and tiny pupils indicated that she was on something, as did the bleeding pinprick in her right arm. “You’re here to rescue us?” Her words slurred together but they made sense.

Brock nodded, calming his voice down as he spoke. “It’s okay, Susanna. You’re safe now.”

With the last bit of her remaining effort, Susanna launched herself into Olivia’s arms. “Oh, gosh.” She cried as sobs made their way up her throat and shook her entire body. Brock closed in, laying an arm over her shoulders as Olivia gently stroked her. She held the sobbing teenager and murmured to her.

“It’s okay. We’ve got you, now. You’re safe.”

Behind Susanna, the other girl worked her way to her feet with less motivation than Susanna had. Her skin stretched over her collar and cheekbones and her eyes looked sunken in, but bagged with fatigue .

Brock released Susanna’s shoulders and looked toward the girl. “Ellie Cline?” he asked, hopefully.

She nodded.

They’d done it. They’d found two of the missing teens and cut the whole operation of selling them as human slaves in half. Olivia whispered this same assurance into Susanna’s ear as she continued to cry.

“I thought it was all over for me. I thought… I can’t believe I was so stupid.”

“You weren’t stupid.” Olivia paused only to call over her shoulder. “We need a medic in here, ASAP!” She returned her attention to Susanna. “It’s over, now, it’s all over. He can never get to you again.”