The List- Alyssa's Revenge

by Casi McLean

  She shrugged. “You’re Command One in the director’s absence, sir.”

  He nodded. “Keep your eyes on Harper’s monitor and let me know if she so much as sneezes. When I get to the edge of the property, make sure––”

  “Don’t worry, sir, I’ve got this. Go.”

  He bolted from the van command center. Pushing his physical limitations, further than he ever had before, he maneuvered through the woods then approached the property and tapped his earpiece. With Kara’s guidance, he slipped past the guards and into the kitchen, mirroring Parker’s footsteps. Instead of using the main elevator that led to the underground complex, Kara routed Parker down a back stairwell hidden behind the rear pantry shelf. Once in the basement, few hiding places remained.

  The stairs let out in a utility closet, filled with towels and cleaning accessories on one side, but a bar ran down the opposite wall, holding a host of costumes in various sizes. Wyatt, only a few steps behind Parker, paused on the bottom step and listened to Harper as she described her location.

  “Cracking open the utility closet door.” Parker whispered. I see a door at the end of the hall where Sabastian’s thugs took Eagle One. Command Two, request a scan of the other rooms.”

  “On it,” Kara replied. “The room closest to the Director shows two distinct heat signals on the move…make that four. A door between the two rooms just slid open and two images passed through. The room closest to you shows three, but they are stationary…maybe sitting at a desk or table.”

  Parker edged against the wall and peered into the hallway as Wyatt approached,

  “Sebastian has to be watching those girls from somewhere and for my money, he’s not alone.”

  Evaluating the scene, Parker added his two cents. “I’d say he’s in the room to our right.”

  Kara broke in. “Heads up. I’m getting a high flux of energy from that room. They may be connecting to the auction…or setting up one hell of a display.”

  Wyatt smoothed the trimmed hairs on his chin. “Harper insisted we stand down until she commands otherwise. Our first priority is to let this game play out, unless one of the victims is in imminent danger. We have to stay a step ahead of Sebastian. Barreling in could get those girls killed. A planned sequence of attack is our best bet. Thanks to Harper’s hair-cam, I just might have an idea.”

  §

  Harper and Sarah, along with six other girls, stood in line, waiting like pigs lead to slaughter to be auctioned off to only God knew who or where. Whispering to the team, she described what she knew they could already see. Eight females stripped and bound to poles awaiting a life sentence of slavery and abuse. No. Harper wasn’t sure exactly how the situation would play out––yet––but she knew she and her team would find a way to save every one of them.

  A woman of Asian descent, standing about 5’4” with short-cropped, black hair and dressed in dark cotton pants and a light blue shirt, exited through a sliding door. She rolled victim one into an adjoining room. A shiver ran up Harper’s back to her neck. Had the auction already begun? She tugged at the rawhide straps binding her hands and feet, but the leather only tightened with her struggle. She gazed around the room, searching for something…anything…that could spark an idea.

  The look of sheer terror plastered on the young girl’s face as the door closed behind her fanned the flames burning through Harper. Though Kara manipulated the security cameras, this room would constantly change during the auction. It was only a matter of time before the men monitoring the rooms would realize the camera hack.

  Aside from her hair-cam, with hands and feet bound, Harper could do nothing. But if the team moved in before the auction began, they’d lose any chance of tracing bidders let alone the kingpin.

  Again, the sliding door opened. Returning victim one to their side of the partitioned-off area, they pushed Harper aside then shoved the second girl into the next room. But something had changed. Girl number one now wore a very short plaid skirt, a sheer white blouse, long white stockings pulled just over her knees, and shiny, black patent-leather shoes. Her long blonde hair now pulled into a ponytail above each ear, had her looking eight or nine, significantly younger than Harper had originally pegged her to be. Her skin glistened and her face showed soft, pink cheeks and glossy lips.

  A moment later, a women returned, took hold of the first girl’s platform and shoved her to the rear behind Harper. Then, inspecting the group, she chose Sarah and rolled her toward the obscure room.

  “Harper, don’t let them take me.” Tears trickled down her cheeks.

  The Asian woman pressed a finger over her lips and shook her head. She wiped Sarah’s tears with the back of her hand then patted her cheek before continuing her task.

  “You’re okay. They’re only going to give you some clothes.” Harper tried to comfort Sarah, but her plea stabbed into Harper’s heart as she helplessly watched her disappear into the other room. “Damn those bastards.”

  “They didn’t hurt me.”

  The soft voice came from behind and Harper spun. “Can you tell me what the other side of that divider looks like?”

  The young girl nodded. “The room reminded me of where my mom took Molly, my dog, to get her bath. Two big sinks with sponges and soap, some cages, a rack of clothes, and a table with make-up and hairs stuff.”

  “I’m glad they didn’t hurt you. What did the women do besides dress you?”

  “They washed me and rubbed some gel on me that made my skin sparkle. Then they helped me get dressed. Why are we tied up?”

  Harper lowered her head for a beat. “We’ll see.” She didn’t want to scare the girl more than she already was. “I’m Harper. What’s your name?”

  “Bailey.”

  “How old are you?” God, playing twenty questions was not what this girl needed, but time was running out. Connecting with these kids took priority.

  “Thirteen. Why are we here?”

  “A better question is how can we escape…and we will.” Again, Harper glanced around the room. “How did you get here in the first place?”

  “I met a really nice cute guy…in a chatroom. I wanted to meet him at the Bethesda Square Mall, but my parents wouldn’t take me. They told me meeting people over the Internet was dangerous, but he was so nice to me. One night, I sneaked out and he picked me up at the corner of my neighborhood. I thought he really liked me, but he took me to a bad man who locked me in a closet for a long time.” Tears pooled until they burst over the rims of her eyes and streamed down her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. We’re going to get out of here, Bailey. I have friends outside to help us. If you get a chance, tell the other girls to watch me and follow my lead. Okay?”

  She nodded and wiped her tears.

  Again, the door slid open. Sarah and another girl were rolled into the room. One of the Asian women pointed at Harper. The other nodded then hurried across the room. Tugging on Harper’s cart, the woman shoved her toward the washroom.

  Once inside, Harper scanned the room, giving Kara a wide camera view. After washing, rubbing her body with glitter gel, then dressing her in a sparkling, sheer, faux diamond-studded body suit with streams of dangling rhinestones flowing from Harper’s waist to her knees, the women turned their attention to her face and hair. Cold heat spiraled down Harper’s back and into her stomach when she realized there was no way the women would miss her earbud or the camera in her hair.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Listening to the situation unfolding just beyond the door, Wyatt tightened his jaw, using every ounce of restraint he could muster to keep at bay the anger burning in his gut. They’d caught a huge break when the Asian woman saw Harper’s hair-cam. God only knew why she winked at Harper then tucked the camera farther into her braid. Hell, maybe the poor woman had been kidnapped or threatened. For whatever reason, she’d silently agreed to help free the captives, aware, if discovered, her own life lay in the balance.

  Wyatt held no doubt his
plan would work, but once initiated, he had no idea how much time they’d have to rescue the kids before the targets discovered a discrepancy in the loop, nor could he anticipate how the thugs would react. They would undoubtedly draw firearms to which both Wyatt and Parker could retaliate. But if the bastards reacted too quickly, collateral damage would be unavoidable, and Wyatt wouldn’t risk hurting, let alone losing, even one of those girls.

  From what Harper described, the children now stood in line from oldest to youngest––if not in age, then certainly in appearance––which placed Harper first to be auctioned.

  Wyatt gulped, bitterness stinging his throat at how the slime balls had left the youngest for last to build anticipation for the disgusting pedophiles.

  Assuming no breach to the property occurred––let alone infiltration of the basement compound––the attendants and thugs so far exhibited no hesitancy in briefly leaving the bound hostages unsupervised.

  The longest window of opportunity would be the moment the criminals left their victims to set the stage for the first auction. After looping the cameras, Kara monitored the heat signals, and Harper sent an alert from girl-to-girl that two men would rescue them any minute and to follow their lead in silence. Wyatt and Parker needed to slip into the room, cut each girl’s leather straps then silently herd them from the prep room down the hall and out the rear extraction point––quietly, quickly, and within a minute or two at best.

  “Piece of cake,” Wyatt whispered more to himself than the others. The coiled knot already tightening in his stomach slithered to the base of his spine then slowly snaked to the back of his neck and poised, ready to strike.

  When the attendants inspected the girls one-by-one before leaving the prep rooms and stepped into the main auction area, Kara initiated the rescue. “Go, go, go.”

  Wyatt led Parker down the hallway then cracked open the door and peered inside. His breath trapped in his throat when he saw Harper, dressed in an outfit any Vegas Dancer would envy. He slid inside then motioned Parker to cut Harper’s bonds then work backward as planned.

  Parker pulled to the door behind him then edged toward the front of the line.

  “Stand down.” Kara’s voice pierced Wyatt’s earbud. “One heat signal approaching your location. “Get the hell out of there.”

  Wyatt froze. Crap. “No time.” He scanned for cover then leapt toward a garment rack and hid between hanging costumes.

  Parker followed suit, barely slipping behind a section of clothes before a rotund man waddled into the room. He yanked Harper’s pole then pushed her through the door toward the auction chamber.

  “Son-of-a-bitch.” Wyatt’s head pounded. He couldn’t let Harper be auctioned off. “Change of––”

  “No.” Harper’s whisper flushed through Wyatt’s earpiece with authority. “Continue the mission. That’s an order.”

  The roller wheels screeched across the linoleum floors, masking Harper’s command from her captor’s ears.

  “Shit.” Wyatt’s blood boiled but he did as Harper directed, cutting loose each girl until he and Parker freed them from the ties binding their feet and arms, then he took the rear to make sure every captive escaped.

  Wyatt and Parker led the youths to the van then started the return trek to rescue Harper when all hell broke loose. Though no blast of sirens filled the air for obvious reasons, no one needed an alert to recognize the traffickers had discovered the missing girls. The property buzzed with armed men.

  “Harper…you copy?” Wyatt prayed she’d answer. Under no circumstances would he leave her behind. “Brewer, divert to exit B, copy?”

  “Yes sir. Diverting to exit B.”

  With that command, Brewer drove away, taking the girls to a predesignated safe house, before returning to extract Wyatt, Parker, and Harper.

  Quint Brannon––D.C. Medical Examiner and long-time friend of Ash––and Brad, already in place at the refuge, would watch over the kids as long as necessary until they could be processed, and their parents notified.

  “Damnit, Harper, answer me. Do you copy?” Wyatt continued the plea. Had Sebastian absconded? Had he taken Harper hostage? He assessed the situation, as best he could, without the van’s equipment. Breaching the residence again was out of the question. Few options existed without knowing where or in what condition Harper was held. For the moment, all he and Parker could do was wait. Damn. Waiting twisted the knot in his stomach and prickles down his arms.

  “Oh God, Wyatt, do you need us as back up?” Emily’s frantic voice broke through.

  Now lingering within a natural hollow, a football field from the designated extraction point, Wyatt leaned against a fat tree trunk then wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Do you have Damien’s location secured?”

  Ash replied to the question before Emily took a breath. “We followed him to his stable, but he’s rounding up the kids now. If we leave, we’ll lose the weasel, and I doubt we’ll find a better opportunity to nail his ass.”

  “Ten-four. You and Em stay put. And keep your distance. We can’t let Damien know he’s been made. If that sleaze ball smells a sting, God only knows what he’ll do to those kids.”

  “Stay safe, Wyatt.” Emily broke in. “Remember––“

  “Anticipate the damn overthrow. I got it, kiddo. You and Ash keep your heads down.”

  “Will do…and Wyatt…I love you.”

  “I love you, too, kiddo.” Smoothing the hair on his chin, Wyatt assessed his options. “Steel, you copy?”

  “Yes, sir, Assistant Director. Can I help?”

  “Yes.” Again, Wyatt’s heart raced. With Harper unavailable, he steered the ship. He had to consider the whole operation over his own next move. “First, tell Hanna we’ve got Sarah and she’s safe. Then ask her to keep watching Mikey…he doesn’t leave her sight for any reason, and she stays inside the compound. Got that?”

  “Affirmative, sir. Can I help you and Teale?”

  “I hope so. Scan the mansion and give me a head count? Let me know what we’re up against. We don’t even know if Harper is still there. Sebastian undoubtedly has an escape protocol. He might take Harper hostage as insurance.”

  “Ten-four. On it now.”

  Wyatt stared at the ground. “If you can tell me where she is…maybe see if a lone heat signal is locked in a room…or a person being tugged around by someone. She’s not answering her alert.” She would have responded if she could. If Sebastian or his goons discovered her camera or earpiece, God only knew how he’d react. “Anything you can do to let me know what’s happening…look for an escape plan, too.” Rage compounded by his inability to act, made Wyatt kick the dirt and rocks beneath his feet. Aware his anger should be aimed inward, not at Harper, he paced. Damnit. Where are you, Harper?

  “On it, sir.”

  Kneeling, Wyatt snatched a rock from the brushwood then stood and rolled it between his fingers. His gaze shifted to Parker. “Any ideas?”

  Raising his brows until soft lines wrinkled his forehead, Parker shrugged. “I wish I did.” He turned toward the mansion grounds and peered through the dense trees. “The guy’s got to be pissed off at losing his high-stake assets and out for revenge.”

  “No question about that. If I was Sebastian, my first-priority mantra would be self-preservation. I’d scramble to pack up my gear and get the hell out of Dodge before the Feds catch up to me. Hell, I’d be halfway to Russia by now.” Wyatt edged into the forest for a better view of the property. “Sebastian likely has no idea how the girls escaped or with whom, but his own ass comes first.”

  “Hmm, makes sense. So, he’d have some kind of backup or an escape plan.”

  “Sebastian’s lifestyle took a lot of strategy, connections, and guts. He’s no run-of-the-mill criminal. For my money, the guy flew out of there before his goons even realized what was going down. The SOB probably threw someone under the bus to take the fall.” At the sound of heavy breathing, Wyatt snapped his gaze toward Parker. “You out of breath, bro?”
r />   “You shud lesin to yur frend.”

  The thick Russian accent blaring into his ear caught Wyatt off guard. He frowned. “What the… Who the hell is this? And how did you break into a classified frequency?”

  “I did nut breek in to yur communications…” The voice paused. “Thes device I found in the ear of a very preeety yung lady.”

  Wyatt’s hands fisted as he clenched his muscles. “You son-of-a-bitch. Where is she? If you touched one hair on Harper’s head, I’ll hunt you down to the ends of the Earth and kill you with my bare hands.”

  “Tsk-tsk. Yur threts mean nothing. But ahh, yur little girl-frend es no longer here. She iz out of my hands, now.”

  A swirl of nausea choked him. “What the hell does that mean? What have you done to her?”

  “Ahh, thes one brought the best price of all my sales. A dream, thes girl.” He snickered then let out a deep guttural laugh. “By now, comrade. Thez Harper, she iz on a private plane on the way to her master’s country.”

  “If you or your comrades harm her in any way, your dream will become your worst nightmare.” Wyatt’s veins bulged. He would not lose Harper again. Not now…not ever.

  Chapter Twenty

  Hidden in a hollow a hundred yards from the designated extraction point, Wyatt waited for the van to arrive. He tightened his grip on the rock still clasped in his hand and squeezed until pain bit into his palm. “Damnit. I told Harper playing the part of a target would be a disaster.” He twiddled the rock between his fingers several times then drew back and lobbed the stone as far as he could. “I should have––”

  “With all due respect, sir, from what I’ve seen, Director Drake rarely takes no for an answer. But…”

  “But what, Sergeant? If you have a suggestion, speak.” Wyatt thought better of the way he spat out his demand the moment it rolled off his tongue.

  “Sir. I’m pretty sure the Director wasn’t short sighted or reckless.” Brewer cleared her throat then continued. “She planned how this operation would go down.”