Samuel sits next to me in the driver’s seat, his thumbs tapping erratically over the steering wheel. “This is wrong, Rafe.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I snap. His hard gaze meets mine. “There is no easy decision here.”
“You go too far for her.”
“Sam, how many innocents have we killed? How many years have we turned a blind eye to the Sinaloa sex trade?” He says nothing. “Anna pushed to take down the Sinaloa. Anna was the one who made sure those girls were saved.”
“Only to sell them out.”
“Twenty. Twenty are being traded. Hundreds have been pulled from the Sinaloa brothels.” I pinch the bridge of my nose. “It’s not right. But they would still be in those brothels if it weren’t for her.”
“They’d have been better off than with the Russians,” he says quietly.
I can’t have this conversation with him anymore. “Tell the pilot to prepare for takeoff,” I open the door, stepping out onto the runway. I walk over to where the private jet lingers. Una and Anna are seated side by side, talking in low whispers to each other. Anna has barely spoken to me in these last two days. The only person she seems to interact with is her sister. Una, for all her sins, seems to be helping.
I watch as she strokes Anna’s hair away from her face, and holds her hand. Maybe she can understand this better than anyone because she is a mother.
“You okay?” I ask Anna.
“Yes. Let’s go.”
The flight is quiet, but by the time we land, the tension is palpable, not only from Anna but all my men. None of them like this. I’ve only brought my most trusted guys for this very reason. I know they will follow my orders regardless of their own opinions.
The cargo plane lands an hour after us, and the girls are moved into a truck. Anna watches on, refusing to look away, as though to force the torture upon herself. Una finally tugs her in the other direction. We’ve already agreed that Anna won’t be at the trade. She’s too emotionally invested, and I don’t want to risk Dimitri seeing a weakness. I need this to go smoothly.
Una glances at me, and nods once, before ducking inside a low sports car. Anna peers through the window, offering me a sad smile before they pull away in a cloud of squealing tire smoke.
“Okay, let’s go,” I say, hopping into the passenger side of an SUV. Samuel drives. Carlos and Lucas sit in the back. The rest of the men are guarding the truck. I don’t trust Dimitri not to try and shaft me on this somehow.
The closer we get to the Elite compound, the more isolated it becomes, until houses are spaced miles apart rather than feet. The roads are flanked by dense forest for as far as the eye can see, and the green canopies give way to endless gray skies.
Finally, the road breaks, giving way to a track. From a mile away, I can see the perimeter fence, topped with razor wire. I know the base well, but only from blueprints. I spent hours studying them when Anna was brought here, looking for a way in, a breach, a weakness. And I know there is none, which is why this trade is happening.
We roll up to the gate, and armed guards check over the vehicles before waving us through. What looks like a massive reinforced steel door opens, and a man steps out, leading six others. All dressed in black, all armed to the teeth. Elite soldiers.
I get out of the car, and Samuel and Carlos follow suit, falling in beside me.
“Rafael D’Cruze,” the man says in his heavy Russian accent.
“Where is Dimitri?”
“The boss could not be here.”
I clench my jaw at the insult. He makes me trade twenty women, and he doesn’t even come in person. “I want to see the child.”
He tilts his head to the side in that predatory way that all the Elite seem to have. “I have orders to check the stock first.” Stock. I inhale a deep breath, clenching my fist tight enough that my knuckles audibly crack.
I gesture to the truck. “They don’t leave that truck until I see the child.” The man eyes me coldly before passing by and glancing into the back of the truck. “Bring the child,” he orders one of his men. He disappears back inside the concrete-walled compound they came from, and a few seconds later he brings a woman out. She’s holding a child, bundled in blankets and clutched to her chest.
I step forward, and she hands the baby to me, her expression devoid of anything. I glance down at the tiny baby, and my heart falters for a second. Bright blue eyes, the exact same shade as Anna’s, meet mine. Her lips are a perfect pink cupids bow, slightly parted as she stares at me with an awareness a baby so young should not have. I stroke a hand over the fine layer of downy gold hair on her head and I swear to God, this tiny thing owns me every bit as much as her mother in an instant. The urge to get her out of danger rides me hard. Tearing my gaze away, I turn to Carlos and hand him the child.