Every move, every word, it all mattered now. Jack climbed out and slid his hands into his shorts pockets. “This looks better.”
The driver walked straight up to him, inches from Jack’s face. “Pay me.”
It was a test. No one would pay now, when there was no proof of a girl waiting on the other side of the front door. Jack laughed. He looked one way and then the other. “What is this, a sting?” He took a step toward the man. “Take me inside or take me back to the beach. I see what I buy. That’s the way it works.”
Without turning around, Jack could hear a car on the street behind this one. Two cars maybe. Agents getting ready for the raid. He shifted. “Look, forget it.”
Again the wary man relaxed. They were about the same height, but the other guy looked like an NFL line man, muscles on muscles and skeleton tattoos on every inch of his body. He wasn’t the gang leader, though. That coward was inside and he usually didn’t leave the place until well after midnight. Scurrying around in the dark like a cockroach. When no one was looking.
Jack followed the lineman to the front door. The smaller man from the passenger seat had already gone inside with his bag of drugs. Again, this could be an ambush. Jack was armed, but it wouldn’t do him any good until he had backup.
Four against one was a death trap.
Help me, God… I need You. Jack stepped inside behind the big guy and his eyes tried to adjust. The house was dimly lit by candles and incense burning in the foyer and on tables down a long hallway. Sickening, he thought. According to surveillance, ten young teenage girls rotated in and out of these rooms.
From down the hall, a door opened and the smaller guy poked his head out. Then he pulled from inside the room one of the teenage girls Jack and Eliza had seen on the beach. She looked drugged, her legs unsteady, her face and eyes caked with thick makeup. Her short black silk gown barely covered anything.
“Here,” the man yelled. “A little fun.”
He pulled the girl back into the room. Jack’s training had taught him how to slow his heart rate in situations like this. Steady breathing, focus on objects not people. But again this time was different.
By now two agents and the Bahamian police would be in the backyard, surrounding the dwelling. One of them would be on the roof of the detached garage, a rifle scope trained on the guy trying to get his money.
“You saw what you’re getting.” The man crossed his arms, legs spread. He was looking angrier by the second. “Two hundred dollars.”
Jack pulled his wallet from his pocket, his hands cool and steady. Get me out of here, God. Rescue me from this. He peeled ten twenties from the billfold and handed them to the man. At the same time windows broke in every direction.
“Police!” The cry rang from all four corners of the house.
“What the…？” Jack was supposed to run out, the way a would-be customer might do if a raid went down.
Instead, the big guy shoved Jack against the wall and before he could do anything about it, the man had a gun at his temple. “Everyone freeze.” He spit at Jack’s face. “Or your pretty informant’s a dead guy.”
So he did know. This was the worst possible situation. The agents creeping their way closer didn’t dare do anything to get Jack killed. He closed his eyes. This is my hour, God. Help me, please. Right now.
The smaller guy bolted out of one of the rooms down the hall, gun raised. But before he could pull the trigger, the lineman turned and fired a single bullet through the man’s forehead.
“That’s for ratting on me.” The big guy watched his buddy fall to the floor, facefirst. Then the shooter pushed his face against Jack’s. “Open your eyes, pig. I want my face to be the last you see.”
Jack kept his eyes closed. He wasn’t about to do what the man said. His next breath would be his last, he was certain. Watch over Eliza, Lord. She needs You.
A single gunshot rang out and the lineman fell to the floor.
Nothing made sense. Jack had been in a fatal trap, no way out. So how did his captor…
“Go!” It was a Bahamian police officer in uniform. “Out the front door.”
Jack hesitated only a moment. Something about the man was familiar, but then, that was impossible. He ran outside as gunfire broke out in the building. The shooting lasted only ten seconds or so and then agents and police officers began streaming through the front door.
A little while after, two agents including Camille walked the girls from the bedrooms onto the front lawn. They’d killed a total of three traffickers and arrested another two. None of the agents or officers were harmed.