by Matt Lincoln
“Okay,” Anthony replied. “That’s good. Micah’s a nice guy. I hope he’s okay.”
“We’ll do our best to find him,” I replied. “But to get back to what we were discussing earlier, is there anything else you can tell us about the people behind all of this? We managed to arrest the men who brought the victims into Aruba, but the man who came to meet up with them slipped away from us before we could apprehend him. We know that the victims are taken to an apartment where they’re forced to ingest drugs. Do you know where that apartment is?”
“Yeah,” he replied as he lifted his head and looked up at me. “I’m pretty sure I can remember the way there. I’ve made this trip enough times. For a while, they tried using airplanes. That was a lot faster, but they made less money. Plane tickets are more expensive. I had no idea how cheap cruise tickets could be, especially when you buy them in groups like they do.”
I let him continue his rambling for another minute until he stopped on his own. As eager as I was to get more information about where we could find the apartment, he finally seemed to be relaxing and talking more. If letting his thoughts out was cathartic for him after everything he’d been through, I was willing to hear him out.
“Do you think that you would be able to show us the way there?” I asked. It was a huge thing to ask of him, and I would have understood if he’d turned me down. After finally escaping from the group, it was probable that the last thing he wanted was to go anywhere near the place again.
“I don’t know,” he muttered as he picked his fork back up and pushed the food around on the tray, but not actually eating any of it. “I might not remember the way. I don’t want to mess up your investigation or anything.”
“Whatever information you can give us is fine,” I assured him. “And if you don’t feel comfortable--”
“It’s not that,” he cut me off. “It’s really not. I’m just worried I might make a mistake and lead you the wrong way.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I replied. “Like I said, we’d appreciate any help you can offer us. The reason we’re in Aruba right now is to track down the men who are doing this and stop them before they can get anyone else killed. The faster we--”
“Wait,” he interrupted me again as he dropped the fork onto his tray with a loud clang. “What do you mean, ‘killed’?”
I realized with a start that he must not know about what had happened on the last ship.
“There was an incident a few days ago,” I explained. I was a little reluctant to reveal this information to him, but as a victim who had very nearly been put into the same position, I felt that he deserved to know. “On another ship. Another group of victims died when the cocaine packets inside their stomachs burst.”
“What?” He croaked, his voice airy and weak. “Are you serious?”
“I’m afraid so,” I replied. “As I said earlier, the entire reason we’re here is to track down the Aruban gang involved so we can keep that from happening to anyone else.”
“We have to go now, then!” Anthony suddenly exclaimed as he swung his legs over the side of the bed, accidentally yanking the IV needle out of his arm in the process.
“Whoa, slow down a minute,” I cautioned him as blood began to spurt from his arm.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he stared down at his bleeding arm. “I didn’t mean to do that.”
“It’s fine,” I replied as I looked around for someone to help. A nurse happened to be passing by at just that moment. She glanced into the room, and before I could even call out, her eyes went wide with shock, and she rushed into the room.
“Why did you pull out your IV?” she asked as he grabbed something off of a cart in the room. She ripped the package open and pulled out a small wad of gauze that she then pressed against Anthony’s arm.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as he hung his head. “It was an accident. I didn’t mean to, sorry…”
“It’s alright,” she replied kindly as she grabbed a roll of latex off of the same cart. “Let me just get this wrapped up for you, and I can start an IV in your other arm, okay?”
“No!” Anthony replied firmly. “No, I can’t stay here.” He turned to look at me. “We need to go now. Other people might be in danger. What if they’re making someone swallow those packets right now? If they burst again, they could die, right? We need to go!”
“Okay, we’ll go,” I conceded, “but I really need you to calm down for a second, okay? We appreciate your help, but we need to make sure that you’re alright as well, too.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted as the nurse finished wrapping his arm up. “You don’t get it. We’re not the only group. There are always other people there when we arrive from other ships. They might have people there now. Did any other cruises arrive today?”
A cold, uncomfortable feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I remembered that another ship had, in fact, arrived that morning. That was why the dock had been so busy when we arrived to do our stake out while we waited for the Diamond.
“We need to move,” I said as I turned to look at Holm and Linden.
“I’ll call the captain and let him know,” Linden declared as he quickly took his phone out of his pocket.
As he did, I turned to look at Anthony. He seemed eager to help us, but suddenly asking him to lead us straight to the den of the traffickers might be too much for him to handle. Unfortunately, there wasn’t time to think about that now. If there were other victims currently being forced to ingest the same stuff that killed nearly thirty people just days ago, then time was of the essence.
We needed to get to them before we had another mass slaughter on our hands.
17
Ethan
My heart thumped almost painfully fast as we sped down the road. We were on our way to find the apartment, going off of Anthony’s instructions. He, Officer Linden, Holm, and I were all leading the way there, tailed by a fleet of police cars.
“I think it’s to the left here,” Anthony muttered with uncertainty as we pulled up to a tall building painted pale yellow. “Yes, it is left here! I recognize that graffiti on the wall. We’re almost there.”
“Okay,” I replied as I turned left and continued to drive. “As soon as we get there, just stay low, okay?”
Though it wasn’t unheard of to have a victim personally guide us to or through a crime scene, it was still dangerous. We didn’t have much of a choice since Anthony was the one who knew how to get there, but I wanted to make sure we did everything in our power to keep him out of danger.
“There!” he yelled as he pointed to the right, slightly obscuring my vision as he thrust part of his arm in front of my face. “That building with the metal balconies. That’s where the apartment is!”
“Are you sure?” I asked as I slowed the car to a crawl.
“Yes,” he replied, frantically nodding his head as he stared up at the building with mounting trepidation. It was evident from the look on his face that just looking at the apartment building brought fresh fear into his heart, and for a split second, I wondered if it had been a mistake to bring him out here with us. Of course, we never would have found it if he hadn’t guided us, at least not this quickly.
“You okay, Anthony?” I asked as I pulled into the parking lot outside the building.
“I’m fine,” he muttered, his voice shaky. “Just remembered a couple of things I’d rather not think about.”
“You did a great job,” I assured him as I watched the four cop cars behind us pull into the parking lot one by one. “Let us handle it from here, alright?”
“Okay,” he replied with a short, jerky nod as he sank down in the passenger seat as though hiding from the building.
“Which apartment is it?” Linden asked as he leaned forward from the backseat.
“Uh…” Anthony replied as he looked to the left and then right. “I’m not sure. I don’t remember, but I think it’s that one.” He lifted a hand and pointed toward one of the doors directly in f
ront of where I’d parked. “It’s one of the ones on the ground floor. Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s that one.”
“What should we do?” Linden turned to me. “If there are victims inside, then we need to go now, but we can’t rush into the wrong apartment.”
“I think we should--” I started to reply when I was cut off by a loud pop, closely followed by a metallic clang. The sound of a gunshot.
“Get down!” I yelled as I shoved Anthony down into the footwell of the passenger seat. Just a second after I did, an eruption of pops began to sound above us as whoever was firing unleashed a fury of bullets onto the car. I shut my eyes as the glass windshield cracked and shattered above my head, sending shards of glass raining down onto us.
“Dammit,” I hissed as I waited for the firing to stop. This was really bad. We were in the middle of a residential apartment complex, and these bastards were firing what had to be fully automatic weapons. We needed to get the situation under control fast.
The moment the gunfire came to a stop, I shoved the driver's side door open.
“I’m going in!” I yelled as I ducked out of the car, careful to stay low to the ground as I made my way quickly toward the apartment.
“Right behind you,” Linden replied as he climbed out the back. I could see Holm creeping around the other side of the car to my left. To my right, several of the officers were also getting out of their cars, crouching low to the ground in similar positions as we all rushed toward the apartment.
The windows in the front window had completely shattered. The jagged and uneven bits of glass that still lined the perimeter of the window were the only traces left. I could see figures moving around inside the apartment, but it was too dark to make out any discernible features.
Rather than go for the door, I went straight for the window, jumping to my feet and running toward it at full speed. One of the men inside turned to look at me as I leapt through the broken window. He lifted his gun toward me, but before he could pull the trigger, I shoved his arm to the side and punched him in the face. He dropped the weapon, but I couldn’t relax yet, because just moments later, another man rushed toward me, his firearm held aloft.
I ducked down just as he pulled the trigger. The thunder of a gunshot exploded over my head, and behind me, someone let out a grunt of pain. A quick glance over my shoulder made me realize that the man had accidentally shot one of his own comrades when he’d missed me.
He roared as he glared at me, as though it was my fault that he’d just shot his own buddy. He aimed at me again, but before he could fire, Holm and several of the officers rushed through the window and door. The man holding the gun gritted his teeth as he looked between the other officers and me before making his mind up and turning his gun onto the cops.
“Don’t move!” one of the officers yelled as he lifted his own gun, but the suspect didn’t listen and fired two shots directly at the cop. The officer cried out with pain as he stumbled backward onto the ground.
I was about to charge the gunman while he was distracted, but the perp I’d knocked down was starting to rise. As he scrambled to his feet and I moved to intercept him before he could draw the pistol at his hip. A different cop lifted her gun and shot the first shooter twice, once in the head. He crumpled into a lifeless heap on the ground.
Adrenaline was coursing through me as I tackled my own target before he got his gun free, and as we hit the floor, I pinned his arm down onto the ground. Holm was next to me a second later, helping me get the guy’s hands behind his back.
Holm looked up at me and opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could, another loud bang rang out through the small den of the apartment. I ducked to the ground as I looked up to see who had fired and spotted two men peeking out from around the edge of a hallway, taking potshots at the cops still in the main entryway.
I lifted my own sidearm and fired back at the men. My first shot missed and struck the wall next to the man’s head, the paint and plaster there splintering off and breaking into tiny flakes. My second shot landed, and the man fell to the ground as my bullet hit him in the chest.
“We need to find the victims,” I muttered as the other officers rushed toward the remaining man.
“If there are any,” Holm retorted as he looked down at the three men on the ground. One of them was dead, but the other two were just unconscious, though one of them was bleeding pretty heavily.
“You go,” he said to me. “I’ll stay here and keep an eye on these two. I’ll call for an ambulance, too. Go, find the victims before they get hurt.”
“On it,” I replied as I jumped to my feet. I could hear gunfire in the hallway, as well as the sounds of yelling. An intense gunfight had broken out between the cops, and however many traffickers were still left standing. Rushing into a hallway filled with flying bullets sounded like a foolhardy idea, but I couldn’t just stand here and wait for things to die down.
So, I rushed into the hallway and lifted my own gun, ready to join the fray. However, in the chaos of the pitched battle, it was impossible to get a good shot in without accidentally hitting one of the officers. The traffickers didn’t have any qualms about hitting anyone, though, and they continued to fire at us non-stop. Another officer went down just in front of me, and I quickly jumped to the side before the spray of automatic weapons fire caught me as well, bursting open a bathroom door in the process.
I heard a shriek as I fell to the ground and looked up to discover a group of women all huddled at the other end of the bathroom, holding onto each other and pressing themselves as far against the wall as they could. They all looked pallid and gaunt, and their expressions were the same as Gabby’s had been, though theirs were notably more panicked and frightened given the current situation.
“It’s okay,” I tried to assure them as I slowly got to my feet. “It’s alright, I--”
Before I could continue, one of the girls screamed and pointed at something behind me. Panic seized me, but before I could turn around, something big and hard struck me over the head. Stars danced in my vision as my knees gave out beneath me, and I fell onto the hard tile of the bathroom floor.
I tried to regain my footing, but the world was spinning, and my ears were ringing too much for me to maintain my balance. A second later, someone shoved me backward onto the ground, and before I knew what was happening, a bulky man with a mean scowl on his face was on top of me, his hands wrapped around my neck.
I attempted to kick him off and twist away, but the guy was big and very heavy, like a solid wall of meat and bone. His fingers were pressing unforgivably against my windpipe, and my face began to grow hot at the lack of air. My dizziness was getting worse instead of better as I struggled to draw a breath past the vice grip that the man had around my neck.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the girls watching the fight with fear in their eyes. The only thing I could think was that I needed to get free. If I didn’t get this oaf off me, who knows what he might do to the innocent victims. I slammed my fists into his forearms, trying to knock them loose, but it was like hitting a concrete wall. To make matters worse, I was beginning to get light-headed from lack of oxygen. If Holm or one of the officers came to provide assistance, I honestly didn’t think I’d be able to stay conscious for very much longer.
Fortunately, assistance did come, though it wasn’t in the form of Holm or any of the other officers. One of the women, who couldn’t have been more than five feet tall and was so petite that the clothes she was wearing dangled off of her, rushed toward the man choking me and began to beat furiously against him with her fists.
There was no force behind her punches, and it didn’t look like they hurt the thug at all, but those strikes must have infuriated the thug. He took one of his hands from around my neck, which eased the pressure enough for me to draw some shallow breaths, then grabbed the girl by the arm and tossed her to the side like a ragdoll. I watched with alarm as she hit the ground with a sickeningly loud thud, her head stri
king the hard bathroom floor.
Fury flooded over me. The girl was half the man’s size, and yet he had no problem throwing her to the ground at full force. That righteous anger filled me with a renewed vigor, and with that surge of strength, I brought an elbow down on the suspect’s arm still around my neck hard enough to break free.
He lost his balance as I shoved him off of me and fell to the ground. As he did, I got shakily back up onto my feet. My throat burned, and I still felt a little wobbly, but I focused as hard as I could on the man in front of me. He bounced back onto his feet just seconds after me, staring at me with cold, murderous eyes.
After that split-second staredown, he let out a guttural roar and lunged toward me, one of his fists raised to punch me. I moved as fast as I could to the side in a maneuver designed to slip the punch. Normally, I would have easily dodged the strong-but-slow goon’s punches, but with the lack of oxygen and my head spinning, I barely dodged his next punch.
I need to end this now, I thought to myself as I planted my feet firmly on the ground. I wasn’t in good condition right now, and the longer this went on, the higher the chance that the suspect would gain the upper hand. Bearing that in mind, I lunged toward the man, throwing the full force of my weight behind the punch I delivered to his jaw.
It was a bit sloppy, but I was hopeful that the sheer brute strength behind the blow might have been enough to K.O. the man in one shot. Unfortunately, though the shot made his head snap back, he only staggered backward for a moment before he shook his head and glared up at me, looking somehow even more furious than before.
He punched at me again, and instead of dodging, this time, I blocked the blow with my arm. Pain resonated up and down my forearm, but it was a sacrifice worth making because it put me in a position to hopefully end this. As quick as lightning, I grabbed the arm he’d used to punch me with both of my hands and brought my knee up to his stomach, forcing him down by the arm to amplify the intensity of the hit.