“They’ve still got quite a few people with them—carrying pickaxes, shovels, and sticks—heading your way. You’d better be careful.”
Warren’s anger flared as he listened to his subordinate’s report. He’d been leading anti-trafficking operations for years and had seen all kinds of rural bullies and local thugs. But this was a first: even with so many police officers in the village, these people still had the nerve to act out so brazenly.
“Miss Windsor, don’t worry. As long as we’re here, you’ll be safe. I promise,” Warren assured Ivy, then immediately grabbed his satellite phone to call his superiors and request backup.
Originally, they’d hoped to keep things quiet—just slip in, rescue the victims, and leave without causing a scene. But now, with the situation rapidly escalating, it was clear subtlety was no longer an option. They’d have to go all-in, call in the SWAT teams, the National Guard—whatever it took to bring this mob under control.
After a brief rest, the group pressed deeper into the mountains. Unfortunately, as dusk fell and the shadows stretched longer, they still hadn’t found any sign of the cave they were searching for.
The sun was sinking fast, and the temperature on the shaded side of the mountain dropped sharply. For safety’s sake, Jamison and Warren discussed their options and decided to head back, planning to try a different route in the morning. By the time they finally struggled out of the mountains, it was nightfall—pitch black all around.
Yet down at the foot of the mountain, a blaze of lights awaited them. Torches flickered. Flashlights bobbed. Dozens of villagers stood ready, clutching tools and makeshift weapons, their faces tense and determined—like some medieval mob preparing to storm a castle.
To Warren’s dismay, the backup he’d requested still hadn’t arrived. Jamison was about to ask Derek if his team had made it through, but then he saw Derek answering his phone. Derek’s face turned grim. “Mr. Jamison, the road into the village has been dug up. Our people have to make their way on foot—it’ll take a while.”
Warren received the same update. The road was blocked. No vehicles could get through. Reinforcements would be walking, and that would take precious time.
“Mr. Ludwig, Miss Windsor, don’t worry. They’re sending a helicopter. It’ll be here soon,” Warren said quietly after finishing his call, lowering his voice for Ivy and Jamison.
With air support on the way, and more than twenty officers still with them, they could hold out for a while. Jamison’s expression was grim and tense. Instinctively, he stepped in front of Ivy, shielding her from the villagers’ view.
But the crowd had already identified her.
“That’s Daisy—Silly’s wife! She’s come back!” the ringleader shouted, certain.
Someone else immediately called out, “Daisy, after you ran away, Silly’s dad beat him so bad he couldn’t get out of bed. Silly’s mom fell and shattered her bones—she’s still bedridden! Now that you’re back, you better take care of them! You’re Silly’s wife—alive or dead, you belong to their family. Just accept your fate!”
Ivy’s breathing quickened with anger, and she was about to step forward and lash out, but Jamison held her back with a firm hand. He turned to Warren and said, “Warren, shouldn’t we record all of this? These people are clearly complicit in human trafficking. Justifying buying and selling human beings like it’s nothing—it’s a blatant challenge to the law. If we let this slide, we’re only encouraging more crimes like this.”
“Absolutely. I was hoping to get the victims out first before pressing charges, but now it’s clear—we need to arrest these accomplices right now if we want to find out where the victims are being kept,” Warren replied, issuing a sharp order.
Immediately, seven or eight officers moved forward, pulling handcuffs from their belts. The villagers realized the police meant business. The ringleader waved his arms and yelled, “What’re you all waiting for? Get her! Whoever grabs Daisy first gets to keep her!”