by C. G. Cooper
I cut him off with a glare. He got the point.
“When do you pick up the shipment?” I asked.
“Tonight,” he said quickly.
“Good,” I said. “I can’t wait to get you out of my sight.”
Chapter 8
Anna and I shared dinner in the guest house again. Pastor Walker was gone, and all I could think about was what he was doing. He’d gotten someone, probably an unsuspecting parishioner, to drop him off at the pickup point. I pressed Walker on where the location was, but he wouldn’t budge. There’d been the opportunity to follow him, an idea that easily found a hold in my subconscious, and then I thought of Anna. Something told me to stay close to her, so I did.
I picked at my food as Anna chatted about her favorite places in Italy.
“I mean, I’ve never been there, but I’m pretty sure Rome and Venice would be my favorites. A lady I met in town told me not to go to Venice in the summer, you know, because of the smell from the canals, but she said it was really nice in the fall.”
She went on, seemingly unconcerned by the lack of words coming from my side of the table. Apparently I did a decent job of bobbing my head every once in a while, and keeping the concern from my eyes.
But even as I listened, my mind flew at the speed of a computer processor. Whether I liked it or not, I was now part of the pastor’s “situation.” What I decided to do next would determine the swamp’s depth when I stepped in. The way I figured, I had three options.
First, I could still leave. It was only an option because other people in my spot might consider it an option. I’d discarded it the moment I said I would help them.
My second option was to call the cops and see what happened. But I was a stranger in town. They might just take the pastor’s word over mine and possibly throw Anna in a foster home. No, I couldn’t do that. It was too risky. Calling in the authorities always carried too many potential pitfalls.
Third, I could wait. I’d spent a lot of time waiting over the years. Marine snipers are excellent at waiting. It’s what we are trained for. My professional ancestors like Gunnery Sergeant Carlos Hathcock had waited days just for a glimpse of a high value target in Vietnam. I’d never had to wait that long, but there were plenty of ways to make a day-long hide miserable. Rain, heat, bugs, rats, a case of Montezuma’s revenge… You never knew what would hit you until it actually happened. That’s how I felt now. There were so many unknown variables that my brain kept jumping from one to another.
What if some of the thugs came back with the pastor?
What if the pastor got nabbed on the way back?
What if…what if…what if…?
It was just past seven and Pastor Walker said he’d be back around midnight. As the minutes ticked by, Anna happily recited her already-mapped trip through Europe, and I kept smiling and eating. Underneath the facade, my inner self was preparing. No matter the circumstance, I would be ready.
+++
I snuck out of the guest house just after 11pm. Anna’s bedroom light was already out, so that was one thing I wouldn’t have to worry about.
Pastor Walker told me he always came in from a side entrance that meandered into the woods and dumped out near the shelter. I picked my way there, grabbing an ancient rusty sledge hammer as I passed the storage shed. It wasn’t much, but it was something.
I tucked myself into a small tangle of bushes that afforded me a good view of every avenue of approach except for the one I’d taken before, which came up the back side of the building. That was the roughest path, so I’d demoted that one to the least likely on the list should more company show.
Midnight slipped by and still there was no sign of the pastor. An owl hooted in the distance, answered a few seconds later by a companion. Otherwise the night was quiet except for the swaying branches that knocked together overhead. I would’ve preferred a little more ambient noise, a little extra cover for my movement, but at least I’d probably be able to hear if someone drove up to the house.
Fifteen minutes later, I was still waiting. In the recesses of my paranoid self, I wondered if the pastor had lied. Maybe it was all a diversion, a way to get me away from the house and alone. If they surrounded me, that could be a problem.
But even as I began to think about what I would do if I did get cornered, I caught the sound of crunching gravel in the distance. A few seconds later, slivers of light from high beams shone through the night and soon grew brighter.
The vehicle was moving slowly, the pastor probably trying to avoid collisions on either side. I’d checked out that particular path on the way in and there wasn’t much room to maneuver, especially if he was driving the usual delivery van.
A van came into view soon after, the front seat invisible behind the blinding beams of light shining my way. I waited, watching as the gray panel van stopped and the engine clunked off. When the driver’s side door opened, the overhead cabin lamp illuminated Pastor Walker’s face.
He got out and moved around to the back of the vehicle, keys clinking as he moved. I heard a key going into the lock, and then the two back doors opened. The doors blocked my view, but a moment later I saw bare legs ease down from the van. I counted, One, two, three, four, five.
The doors shut and I got my first glimpse of the five girls in the scattered moonlight. None of them ran and none of them struggled. They stood in the same spot until Pastor Walker ushered them toward the shelter.
I didn’t want to take a closer look. I was too afraid of what I might do to the good pastor if I laid eyes on the girls up close. They couldn’t have been older than eighteen, and all had similar straight hair and slight builds that seemed more Eastern European than American. Ukrainian, I thought, remembering an article I’d read out of a discarded newspaper that documented the increased human slave trade coming out of the former Soviet puppet. With the Russians once again dipping their fingers into Ukraine’s well, who knew what kinds of atrocities were going on unnoticed.
The minutes ticked by again, the image of the spinning coin dancing in my head and I waited. Somehow, every time it landed on some unseen surface, Anna’s smiling image always came up instead of her father’s “church face.”
Finally, the lights in the shelter clicked off, and Pastor Walker came out, locking the door behind him. I eased myself up as Walker finished his duties and moved to the van. He jumped when I melted into view.
“Jesus, you scared me,” he said, clutching his chest like I’d shot him with an arrow.
“How did it go?” I asked, allowing the bitterness to slither into my voice.
“Fine,” he said, fumbling to lock the van door.
“And the girls?”
“They’re sleeping,” he said, avoiding my glare.
“Drugged?”
He nodded.
“Did you give them something too?” I asked.
“It’s always the same. I don’t know what it is, but it doesn’t take long.”
“Pills or injections?”
“Pills.”
“How long will they be out?”
“Until morning,” he said without hesitating. I wondered how many times he’d gone through this routine.
“Okay, we’ll come back at sunup,” I said, turning to leave.
“Have you decided what we should do?” he asked.
I kept walking, but whispered more to myself than to him, “Not yet.”
Chapter 9
I jolted upright at the sound of Snake Eyes! Snake Eyes! still ringing in my head. My eardrums hummed like I’d just been in the middle of a firefight. Heart racing, I ran a forearm over my brow and it came back dripping sweat. That’s when I realized the rest of my body was soaked too. There was no way I was getting back to sleep, and it wasn’t even five in the morning yet.
Easing myself out of bed, I went to the bathroom and turned on the shower. My glance at the mirror was a mistake. My eyes were bloodshot, my beard scruffy and my hair was a tangled mess. It happened every so often, noticing
what I’d become. Sometimes I thought about what others saw, but mostly I didn’t care. It wasn’t my problem.
Anna had not once looked at me disapprovingly. If there was a judging bone in her body, I hadn’t seen it yet. As I stepped into the steaming shower, I thought about what it must be like to live life as if in a fantasy. I was running away from dreams while Anna was running toward them. What would she think if she could really see inside my head?
I let the stinging water pelt me with angry volleys, relishing the pain that came from the overpowered water pressure. My skin was tingling and red as I toweled off ten minutes later, my mind clicking on as I thought about what would soon transpire. Anna didn’t know about the late night pickup, and I sure as hell didn’t want her to find out. As stupid as her dad was, I knew he didn’t either. The only thing he had going for him was that he loved his daughter and wanted to protect her from his choices.
I slipped into the clothes that were laid neatly on the rocking chair across from the bed. Anna could’ve run her own bed-and-breakfast if she wanted, her customer service skills far exceeding what I was used to. My shirt smelled like flowery dryer sheets as I put it on, and my well-worn pants were pressed for the first time in ages. The last time I’d worn anything ironed had been in the Corps, before they’d changed us over to those digi-cammies. I still missed the highly starched utilities and hyper-shined boots that I’d first seen adorning Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Highway in Heartbreak Ridge. To me, that was the way a Marine was supposed to look. I remembered some Drill Instructor calling that “A.J. Squared Away.”
“Poster Boy Marine.” That’s what they’d called me. Despite my fresh laundered and pressed clothes, I was a long way from that now.
Pastor Walker was waiting when I stepped outside. He asked if I wanted a cup of coffee. I shook my head and instead took the same path we’d returned on hours earlier. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and luckily the pastor got that. He walked a few feet behind me, one of those collapsible coolers strung over his shoulder. I assumed it was food for the girls.
How thoughtful, I mused bitterly.
The van was right where he’d left it, and there was no light coming from the shelter. It was still gray out with the occasional shaft of sunlight poking in through the vegetation. Everything was quiet again except for the crunch of our footsteps over composting leaves.
The first sign of trouble was the blanket on the ground. It was hard to see until I got closer, but once I did, my eyes traveled to the door and then to where the lock was supposed to be. It wasn’t there.
“Shit,” I said, pulling the door open and flicking on the lights. The place was empty except for five mussed cots. I took another step in and looked around. There was no sign of forced entry. The hair on the back of my neck was already standing, but it froze when I turned to talk to the pastor.
He was holding a piece of pink paper that I must’ve missed when I yanked the door open. I now saw the scrap of duct tape that had held the note on the back of the door. My heart thudded as I recognized the handwriting on the back with the words “Daddy” written on it.
Anna.
Pastor Walker looked like he’d seen a ghost as his eyes scanned the page. I ripped the paper from his hands and read it.
Daddy, What you’re doing is wrong. I’ve prayed about this a lot, and I’m going to help you now. These girls deserve to be saved, and I’m going to do it. I’ll call you when we’re safe. In the meantime, pray that God will forgive you. I will do the same.
Love,
Anna
P.S. Leave Daniel out of this. He’s already been through enough. Tell him I’m sorry.
+++
Anna tried to hurry the five girls along as best as she could. She knew they probably had a couple hours head start on her dad, and only hoped they could make it before they were either seen by the police, or caught by her father.
She’d spent the previous night thinking about things, and it was only by luck that she’d been gazing out the window when her father and Daniel returned. She had waited for the sounds from her father’s room to die down, and then she’d snuck out of the house.
The shelter had been right where she remembered, only now there was a van out front. She knew there were people inside, but there was no way to get to them. At first Anna thought about using a rock or a sledge hammer from back at the house to bust the lock off, but she figured that doing so would either wake the prisoners inside or alert Daniel and her father. Probably both.
So she’d done the only thing she could think of, and went looking for keys.
She started in her father’s office. As usual, it was a mess, and there were plenty of places to hide the keys, but she knew about the safe she wasn’t supposed to know about. She also knew the combination. It helped to be observant with a father who was typically so scatterbrained he couldn’t remember passwords or where he’d left his wallet.
Anna held her breath as she turned the soundless knob from left to right, finally clicking the safe open. And there they’d been, sitting on top of an assortment of official church files. She grabbed the ring of keys.
Shaking with excitement, she’d run back to the shelter and unlocked it. She left it on the door, and rushed the keys back to their original hiding spot. Before returning to the woods, Anna stuffed her backpack full of food and water bottles. Then, on her third trip into the treeline, she had a thought. She needed help and almost turned to wake Daniel.
No, she thought. He doesn’t need more trouble. This was her family’s problem and she didn’t want the Marine to get dragged in further.
So she’d pulled her phone out of her pocket and made a call. The person on the other end hadn’t been happy to hear from her at first, but after explaining the situation, she’d agreed to help. And that’s where Anna and the five girls were headed now, to a lonely stretch of road a couple miles from the farm. It was hard going since they had to stay off the roads, and it didn’t help that the girls were kind of out of it, like they were on heavy painkillers or something, but Anna pressed on. She made them hold hands, and that seemed to help.
The sun was just coming up when she saw the road. Since none of the girls with vacant eyes seemed to understand English, she motioned for them to stay put. Anna ran up ahead and confirmed that they were at the right intersection. She smiled and returned to the freed prisoners.
Handing out water and snacks to the skinny girls, Anna prayed she’d made the right choice. Right or wrong, she knew something had to be done. What had finally made her act alone was putting herself in those girls’ shoes, imagining the harrowing ordeal they had been through. She’d done the research online and knew that the young girls with doe eyes would either end up dead or as someone’s sex slave.
Anna had seen enough deprivation in her short life that she understood better than her peers how ugly the world could be. While other teens were busy going to the mall or deciding what to wear on Friday night, Anna saw the world for what it was: a place with enormous potential, with its share of evil and heartbreak. She studied it with an eye for improvement, like a painter who was never satisfied with his work. This was her way of fighting back, of unleashing a tiny golden ray back into the darkness, and staking her claim for what was right.
Chapter 10
I scanned the area with a flashlight and found the path Anna and the girls had taken. It was impossible to be accurate about how old the tracks were, but I was betting on the worst case scenario.
“She may have a two to three hour head start,” I said, getting a general feel for the direction they’d headed. “Do you have a map?”
“There’s one in the van,” Walker said. He fetched it without having to be told. We were both on the same team now, and his grim visage told me he was at least as determined as I was to get Anna back.
I unfolded the street map and told Walker to pull out his phone and check the GPS. After a quick perusal, and judging by the meager path, I guessed they’d gone either northwest or straight
west. There were intersections at each point, and by car it would be easier. If we left soon, we had a slim chance of getting there in time.
“How well could the girls travel?” I asked.
Walker shrugged. “Whatever’s in the pills keeps them doped up, but doesn’t seem to impede their basic senses. It’s more like their bodies work but their higher brain functions are impaired.”
That was good for Anna and bad for us. It meant she could make good time if she knew the way and kept the girls moving.
“I’ll take the van and you get your truck,” I said, grabbing the keys from Walker and sliding into the cab. But when I turned the ignition nothing happened. I tried again. Nothing.
Anna, I thought, shaking my head in admiration despite the dire consequences of her well-intended actions. She’d thought of everything.
When I popped the hood my fears were confirmed. She’d cut through hoses and belts, probably with a knife from her beloved kitchen. I smiled. The warrior in me was used to battling armed enemies. Anna was proving that a girl with a brain might easily outfox a Marine sniper.
“Let’s get to the truck,” I said, slamming the van door. “Hopefully she didn’t sabotage that one too.”
+++
The text was short and made Anna smile.
Be there soon.
She rubbed her hands together to ward off the morning chill. The cold plus the cuts and scrapes from their journey were a small price to pay. Soon she and the girls would be safe; she’d been promised as much. Anna shivered, but gritted her teeth as she looked at the poor girls she’d rescued. They were worth the risk.
+++
Luckily, the truck’s ignition did work. It took Pastor Walker a minute to get it going, but at least it was running.
“Let’s take this road first,” I said, pointing to Flag Pond Road, which was just around the corner.