Witness Betrayed

by Linda Ladd

  Once they were in place behind the complex, Lori stood lookout while Novak ran to the base of the fence and climbed to the top. He threw a quilt over the razor wire, pulled himself over, and jumped down to the ground inside. Frank came up and over right behind him. Nobody appeared to challenge them. He ran across to the back side of the building. He could see dim lights in some high windows, indicating somebody could be inside or it could be night-lights. The question was: How many men were in there? The back door was locked.

  Novak waited for Frank to reach him and then took a couple of bracing breaths, fully aware odds were against them this time. His gut told him they were about to run into a fight. It didn’t appear that any alarms had been set off. He was almost positive that nobody escaped their previous raids that night in time to call a warning in to the boss. Hopefully, Hennessey thought all was well in his world and was sleeping peacefully in his bed.

  Novak retrieved a short crowbar from his backpack and used it to knock the lock off the door. Inside, he found only darkness. He and Frank stepped inside, weapons ready. Down to one side, a ceiling spotlight faintly illuminated the corridor, maybe twenty feet distant. The door at the end stood open. No lights there, either. Novak used hand signals to point Frank down an adjacent hallway to check out the rest of the rooms in the office wing while he moved cautiously down to the door that led out into the open floor of the main building. Inside, the overhead lights were off, but there were a few lit on the perimeter, enough for him to see a man running straight at him with an AR rifle. When he saw Novak, he stopped in his tracks and fired a barrage at him. Novak ducked as the bullets started pinging off the wall behind him. He took cover behind the steel door and waited for the guy to reload. When the gunfire ended, he was closer to Novak’s position. Novak glanced down the hall. Frank was nowhere to be seen.

  Seconds later, he heard a distant burst of answering fire, followed by a back and forth series of shots. When that firefight died away, he darted a quick look and found Frank standing just outside a door at the other end of the office hallway. Two men were sprawled out in the middle of the warehouse floor. Novak breathed easier until he caught movement high above them on a catwalk. He opened fire, and when Frank followed suit, the third guard went down. Novak and Frank kept behind cover, waiting for the second wave, but no shouts echoed in the distance. No footsteps came running. No gunshots. All quiet.

  Novak stepped back out onto the warehouse floor. He signaled Frank to separate and approach from the opposite side. When he found a light switch panel on the wall, he started flipping on the overhead lights. One by one they flashed on and illuminated the interior. It was not a packaging operation like the others had been. It appeared to be empty, just a big empty room with nothing in it. Afraid to take that for granted, he eased up to the heavy gray plastic curtain hanging across what appeared to be a truck alcove. He lifted the side edge with his rifle barrel and shined a flashlight inside. He found another big empty room, but this one had three truck doors, all of which were closed. Then he spotted the large shipping container positioned on the side adjacent the doors. His hope took a giant leap. Maybe they’d finally hit pay dirt. Frank had come to the same conclusion and was already running toward it. Novak followed him more slowly, covering him and watching the doors and the catwalk. When he got there, Frank had already thrown the bolt and was pulling open the doors. That’s when the foul odor hit them.

  They both staggered back, gagging on a thick stench of urine and human feces and vomit and unwashed bodies and cold sweat of fear. He swept his flashlight around the interior and stopped on a group of young girls sitting together in one corner. Trembling, they were hiding their faces like all the other women they’d set free that night. They were all in terrible condition, starvation-thin and wearing dirty, ragged nightgowns. They darted quick looks over their shoulders at him and moaned when he focused the light on their faces. None of them looked older than fourteen or fifteen.

  “Lucy’s not in here, damn it, she’s not here!” Frank paced several steps away, cursing and shaking his head.

  Novak kept his eyes on the frightened girls. He gentled his voice as much he could. Judging by their looks alone, these girls had been through hell. “It’s okay, don’t be afraid,” he said to them. “We’re not going to hurt you. We’re here to help get you back home to your family. Come on out. I’ll help you. You’re free now. Your guards are dead.”

  They didn’t believe him. They just huddled there together, embracing one another and making these low pitiful moans. They were listening, though, and they were beginning to have hope. They didn’t trust him; they probably wouldn’t trust any male ever again. When he heard running footsteps out on the floor, he spun around, but it was Lori.

  She stopped in front of him and peered into the shipping crate. “Is Lucy in there? Did you find her?”

  “No, not Lucy, but these girls need help. Think you can get them to come out of there?”

  “I can try.”

  Novak turned to Frank. “C’mon, Frank, pull it together. We’ve got to get these kids out of here. Maybe they know where Lucy is.” That faint ray of hope knocked Frank out of his disappointed tirade. He returned to the open doors.

  There were eight girls in that nasty place. None of them wanted to get out of that crate or cooperate. Novak understood that. He told Frank to stand back and let Lori convince the terrified girls they meant them no harm.

  Lori now took charge. “I got this, Novak. Back away and try not to look so big and intimidating.”

  For once Novak was glad to have her call the shots. He gave her a quick boost up inside that awful prison. The stink inside was horrendous. Lori ignored the smell and moved back where she could squat down a few feet away from the scared girls. She started talking softly in a soothing voice. Novak couldn’t hear what she was saying, but he could see they were listening. After several minutes, a couple of the girls shifted out of their protective circle and whispered answers to her questions. Whatever she was saying was doing the trick. She helped them stand up one at a time and lead them to the door where they allowed Novak to lift them down out of that hellhole. But they all cringed when his hands were on them and stepped back away from him once their bare feet touched the cold concrete floor. They looked weak and sick and starved and dehydrated. They could barely walk on their own without collapsing. He needed to find them drinking water and quick. He sent Frank on that mission. Moments later, he yelled at Novak from the office wing. The girls looked worse outside in the bright light. All of them had dark bruises and cuts and scratches on their bodies, but they obeyed Lori and followed her to the office where they found a small kitchen with a big side-by-side refrigerator. Inside it was a box of stale Subway sandwiches alongside a good stock of bottled water and Cokes. He doled the food out to the girls, who were huddled together on the floor again, like stray puppies trying to keep warm. Shadowed, fear-filled eyes darted from Novak to Lori to Frank, but they gobbled down the food and guzzled the water. It was an awful thing to watch.

  After a few minutes and much too long for Novak’s nerves, they began to settle down. Most of them had stopped crying. Novak sat atop a desk a good distance away and tried not to look at them. He watched the door instead. Those kids were more comfortable with Lori. She was good with them. All Novak wanted at the moment was to get them the hell out of there. “Lori, we need to get going. More men could come in here any minute.”

  “I know. Just let them eat first. They’re starving.”

  Novak turned to the girls where they were sitting on the floor. Now they would look at him. “You’re going to be okay. We’re taking you somewhere safe, and then we’ll get your parents to come get you.”

  They stared at him. By the looks on their faces, none of them believed him. They had been worn down by physical abuse and deprivation and weren’t quite able to believe anything good could happen.

  “Look, I know how scared you are. Y
ou’ve been through hell, but you’ve got to answer some questions. You were held here against your will. Why? Who locked you in that container? Please, tell us what we need to know. There may be other girls in other places that need our help.”

  Nobody answered; most looked away. They weren’t going to tell him a damn thing.

  He tried again. “Please talk to us. We’re not the ones who locked you in here. We’re their worst enemy. We want to stop them from doing this, so please, help us do that.”

  Sitting silently, they watched him but avoided eye contact.

  “Did they make you go with men?”

  Not a peep.

  Lori took over. “He’s okay, girls. Tell him so we can get out of here before they come back.”

  That did it. She had a golden tongue. One of them spoke very softly. “They told us we had to be with men, but we fought and screamed, so they beat us. Then they brought us in here and locked us in that thing and told us we couldn’t come out until we did what they said.”

  Novak could feel his muscles tensing. He wanted to take Hennessey down himself, preferably up close and personal and with extreme prejudice. He would enjoy it. The man was a monster. All of them were monsters.

  Lori continued to comfort the girls, putting her arms around them, and that did appear to calm them down. Frank had been watching from the door, but he moved up closer. Novak decided he needed to contact Leslie and turn these poor girls over to her, but first things first. He needed answers. Frank beat him to the pertinent questions.

  “Did they keep you all together the whole time? Were there other girls around?”

  They didn’t answer him.

  Novak hesitated, and then he took the picture of Lucy out of his billfold, held it up in front of them. “This is important. That man over there.” He pointed at Frank. “This is his daughter, and they’ve still got her. Did you see her anywhere? Her name’s Lucy. They kidnapped her out of her own house in Galveston. She’s just thirteen, even younger than most of you.”

  One of them leaned up and peered at the photograph. She shook her head. Then another girl took a look and said, “I saw her once. She was inside a van with me when they brought us to this town. She was tied up, but the rest of us weren’t. They had tape over her mouth so she couldn’t talk to us.”

  A third girl spoke up. “Where are we? Are we still in Alabama?”

  “No, you’re in Houston, Texas, but we’re going to get you back home as soon as we can.”

  Frank couldn’t contain his excitement. It was the first time anybody had seen or known anything about Lucy that entire night. “Do you know where she is now? Any of you? Please, please tell me, if you know anything that’ll help me find her.”

  Most of them shook their heads, but only one girl answered him. “I know they took her away. But she’s okay cause they wouldn’t let the guards touch her or anything. They kept her separate from all of us.” Her voice broke on her next words. “But they let them hurt us. They said nobody could hurt her.” She sobbed, and several of the other girls joined in.

  Novak glanced at Frank. His face had relaxed some. He was relieved, but Novak wasn’t. Hennessey could use Lucy for payback. They had to find her before he made an example out of her, because he was pretty sure that was going to happen. Novak had miscalculated. He had counted on finding her in one of Hennessey’s drug houses. Now, wherever Lucy was, Hennessey would move her to a secure place or just kill her.

  Outright blackmail was the only option Novak had. Maybe he could ask Hennessey to hand Lucy over in return for the stolen cocaine and cash they’d taken from him. They might get her back unharmed if the crime boss wanted his profit more than he wanted to hurt Frank’s kid. Novak needed to contact Hennessey. Then he had to convince him that if Lucy got hurt, Novak would burn every single dollar of his drug money, one hundred-dollar bill at a time.

  He walked a short distance away and dialed Leslie Taylor’s number. When she picked up, he told her he had more potential witnesses who could testify against Timothy Hennessey and his men. He told her the kids needed immediate FBI protection and an escort home to their families, most of which were probably out of state. Leslie wasted no time agreeing and gave him directions to the nearest safe house.

  “You are definitely exceeding my expectations this time, Novak,” Leslie told him. “Maybe you should consider joining the Bureau.”

  “I got my fill of following orders in the military.”

  “Yeah, tell me about it. Well, I am impressed, that is, if you don’t end up dead or tortured to death before sunrise. Hennessey’s going to be gunning for you with everything he’s got, and he’s got a lot. You do realize that, right?”

  “He doesn’t have as much as he had this afternoon.”

  She laughed but immediately cut off her amusement. “You are alive with your head still attached. That’s saying something with the guys we’re dealing with. Just get those girls over to that address ASAP. What are you driving? I’ll alert the guy there to be waiting for you. Will they cooperate with us? Are you sure?”

  Novak described the white van. “I think so, given time to settle down and get over their trauma. They’ve been beaten and abused and starved, and they’re worn down. They’ll need kindness, and I mean a very soft touch. Can you do that?”

  “Of course.”

  “Are you staying there with them?

  “Maybe for a little while, but they’ll be fine. I’m staying at the safe house with Judith and her kids for the next few days. She and I have a lot to talk about and get down in writing. Any luck with Lucy?”

  “She wasn’t here, but we’ll find her.”

  A short pause ensued, then she asked, “Have they pimped her out yet?”

  Novak flinched at the cold bluntness of the question. “Doesn’t sound like it. One girl said Lucy was treated better and kept apart from them. That is helping Frank cope, at least right now.”

  “Thank God. So Caloroso’s under control?”

  “He’s doing all right.”

  “I feel for him. I know you’ll find Lucy, sooner or later. I take it you’re planning to blackmail Hennessey.”

  If nothing else, Leslie had always been astute. “You’re better off not knowing what I’m doing next.”

  “Better not get me fired or demoted again, Novak. I knew you were trouble when you walked up to my door.”

  “Hope not. I’m gonna owe you big-time for what you’re doing.”

  “Yes, you are, but I’ll collect those favors when we get Lucy back and indict Locke and Hennessey, and if and when my promotion goes through.”

  Novak clicked off, a bit concerned with what she expected in return. However, that was the least of his worries at the moment. After that, they wasted no more time. They herded the girls outside and into one of the white vans in the parking lot. Novak had taken keys off a dead guard, and once Frank and Lori had the girls in the van, he ran to the front gate and pried the lock off with his crowbar. Lori stopped the van and picked him up.

  Novak was well aware that the FBI had safe houses scattered all across Texas and every other state as well. This one happened to be situated in a suburb called Sugar Land, a neighborhood where median incomes were substantial, and so were the homes, yards, pools, trees, and garages. All was kept nice and neat and hunky dory and safe from crime, or so they thought. Lots of yuppies surrounded by chic designer decor and bottles of imported French wine. Most residents would be shocked to know what went on in one pale yellow house inside a small forest grove and a surrounding wall dripping with ivy.

  Vehicles were admitted through a motorized iron gate affixed with cameras, not particularly unusual in the neighborhood. It conveniently opened on its own when Novak stopped in front of it. He drove the van inside and took the driveway around to the back. Leslie Taylor and three other agents met them, two men and one other woman. A few girls still bel
ieved they were being moved out of that shipping container to be prostituted. A few started crying. Lori tried to reassure them, but they weren’t buying it.

  The minute they pulled to a stop, Leslie came forward and took charge, which was one of her good qualities. She was efficient, if nothing else. She was dressed in a black pantsuit and a light blue blouse with a buttoned down collar. She quickly assigned the girls to the waiting agents, after which they were hustled into the house through a back door. No one said a word, just hurried along, no sound anywhere except for shuffling footsteps on the concrete patio. Muted traffic sounds echoed in the distance, but there were no bird calls, no cricket cheeps, nothing but dead silence. It was a quiet place to live or to hide.

  Leslie looked up at Novak. “We need to talk.”

  “Yeah, I figured.”

  Novak retrieved the packet he’d taken from Judge Locke’s office and followed her back across the yard to what appeared to be a large guesthouse. Inside, it looked like a NASA control center for a 1960s moon launch. He glanced at Leslie.

  “Yes, we do use this place a lot,” she answered without his asking the question. “I trust you, or you wouldn’t have gotten through that gate. What’s in that packet? More evidence, I hope?”

  “Everything you need to take down Judge Locke. I’m still working on Hennessey. I think the judge will turn evidence against him once you get him behind bars and sweat him.”

  Leslie appeared dubious. “Yeah? Show me. Better yet, tell me how you got this stuff?”