Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
Foster moved closer to the wall that appeared solid. He had a suspicion that there was more behind that wall than they first thought. That sound hadn’t been random.
It wasn’t raining, so it couldn’t be the sound of drips finding a loose spot to run down the beams of the roof, and nothing else was running. No water, no TV, nothing. It had to be a person.
He ran his hand along the wall, thinking it felt weird. “There’s something over here.”
“We checked that area. There’s nothing there,” Cy said.
Foster knew his buddies were thorough at their jobs, but he’d heard tapping and knew there was more to it. He wished the noise would start up again, but whoever or whatever was behind it had gone silent.
Foster turned back to Cy, his lips down in a frown. “What if the human trafficking rumors were true, and there are people back there?”
Cy pulled out an imager he carried with him that scanned the walls, looking for multiple things, including heat and also hollow spots. “I don’t think we’re going to—” The image changed, and Cy paused, then went back over the area. “It may not be anything.”
“It could be something,” Foster said.
“Let’s take the wall down,” Wave said.
They cut into the wall, removing the thin paneling that hid the secret entrance to the stairs. They already had the lights on where they were, so Cy tossed down a few glow sticks, giving them enough light to see there was nothing there other than stairs leading down.
Foster took the lead, heading down the stairs with his weapon ready.
He heard a noise, someone muttering something in a very low voice.
The tapping started up again. He paused before turning the corner.
The light at the end of his weapon illuminated a mishmash of cages and what looked like cells along one wall.
The smell had been creeping up on him as he went down the stairs, but now that he was down here, the full force was almost overpowering. It was humanity at the rawest point. The people looked dull-eyed as they stared back at him.
Cy was right behind him and froze when he turned the corner. “Well, fuck. This isn’t what we expected.”
Foster used his coms to speak to Wave. “We’ve got at least thirty people in cages down here, probably more.”
Everything changed the instant they’d found these people. It wasn’t just a crowd of women, but there were men down here, too. All of them were skinny, malnourished, and based on the sores and bruises, they looked like they’d been abused.
“Does anyone speak English?”
One woman stuck her hand out of the cage she was in. “I’m American.”
She sounded like she had a little Jersey in her voice, but it was mixed with something else, like she hadn’t lived there the whole time growing up.
“Anyone else speak English?”
A man at the back raised his hand, but he had to hold it up with his other hand. He looked very weak and thin, like he was close to death. “Australian.”
A few other people spoke up in English, but most of the crowd wasn’t speaking English. He heard a mix of Asian languages and Middle Eastern dialects.
They needed someone else in here to help. But there wasn’t anyone else coming to aid them on this mission. They would need two helicopters to get everyone out. This mission was turning out to be more than they’d bargained for.
Foster moved to the cage where the American woman had spoken up. “Where are the keys?”
She shrugged. “I’m not in charge. I have no idea where the keys are. If I knew, I sure as hell wouldn’t be in here.”
No question that woman had a mouth on her. He was amazed she hadn’t been killed. Then again, she was locked in a shitty short cage that prevented her from straightening her legs or even her back. She couldn’t stand or lie flat. It seemed like she had to curl into a ball just to fit.
“I have the bolt cutters,” Cy said.
“Get to work, then, buddy.”
Cy moved in, cutting the locks. Foster and his crew still had to have their guns at the ready.
Not that any of the people in the cages would attack, or he didn’t think they would.
They sure as hell didn’t have the strength by themselves, but together they might be able to mount some kind of offensive.
Based on the way they were acting, they weren’t going to put up a fight.
Most of them seemed thrilled to be free, if someone on the brink of death could look thrilled.
It took about ten minutes to get everyone out and upstairs.
He was amazed these people didn’t make a fuss and acted in an orderly fashion when they found water bottles in a cabinet and started handing them out.
Maybe it was their guns keeping the peace.
He watched in awe as they passed the bottles around, making sure everyone had something to drink.
Foster hated this. Not because they were dealing with stinky or dirty people, and these people hadn’t done anything wrong, but these people being here showed how disgusting certain people were. How could anyone lock people in cages and starve them?
He’d seen it time and time again, not this bad, but bad. Usually, before it got this bad for the people locked away, someone would kill them. This was horrifying.
He wanted to get the guy they’d come here to take for interrogation and torture him for hours. No amount of punishment would ever be justice.
That he couldn’t act on his impulse to maim that jerk angered him. He blew out a harsh breath. His mission was to get the freaking terrorist out of here so the spooks could interrogate him. If Foster killed him right now, he would get into a shit ton of trouble.
Foster turned and found the American woman watching him. “What’s your name?”
The woman narrowed her gaze, looking like she was judging whether she could trust him. He wanted to laugh. He’d freed her from her cage, but he wondered if she thought he would put her in another cage.
“Pen, short for Penelope. Last name, Warner.”
He nodded. “I’m Foster. Anyone else American that you know about?”
She shook her head, then tried to lift one arm over her head, wincing as she moved.
She was leaning against the wall. Her body bent like she couldn’t stand up straight.
Her hair was falling out, and her eyes were sunken.
Even with the dress that covered her body, it was obvious she was underweight.
In addition to having trouble moving, she looked like she could be blown over with a stiff wind.
After she made a few more faces as she tried to stretch, she spoke.
“I only showed up here a week ago, maybe more. Time has little meaning in the cage. Apparently, the last guy holding me didn’t like my attitude.”
He nodded as if he understood. On some basic level he did, but the idea of locking someone in a cage was abhorrent, and he would never understand.
With the way she’d spoken to him earlier, he imagined she hadn’t fit in well in whatever place she was in before. Guys who kept people in terrible conditions usually didn’t like to be talked back to.
“Where is home in the US?”
“Nowhere.”
“Really? I hear a bit of Jersey in your voice.”
“Yeah, well, that was before my mother decided to chase after my father and moved me to Vegas so he would have to confront the fact I was his. It didn’t go so well.
The bastard sold me to pay off the gambling debts he’d amassed.
I guess I was useful to him, eventually. Going back to Vegas would be stupid.”
Her words made him pause. He knew parents did shit like that, selling their kids, but that usually happened when the kids were younger. There was no way this woman would still be alive if she’d been shoved into this life when she was a child.
“That’s awful.”
A shiver snaked through her, making her whole body shake.
One of the other captives came close, and she shrank back, making him think she wasn’t all snarky words and bravado.
It took her a moment to speak again. In that time he studied her.
She was young, but obviously an adult. The cuts and bruises would heal, and it didn’t seem like she had any major scars on her face.
She was skinny and absolutely malnourished. Her recovery would be hard-fought.
“My dad’s a bastard. Always has been, and my mom is dead. There is nothing for me to go back to.”
He nodded, thinking she couldn’t have had a good life if her dad had sold her to traffickers. “What will you do?”
She shrugged, keeping a wary eye on everyone around them. Being held captive had been hard on her.
“Heck if I know what I’ll do. I hadn’t counted on getting free and making my way back to the US. I really thought I would die here, or wherever they planned to sell me to next.”
Wave whistled, getting their attention. “Our ride is almost here. It’s time to go.”
Foster watched as she tried to stand up on her own. She didn’t have the strength to hold herself up. Her knees looked like limp noodles as she held onto the wall, trying to get upright.
She was all talk, but not much else. Maybe if she had food in her, she would have some strength. Right now she was about as strong as a newborn calf.