Chapter 25
Chapter
Twenty-Five
EREZ
Monday morning at ten to nine, Fade and I meet Zephyr in his office. Together, we head up to the tenth floor and enter a conference room like I’ve never seen before. Enormous doesn’t even begin to describe it. I’ve never seen a table so big in my entire life.
The walls are all glass panels, of course. They’re already covered in maps, camera feeds, articles, missing person shots, the faces of more than two dozen men—some of whom I recognize from earlier meetings with Zeph. There’s so much information on display, I don’t know where to look.
Then there’s Aven. They’re “standing” in the glass panels that are the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the farm and the wild game reserve beyond it. Of course, Aven still has their dick horn proudly on display.
“How is Aven not fired?” Fade murmurs.
I try not to smile at his question. My lips twitch. Especially when Aven looks in our direction. Their eyebrows raise in confusion, surely wondering why they would be fired.
“Remember what I told you about the estate. No body part is shameful. Shed your toxic indoctrination.”
Fade snorts. “Are you telling me that if I had my dick on my forehead, I’d be allowed to walk around like Aven does?”
Aven, with ears everywhere, grins widely. They’re following Fade’s line of thought now.
“If you had a dick on your forehead, you’d be in a lab somewhere.”
He laughs quietly.
There are people throughout the room already. At the far end of the room, I see Greylyn with her father and brother. Jalon is wearing a delicate headband with a bow, and Voss is in a sundress. Both have their nails painted. From this distance, I think Jalon is even wearing some smoky eyeshadow.
Because I’m not sure if Fade recognizes them, I nod in their direction. “You remember Grey?” Fade nods, but his attention is riveted. “That’s King Jalon and big brother Voss with her.”
“I, uh…”
My grin stretches as Fade looks around the office and notes that even employees that aren’t Van Doren are dressed in non-conforming fashions. Fade isn’t sure where to look or how to get his staring under control. Aven was a good enough distraction with their cock horn.
“This is… I wish there was a place like this when I grew up,” he says quietly.
I’m a little surprised by the thick emotion in his voice. How much of himself is he still hiding from the world? I grip his hand, and Fade’s eyes meet mine. He smiles lightly, and we take our seats as people truly begin filing in.
My parents join us. My brothers, of course. The psycho twins. The triplets. In a way, I feel like I’ve walked into a family reunion. All the Van Doren of my generation and the one before us greet me with hugs. I’m reminded how important family is to them and that they have no problem reminding me.
I introduce Fade, studying him as he notes every way in which their appearances aren’t traditionally masculine or feminine based on their perceived gender.
When the room settles into their seats, Fade bows his head and takes several breaths.
I suppose it’s one thing to be told about the safe and inclusive world the Van Dorens created within the ugly one that can’t penetrate its bubble. It’s another thing to see it in person.
It was even louder when we were kids as the older generation did everything they could to make sure that the new generation knew that whoever they were, however they identified, whatever they wanted to do, there was nothing about themselves that they needed to fit into a mold.
Humans assign gender, sexuality, and identity where it isn’t asked for and without that person’s input.
That’s never okay, and it’s not the case on the estate.
It’s a world I feel fortunate to have grown up in.
“Everyone here?” Grey asks, her gaze touching on everyone in the room.
It briefly lingers on Fade before moving on.
“Good. Welcome to Operation Life. You’re all here because you have a specific skillset and we’re on a deadline to accomplish the sensitive task at hand.
Are there any questions before we begin? ”
I glance at Jalon and note how relaxed he appears—not that I’ve ever seen that man look anything other than calm and at ease.
I think I can also see the pride in his eyes as he looks at Greylyn.
His eyes flick to mine as if he knows I’m watching him, and his smile climbs a little.
I smile in return and turn my attention back to his daughter.
“Aven will be pulling up the visuals as we need them,” Greylyn says.
“First, for those who aren’t aware, a brief explanation.
Many years ago, one of our own rescued an abused little girl.
She grew up with us as one of our family, and while she never shared what happened to her, we thought she was healing as much as one does after what she went through.
Ten years ago, almost to the day now, she ended her life, proving to all of us that there was still darkness in her past that she couldn’t escape. ”
I try like fucking hell to keep my emotions in check. You’d think that after all this time, tears wouldn’t immediately sting my eyes.
Fade’s hand rests on my leg and flexes in support. I cover his hand with mine, tangling our fingers together so I have someone to hang onto.
“While I don’t think any of us truly accepted her departure at face value, one of her brothers never gave up looking for anything she could have left behind in explanation.
Just over three months ago, he found a whole lot of missing puzzle pieces, and the extent of abuse in her past has come to light.
Through the dedication of our investigation team, we’ve learned that those horrors are still in operation and have likely grown. ”
Greylyn meets my eyes in what I feel like is a warning. Prepare yourself.
“They’ve uncovered a very large and intricate pedophile operation.”
A series of Alice’s paintings pop up in mid air along with the faces of the men depicted in the paintings. Interwoven are still images from camera clips as well as short video reels. The whole lot appears in a ring that spans the entire table and slowly revolves so everyone can see.
My breath catches, and I turn my attention away, not wanting to see the paintings. Especially when they’re from Alice’s point of view. Instead, I concentrate on the sounds in the room. The gasps of horror. The quick sniffles. The murmurs.
“What they’ve uncovered is that this man, Herman Trumpstein, has been trafficking young children into his facilities and, as delicately as I can put this while painting you an accurate picture, leasing these children out to pedophiles.”
My stomach churns. More disgusted and horrified murmurs spread around the table.
“Here’s what we know: Trumpstein had been operating out of this laundromat at one point.”
An image of the laundromat before it was torn down fills the empty space of the table. Around it are several different sketches from Alice’s journal.
“There’s evidence that something went down here. This was the base of Trumpstein’s operation for quite a while.”
Greylyn goes through the information my brothers, Fade, and I recently discussed with all the fake names and businesses. The laundromat closing but the lease being maintained. Now the destruction of the entire strip mall. Trumpstein’s new businesses.
“From what we’ve observed through personal cams, the victims are leased from the animal shelter, but very few are being returned to this location.
We know that they’re transported to the shelter again at some point because we’ve captured evidence of the same victims being taken several times by different predators.
We have surveillance set up at all five businesses, but we know we’re missing at least one based on tracking the victims being taken from the shelter and returned to a different location.
There’s a hole somewhere. A missing piece.
“Earlier this week, we sent a dozen of our people out to put eyes on everyone and follow trails they find promising. We’ve managed to find the delivery trucks used to bring the victims back to the shelter.
Unsurprisingly, they’re marked as animal feed delivery companies, which was why they were initially overlooked.
We figured this out because the name displayed on the truck is actually a non-operational company that’s registered to Trumpstein. ”
A visual of the truck fills the air in the middle of the table. It rotates in a circle so we eventually see a three-hundred-sixty-degree view of it.
“We’re creating a database of pedophiles,” Greylyn continues, and a scrolling list of names appears next. “These are men identified from the paintings and from our cameras. You’ll be disgusted to know that some of them are still preying on young children twenty years later.”
Fade makes a face.
“What the fuck,” someone else mutters.
Greylyn nods. “These are the big details. Now, we’re going to move onto planning how to take this operation to its knees and dispose of those involved.”
“Bruno is hungry,” one of the triplets says. I’m pretty confident that’s Ellory, just based on his slightly unhinged smile.
“Bruno is always hungry,” Greylyn says, giving her uncle an amused smile. “Though I’m a little surprised that’s your first form of punishment. I’m disappointed.”
“I’m getting old,” Ellory says.
There are several snorts around the table. I laugh under my breath.
“Anyway,” Greylyn says, “what to do with them is not the most pressing detail we need right now. As already stated, this is a very big operation. We not only need to simultaneously infiltrate all of the Trumpstein businesses that are involved, but to also be at the house of every predator who currently has one of our young victims in case there’s a universal alarm sent out.
“This isn’t as simple as going in, getting the children, and leaving again.
This is rescue as well as taking the pedophiles into custody.
That’s two different vehicles at the predators’ houses.
The children have been through enough, and they will not be transported with their abusers.
We’re looking for two different teams for each location—the team who rescues the victims should be female presenting.
As we know from our lost sister, they’re going to be triggered by male-presenting individuals.
This child-trafficking ring is primarily if not solely operated and utilized by men. ”
“Shocking,” someone mutters under their breath.
Greylyn gives them a bland smile. “Indeed.” She looks at her father for a moment. “We’re going to house the children at Van Doren Prep for now. Since school is out for the summer, that’ll give us a safe space for them while we figure out what our next step is.”
“We don’t have a plan for after we have them?” someone asks.
“That’s not important right now,” Zephyr says. “The most important outcome of this entire thing is to get those kids to safety. We have the means to do that, which means we’ll have time to figure that out after the fact.”
The person who asked the question frowns but doesn’t argue.
“We’ll also have therapists on hand for our victims,” Greylyn says.
The space over the middle of the table changes, and a whole lot of Amber Alerts fill the air.
“It appears that these kids may have been trafficked from all around the country. Very few have been picked up from our own backyard, which makes sense on their part.”
“Do we know who’s trafficking the kids?” Avory asks. I know it’s Avory because he’s got a full beard and long hair.
“We’ve identified a handful, yes,” Greylyn says.
“All of the kids in the pictures you had up earlier are young. You said this has been in operation for twenty years,” Emerson says.
I hadn’t noticed him in the room. He’s always a little inconspicuous because he’s so quiet.
“Yes.” Greylyn bows her head. “We’ve noted from the missing persons reports that the children targeted are between the ages of two and four, generally speaking.
We’ve noted from video feeds that they’re no older than maybe eight.
We don’t know what happens to them once they…
outgrow their use. Unless we want to keep observing and wait for an undetermined amount of time, that information is going to be derived from the men we take into custody. ”
“I’m already horrified,” someone whispers. “I can only imagine.”
“I think they’re trafficked further,” Lanzo says, and the room turns to look at him.
“Why do you think that?” Greylyn asks.
Lanzo shrugs. “Because they can make money off them right up until they’re disposed of.
Once they’ve outlived their usefulness in Trumpstein’s operation, they’ll be sold to another whose demographic ranges from ages eight and up.
Killing them means they have to dispose of bodies, and that’s going to get tricky.
Just because Trumpstein’s clientele prefer them very young doesn’t mean another’s do too. ”
“I hate the cold way you talk about living children,” Emerson says with a grimace.
Lanzo looks in his direction. “Do you really want me to take the time to think up words that will make you more comfortable with this conversation?”
Emerson scowls at him but doesn’t answer.
“I think Lanzo’s probably right,” Greylyn says. She looks at her cousin who is actually her uncle. “Harden your nerves, Em. This is only going to get uglier.”
“What are the chances we’ll be able to find them aging these kids out before we go in?” Voss asks. “I haven’t been watching the development of this situation, so I’ve only read the briefing you sent me, Grey.”
“From what we can tell, there are a dozen victims in their hold right now.”
Different video stills litter the area over the desk, shifting slowly so we all get a look at the different children. Two things stand out. The kids’ faces are almost always obscured, and they’re almost all little girls. There are two little boys.
“This is sick,” Fade murmurs.
I lean into his side and nod.
“Doing what they do best, Aven has identified twelve individuals, all between the ages of three and six. Unless there are additional victims not being… borrowed… There’s no one currently in their prison that will be aged out for another two years or so. To answer your question, not good.”
“When do we move in?” I ask.
Greylyn meets my eyes. “As soon as we’re sure we know of all locations. I promise.”
I nod. For the rest of the conversation, I feel a little detached, like I’m in another room, listening through the wall. Their words come to me muffled, right up until I hear Dadaz speak.
“I want to deal with all the pedos personally.” His voice is cold, which isn’t all that unusual. I look at Dadaz, and he’s watching me. “Especially those who hurt my daughter.”
My chest seizes and vision blurs. Fade wraps an arm around me tightly.