I created an entire organization built solely around ending human trafficking. I started out as a hacker exposing the truths of our corrupt government. And then, as I became more aware of their true nature—the depravity of their sickness, it turned into personally snuffing out every single one of these sick bastards, starting from the bottom up.
Terminate all the worker bees, and the queen is left vulnerable and weak.
But I couldn’t be both a hacker and a mercenary, and what I really enjoy doing is being the one to put the bullet in their heads myself.
So, I created my org, Z, from the ground up, recruiting a team of hackers to help the mercenaries with their job—get into the rings, kill them all, and get the victims out safely. I stationed my mercenaries in high-rate trafficking areas and assigned them their own team of hackers. Now, Z has become so big that there are teams in every state, and several outside of the country as well.
Jay is the only mouth I need in my ear—his skill levels out to the equivalent of what three hackers could do. And he’s the only one I trust with my life.
I don’t acknowledge Jay’s sentiment.
I don’t fucking need luck. Just skill and patience. And I have both in spades.
Slinking up to the door, I keep my body close to the wall and my footsteps undetectable.
When I reach the door, I hear the subtle click of the door unlocking.
Jay’s doing.
Despite the decay of the building, it’s still equipped with the latest technology where needed.
The ring leaders want to keep the appearance of a rundown, abandoned building to remain under the radar. But completely impenetrable for squatters and graffiti artists.
“It’s clear. Systems are down for ten seconds, get in now.”
Quickly, I turn the handle and slip through in a matter of seconds, opening the door just enough to fit my body through. The metal door shuts behind me soundlessly.
The old building is mostly an open concept. I came through the back door that leads into a dimly lit hallway. Straight ahead and to the left will open up to where the machinery used to be when this was a rubber factory.
That is where the girls are being held.
Muffled screams reach my ears—the sounds of girls crying and in pain. White-hot rage blinds my vision, but I don’t rush in or lose my shit.
No one can do this job and lose their fucking shit, otherwise, these girls would never be saved.
It’s hard not to, though. These assholes bring out the worst in me.
“Overrode the cameras. You have one hour before the system resets, and I’m kicked out,” Jay informs.
I only need ten minutes.
Keeping to the shadows, I make my way through the hallway and peek around the corner. There are thin cots scattered across about a thousand square feet of space. Each cot is accompanied by a metal pole installed from the ground up. Each girl is chained to the poles by a metal collar that prevents them from moving only a couple of feet from their cots.
I flex my fists, tightening them until my hands go numb.
I pull my gun out of the back of my jeans.
Once they notice the first man is down, the rest will open fire, which is why I need to be careful and quick.
Whether they’re going to be careless about the girls is impossible to say. The men know the risk if their leaders find out a virgin girl was killed. That means money taken out of someone’s pockets and their head on a stake to set an example.
But some of these men care more about their own lives, even if it means they’re walking around with a hit on their head.
Just as Jay said, three men stand guard in front of me, completely unaware of my presence.
Stupid fucks.
I’ll never understand how people can’t sense danger when it’s right up their assholes.
Shit boggles me.
In one quick succession, I take out all three men. Their bodies drop, and a few of the girls jump. Some cry and hunker down, while others stay deathly silent. A normal reaction for a little girl would be to scream, but these girls have already been desensitized to murder.
The five men in the pit of girls turn their heads in tandem, their faces morphing from surprise to alarm to anger in a matter of seconds. Immediately, they scramble for their guns.
My body is still concealed by the wall I’m hiding behind. Two of them open fire, forcing me to back away. One bullet skids across the corner of the wall, right past my face. Chunks of concrete fly into my eyes as more bullets ping around me. I grunt, rubbing at my lids to clear my vision.
Right as I ready up again, one guy comes barreling around the corner. He’s dead before he even spots me, a nice little hole right between his brows.