26. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Rain pelted the SUV’s windshield in sheets as Chance and Berlin sat in the parked vehicle. He’d pulled over once they were about two miles from the cabin and had turned off the windshield wipers as he looked over the images Berlin had pulled up, including a very helpful aerial shot from one of the rental sites.
“What’s the closest house to this cabin?”
“Another cabin across the lake, about eight miles west. It’s a hike. We’re currently on your cousin’s property and it stretches out to the west for about an acre and a half. In the direction you’ll be heading, you’ll run into his place before crossing over into any other property.” She shifted the map slightly. “And that’s not for almost seven miles east. There shouldn’t be any neighbors nearby. And the house to the east is a hunting cabin anyway so it should be empty.”
“Okay, I’ll keep my eyes and ears on for you,” he said, motioning to the small camera he’d pinned to his shirt and then to his Bluetooth. “Should I tuck the camera under my rain jacket?”
“It’s waterproof. I mean, don’t soak it, but it should be fine.” She glanced out the window, frowned. “Maybe tuck it under your jacket, but don’t forget to bring it out again. I don’t like not going with you,” she grumbled as she turned back to him.
“Do you always go with your crew?”
“No. But it’s just the two of us. And I’m worried about you,” she blurted.
“I’m worried about you too. I hate leaving you here, but it makes the most sense for the mission.” And he knew she’d be safer here hidden in the woods miles from the cabin, something he kept to himself. He simply couldn’t have her running headfirst into danger.
“Be safe. I don’t…want to lose you,” she whispered.
Her barely admitted words hit him right in the chest. “You’re not going to lose me. If Enzo’s here, I’m getting him out. I’ll convince him to come with us and regroup. No matter what he’s taken, maybe we can figure out a deal with those psychos or get him to relocate somewhere.” It would have to be under another name, but these were things Chance had been thinking about the entire drive here. No matter what, he was going to keep his brother safe.
Leaning over, he brushed his lips over Berlin’s, the kiss turning deeper until he forced himself to pull back. Without another word, he slipped out of the vehicle, the pounding of rain increasing the moment he opened the door.
Pulling the jacket hood over his face, he stalked through the woods, his all-weather boots perfect for this trek.
“Can you hear me?” Berlin asked in his ear.
“Copy, loud and clear.” He squinted against the rain as he shoved the frond of a cinnamon fern out of his way.
His boots sank deeper and deeper the farther he made it toward the lake and cabin. For the most part it was just pine and oak trees with some random foliage mixed in. By the time he started seeing clusters of American beautyberry bushes, he knew he was close.
“You were right,” he murmured, though no one would be able to hear him over the torrent of rain.
“I’m always right. But about what?” Berlin asked, her voice quieter than normal over the line because of the rain.
“The American beautyberries,” he said. “There are a bunch of them on the edge of the woods and I can now just make out the cabin. There’s a light on too.” They were about half an hour to sunset, but the thunderstorm had blanketed the skies in dark gray so he was already moving around in shadows.
“Told you. It’s amazing how much people share online. But I’m glad they do or my job would be a lot harder.”
She’d created a full layout of the property based on images from reviewers, a newspaper write-up on rentals in the area, and from the actual rental site. And had told him that once he saw the bright clusters of purple berries, he should be close to the forest line and have a visual of the house.
“I’m also picking up a couple different signals. This is a smart house,” she murmured, more to herself than him, he was certain. “Aannd you’re clear to get inside,” she said, five minutes later. “I unlocked a window on the west side of the house. Should be a bathroom.”
“Thanks. I’m going quiet now.” He wouldn’t say anything unless absolutely necessary.
After visually scanning for any traps or trip wires he made his way across the open space from the woods to the wide-open west side porch that surrounded the cabin. This place was a lot different from when he’d been a kid. Everything had been updated down to the new Hardie board exterior. It was new and fresh and the kind of place people would love to stay in to get away from crowds and relax.
When he approached the porch, he paused at the cans hooked up on a long fishing wire. “See that?” he whispered.
“Yeah. Crude, but effective. I can’t pick up any interior cameras, but I’ve made it so that you’re invisible to the outside ones. Can you avoid the wire?”
“Yeah.” Slowly, he scanned the length of the porch, saw that the wire ran along the entire thing. Since the house was up off the ground, likely because of potential flooding, he had to climb up one of the columns, then ease his body over the near invisible wire. If it wasn’t for the rain leaving droplets splattered along it, glinting under the flashes of lightning, he might not have seen it.
His boots were quiet on the wooden porch.
“Be careful,” Berlin whispered. “It’s too damn quiet and I don’t like that I can’t see inside.”
Yeah, he didn’t like it either, but that was part of the job. He stripped off the wet jacket and all-weather heavy-duty waterproof pants Berlin had insisted he put on over his cargo pants. She hadn’t been wrong either. Because now he could sneak into the house dry-ish and not worry about leaving a huge trail behind him.
Once he slipped through the window into what turned out to be a small bathroom with a toilet, sink and shower he wouldn’t fit in, he withdrew his weapon and listened.
Rain pounded against the metal roof, making it impossible to hear much else. Which was good and bad for him. Though he hated trekking through the house in his wet boots, he wasn’t going to take them off.
He eased the door open, weapon out, into a quiet hallway. The walls were painted a soft gray, with white beadboard on the bottom half. Two black-and-white pictures of the nearby lake were on the wall in front of him, a narrow table with six books in between fish-shaped bookends underneath them. One direction would lead to the front of the house, where according to the layout should be the foyer, then a set of stairs.
So he headed in the other direction toward what would be a living room and connected kitchen. As he made it to the end of the hallway, he froze at a clanging sound.
“Are you okay?” Berlin whispered, though no one would overhear her.
Chance didn’t respond. Instead, he moved to the opposite wall on the hallway, trying to use the reflection from the bank of windows that ran down the entire back of the house. But curtains were drawn on all of them.
On the chance someone had heard him, he ducked low to avoid getting his head blown off and peered around the corner.
And froze.
There was a woman with her back to him at a stovetop, and soft classical music piping in from somewhere he couldn’t see. His instinct was to lower the weapon, but he couldn’t until he knew the situation.
When a man stepped into view, Chance moved out into the living room and raised his pistol—until his brother turned around.
Enzo’s eyes widened, but he shoved the woman behind him as she let out a short scream. “What the hell!”
Chance lowered the weapon to the side, but didn’t put it away fully. “Are you in danger? Who else is here?”
“I’m…in danger, yes, but not right this second. Nicola, this is my brother. He’s not a danger to us.”
A wide-eyed, dark-haired woman a solid foot shorter than his brother peeked around his back.
Chance sheathed his weapon as he stepped forward. “I don’t think we have a lot of time, so I’m cutting through all the niceties. Did you steal drugs from the Acton brothers?”
“Are you seriously asking me that?” Enzo’s eyes went flinty.
“I need to know what I’m up against. I can’t believe you’d ever even run drugs… Oh my god,” he trailed off, his gaze landing on the woman again. “You weren’t running drugs. You were running…”
“I wasn’t running people. Not intentionally. I was doing a favor for Brody Williams. I didn’t realize it was for a bunch of psychos who wanted me to deliver a van full of women to some assholes in North Florida. So I ran with them, tried to stay off the grid. I had enough cash and reached out to Danny, asked him for help. I didn’t give him specifics, so he has no clue what’s going on, but he said I could use this place.”
This changed everything. “A van full of women?”
“There’s eight of us.” The woman spoke quietly as she stepped out from behind his brother fully. She didn’t have an accent either.
“Are you American?”
“Yeah.”
“How old are you?” Unfortunately he had an understanding of how trafficking worked from some of his previous rescue missions and she was older than he normally saw.
The look she gave him was dry. “I’m twenty-eight, and yes, I know I’m not the normal age group. But I was taken for personal reasons.” Her jaw clenched, rage flickering in her dark eyes for a moment.
“We need to get everyone out of here now. When you called me, my friend was able to track your call. And if she did, then anyone else tracking your phone was able to as well. But we headed here right away so if we leave now—”
“Chance, we’ve got company,” Berlin’s voice said into his earpiece. “Two SUVs just rolled by on the road, headed your way. You’ve got maybe six minutes, but they’re booking it.”
“Okay, change of plans. Get everyone in here, we’ve gotta go.” He tapped his ear once as he moved fully into the kitchen. And that was when he saw that the woman was wearing a walking boot.
“What?” His brother stared at him, but the woman turned off the stove, clearly digesting everything faster.
“My friend has eyes on the road and two SUVs are headed this way. Any women in here, we need to move. They can’t be trapped in this house.” He knew from the online pictures that there was a boathouse and hopefully a kayak or two. “Get the women to the boathouse and I’m going to create a distraction.”
Enzo pulled out a small radio and relayed a short message into it. Moments later, seven young women—or teens, he wasn’t sure—raced into the kitchen. Most of them looked Latina, and if he had to guess they’d been trafficked from Mexico or Central America. His Spanish was rusty, but he said, “Bad men are on the way and if you want to survive, we have to leave out the back door now.”
Enzo added, “Es mi hermano, confío en él.”
They all nodded almost as one and fell in step, hurrying out the back sliding glass door. As soon as it opened, wind gusted in, sending the curtains flapping wildly.
“Go, go, go,” he urged. “Can you carry her?” he asked Enzo.
“I can’t leave you behind,” his brother insisted. “This is my mess.”
“This isn’t a mess and I’m proud of you for this,” he said even as he leaned down, pulled out another pistol and two loaded magazines, handed them to Enzo. “Get them out of here. Use kayaks or just swim, but get across the lake and out of sight. The rain will cover your movements. I’m going to do what I do best. Just trust me on this. Get to the other side and my friend will pick you up,” he said, knowing Berlin would hear him. “Her people will help them, I swear, now go.” He shoved his brother out the door even as he heard engines in the distance.
Enzo scooped up the American woman and disappeared into the blanket of falling rain.
Chance shut and locked the sliding door behind them. Then he turned the gas stovetop on, blew out the pilot lights. “You still with me, Berlin?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
“I want to get all of these assholes in here and take them out.”