The Prey

His cell buzzed and vibrated in the back pocket of his jeans. He’d forgotten all about the phone as he’d splashed through that bog in his pursuit of the girl. Fortunately, the protective waterproof phone case he’d placed it in before boarding the yacht had apparently done its job.

The buzzing recalled Wes to his original mission and he reached quickly for his phone. He swiped the screen to activate the call. “Yeah,” he said brusquely.

“I’ve been calling for twenty minutes. Where the fuck were you?” Hugh demanded by way of greeting.

“There was a storm here. It must have interfered with the satellite. Listen—”

“We finally got the go ahead,” Hugh interrupted. “Coast Guard has surrounded the island to prevent any incoming or outgoing boat traffic. Air traffic controllers on the mainland are on standby if any private planes try to go in or out of the designated coordinates. The taskforce should be there within a half hour. We’ve got ten men, fully armed, with warrants for search and seizure. They have authorization to arrest any and everyone who gets in the way.”

“Listen, Hugh, there’s bigger stuff going on here.” Wes spoke rapidly but in a voice he knew the girl could hear. “This place, this Pirate Island, isn’t just some high-class, super-exclusive escort service for wealthy men—there’s forced prostitution, probably sexual abuse and worse. I don’t know the magnitude yet, but I’m pretty sure we’re dealing with sex slavery, torture and human trafficking on top of illegal drugs. We’ll need to get the feds involved.”

“What the fuck,” Hugh exploded over the phone.

The sport whistle sounded again, closer this time. “Hugh,” Wes continued urgently, “I’m dealing with a crisis situation right now. I can’t stay on the phone. The team needs to tread cautiously and move very quickly. There are maybe ten or more young women here who will need to be protected and evacuated. We can’t let this turn into a potential hostage situation. You got all that?”

“Fuck,” Hugh breathed. “Yeah. I got it. Go do what you need to do. I’m on it.”

Wes ended the call and slipped the phone into his back pocket. His cover was blown, but that hardly mattered at this point. In a matter of hours, the jig would be up. He addressed the girl’s back. “Listen to me. I know you heard all that. I came here on an undercover assignment. My name is Wes Armstrong and I’m with the Drug Enforcement Administration. I’ve been following a drug trafficking ring that has led me here, and we’re about to make the bust.” He forced himself to speak gently and calmly. “I believe you and the other girls on this island are not here of your own accord. I want to help you. Talk to me. Tell me your name. Please, come out from under there.”

To his vast relief, the girl shifted beneath the blanket and managed to rotate herself in the small space so she was now facing him. She lay on her side, the blanket pulled around her, her eyes wide as she stared up at him. In spite of the wet hair plastered to her head and the dirt streaking her face, she was arrestingly beautiful, with large hazel eyes, high cheekbones and a sensual mouth.

“What’s your name?” he repeated softly.

“Mara,” she whispered.

“Mara,” he repeated. “Mara, do you believe I’m who I say I am?”

She stared at him a long moment. Finally she nodded.

“Can you get yourself out of there? Can I help you?”

Mara shook her head. “I can’t come out. He’ll punish me.”

Wes’ gut tightened. “Who will punish you? What for?”

She swallowed visibly and squeezed her eyes closed. She shook her head.

Not wanting to press her too fast, too hard, Wes let it go, for now. “I won’t let him,” he said firmly. “Come on. Come out of there. The taskforce is on its way. Whatever the hell’s been going on here, it’s over now. We’re going to get you the fuck out of here.”

Tears had begun to track in muddy streaks down her dirty face. “He’ll never let me go,” she said, her voice barely audible. “I’m property. A cunt. A piece of ass. I belong to him.”

Wes tried to keep the horror off his face. He shook his head firmly. “You’re none of those things, Mara. You belong only to yourself.” He held out his hands, willing her to take them. “Let me help you out of there. You don’t need to hide anymore. We’ll protect you.”

Wes moved closer, his open hand thrust into the space. Slowly, her eyes fixed on his, the girl rested her icy fingers in his hand. Gripping gently but firmly, he brought her forward out of the small enclosure, rising as he brought her out. Using his backpack as a makeshift cushion, he helped the young woman into a sitting position. The blanket had fallen away as he had helped her from the cave. He reached in to retrieve it and draped it around her shoulders.