The Traffickers (Badge of Honor 9)

He likes looks.

Delgado said to him, “El Cheque, you take the females into the house.”

“S?” he replied. “One minute.”

He trotted to the back door of the house and opened it. The lights from inside backlit him. Then he trotted back to the van.

“Okay,” El Cheque said.

Delgado, keeping his Beretta along his right thigh, opened the sliding door with his left hand.

“Women and children first!” Delgado said in Spanish, his tone upbeat. “Come, come! Follow El Cheque. He will show you to the house.”

Delgado looked at the woman sitting at the end of the second-row bench seat nearest the door. She was at least forty, overweight, and wholly unattractive. Slowly, hesitantly, she slid to the edge of the seat and stepped to the ground. She pulled a dirt-smudged silver backpack out from under the seat.

That is all of her possessions, Delgado thought.

Amazing.

Then El Cheque gestured toward the open back door of the house.

The woman did not move. She looked in the van to the dark-haired girl of about eight who’d been sitting beside her. The woman waited until the girl exited the van and collected her small vinyl overnight bag. The girl walked to the woman and took her hand. And they stood there.

The angry man Delgado had seen in the rearview mirror was the last one on that bench seat. He started sliding across the seat toward the door.

“Alto! ” Delgado said forcefully, holding up his left hand palm outward.

The man stopped. He made an angry face.

“That is my family,” he said, gesturing toward the woman and child.

You poor bastard, Delgado thought, glancing at the woman.

Love is blind.

“Women and children first,” Delgado said again. He looked to the next row back, which held four teenage girls. “Come, ladies. You’re next.”

As they stepped off, Delgado caught El Cheque out of the corner of his eye. El Cheque was watching with growing interest as the teenage girls exited.

Taking your pick, are you?

Your pick of one?

Or of which one first?

Three of the four were about fifteen and somewhat attractive. The third was maybe eighteen and, Delgado thought, not exactly unattractive. But she was a bit pudgy, and had badly bleached streaks in her hair. There were tattoos on her arms. They were not gang symbols, as far as he could tell.

Delgado looked back inside the van. He decided he wouldn’t have trouble with the other male. He looked to be about seventeen, and sat on the last bench, up against the window. He naturally would be the last off. Sitting next to him was a very attractive girl wearing a pink lace blouse. She looked a little younger than the boy, maybe sixteen. By their body language, they appeared to be more than just seatmates.

He motioned for Aguilar to come over.

“When you get them in there, collect all their phones and whatever address books or papers they have. Strip them of everything, especially any weapons or anything that could be used as a weapon. If they’re difficult, use that TEC-9 if necessary. Then let me know when it’s done.”

Delgado waited until Aguilar had herded all the women into the house before he let the two males in the van even move.

They had of course protested. But Delgado quelled that by raising his pistol. He said in Spanish, “I can use this now, or you can do as I say-and find out if I let you live later. Right now, I don’t need either of you or this van.”

Then Delgado said, “What you’re going to do to stay alive is step out of the van one