Nacho and I wait in the sweltering car as Charlie and Ant make their way to the warehouse. We’re in a shitty little one-row industrial park outside of McAllen, Texas, and despite the fact the sun went down over an hour ago, it’s so hot that the paved roads almost look like they’re melting.

Nacho points out the three old school buses parked in the lot. “That’s how they transport them.”

The buses showed up in our intel, and we plan on using them to transport the children to an abandoned hospital in McAllen. The Wimberley team bought the property a few years ago and has been quietly renovating it, so it should be a good place to help kids find their parents and reunite with them.

I suspect the proximity to the semiconductor plant is not a coincidence. Wimberley has been playing the long game.

Refocusing on our current situation, Charlie and Ant have to take care of the two guards, and if the one inside is anything like the one outside, I’m not too worried about it.

As soon as they’re done, Nacho and I can go in and talk to the kids, making sure they know they’re safe and will see their parents soon. I try to focus on that and not the fact Javier has killed two men. Or that it kind of turns me on.

As if he’s reading my mind, Nacho mops the sweat off his forehead and asks, “How’s it going with you and Javier? Is it a fling, or…”

I shake my head. “It’s early, but we’re pretty serious about each other. My mom always said when you know, you know.”

“True. You know, Bram didn’t talk about your parents very much, but now he’s doing it a little more. I wish I’d gotten to know them.”

I grin, thinking about how my mom always worried Bram would be too focused on academia to take a relationship seriously.

“My mother would love you to death. She’d want to put meat on your bones. She’d say, ‘Nacho, we need to put meat on your bones,’ and then she’d feed you until you begged her to stop.”

He chuckles. “Sounds like a good mom.”

“She was, and so was my dad. He would’ve taken a little longer to come around, though not because of anything to do with you. He was always slow to make friends. I suspect he’d recognize that what you do for Bram is what our mother did for him. He’d come to appreciate you so much.”

“Wow, I think that’s the nicest—”

His words are cut off by the sound of gunfire, and within seconds, Ant is back on the comms, panting heavily.

“Guard came back sooner than we thought. Charlie got hit. It’s bad.”

Nacho and I stare at the building just a few feet away.

“We’re less than ten minutes out,” Anders says. “I’ve got my kit with me.”

“Ant, can you and Charlie make it back to the car?” I ask as calmly as possible.

“I don’t think that’s going to be possible,” Ant says. “Charlie’s…um. Charlie’s unconscious.”

My stomach roils at the thought of Charlie injured and covered in blood, but Ant is by himself in that place.

“Ant, how many guards are there?” Erik asks, the urgency in his voice translating across the comms.

“I’ve only seen two. I’ve got the guy from outside right here, and he’s swearing it’s only him and the inside guy.”

“You’re talking to the guard?” Erik asks, incredulous.

“Yeah. He shot Charlie in the leg, so I put a gun on him and started asking questions.”

Frustrated with the particulars, I press him. “Are you in a secure location?”

More gunfire.

Ant laughs. “That answer your question?”

Javier’s voice comes on the line, steady and sure. “Ant, we had to hand off the little girl to Hedy, so we’re still a few minutes out. Listen to me. Good job getting more intel from him, but you need to kill the guard.”

There’s a brief pause as the line is muted, then Ant comes back on. “Okay. It’s done.”

“You killed him already?”

“Yes. Should I kill the second guard?”

Gunfire, far too close, fills the line.

“If he’s the one shooting at you, then yes.”

Another extended silence.

“Got him.”

Nacho looks at me, disturbed. “We need to go in there with him. He’s all by himself.”

Nodding, I hit my comms. “Ant, we’re going to join you and make sure the kids are okay.” Turning to Nacho, I confess, “Look, I’ve been working on the blood thing, but when it’s someone I’m close to, like Charlie, I don’t know how it’ll affect me.”

He nods. “I’ve got you.”

“Ant, we’re coming in.”

“Okay. Front door’s open. Just walk in.”

Exiting the car, we cross the street and open the door to an open-plan office with a big window looking out onto a small warehouse, where dozens of cots are lined up in rows. All the children are huddled in the corner. Refocusing on the scene in front of me, bloody drag marks on the linoleum floor lead us to the two dead guards off to the side, lying next to each other with jackets over their heads.

Huh. Surprisingly, it doesn’t bother me.

Nacho whistles under his breath. “Ant dragged their bodies over here.”

“Sorry,” Ant says, coming up to us. “I tried to cover the blood but didn’t have a chance to get to the floor.”

I shrug. “Looks like bad-guy blood doesn’t bother me much.”

“What about good-guy blood?” Charlie asks, his voice thin and weak. He’s past the bad guys, on the floor under a desk with a makeshift tourniquet tied around his leg above his knee.

It’s a little nausea-inducing, but…he’s alive.

“You’re awake!” Ant says, racing over to him. “Don’t move your leg, Charlie. I’m pretty sure the bullet hit something important.”

“Okay. I’m gonna…hang here for a moment. How are the kids?”

“Terrified,” Ant says, biting his lip, “but okay. We’re going to go check on them right now. Well, Nacho and Levy are going to do that, and I’ll stay here with you.”

“Nope. Go with them. I’ve got my gun.”

Ant hesitates, then faces us with a determined look. “Let’s go tell the kids this nightmare is over.”

I think it’s a little soon to say, but I keep that to myself.

Hiding his gun, Ant pushes past the door and walks into the warehouse area, followed by Nacho and me. He introduces himself in Spanish and tells them we’re here to take them back to their parents.

The oldest kid, maybe twelve, pushes his way to the front. “How can we trust you?”

“I’m one of the kids this team saved,” Ant says simply. “I do this now so little kids can’t be taken advantage of anymore.”

“I’m not little. I’m almost thirteen.”

“You’re right. You’re not little, but a lot of these kids are, and it looks like you’ve been taking care of them.”

“I do what I can, but the other day I heard them say it’s time to sell me back. Do you think they were going to send me back to my parents?”

Ant shakes his head. “They were going to sell you to work for somebody else, but now you get to go back to your parents.”

“My parents are in Guatemala,” a little girl says.

“Wherever your parents are, if it’s safe, we’ll make sure you get back to them. We’re going to a repurposed hospital to make sure you’re okay and have enough to eat, and then we’ll contact your parents.”

“What if my parents don’t want me back?” a little boy asks. “The man who took me said they didn’t want me anymore.”

Ant approaches the little boy and kneels to his height. “If that’s true, we’ll make sure you’re safe. But someone told me the same lie because that’s what these people do. They use lies and punishment to make you follow their rules. We’re here to break their rules and their lies.”

The little boy is holding a ratty teddy bear, and the fragile hope in his eyes tells me he wants to believe Ant’s words.

Before we have a chance to convince him, though, more gunfire sounds from the front. Through the big window, we see a guy slam open the front doors and advance on Charlie. The guy stumbles back, gut shot, but another guy comes in right behind him. Ant looks conflicted, but Nacho and I are armed and well trained. We share a glance, and I pull my gun.

“Go protect Charlie,” I order Ant. “We’ve got the kids.”

I turn to the oldest kid. “We need to put up a barrier. Can you work with some of the other older kids to make a wall with the cots and get everyone behind them?”

He nods seriously, then grabs three other kids around his age, and they corral the youngest ones to the back, pulling the cots on their sides, creating several layers of defense between themselves and the front of the building.

Nacho and I stand guard in front of the makeshift fort, watching as Ant, despite the large window, stealthily makes his way back into the office and takes out the guy’s knee with his knife, then steals the bastard’s own gun and shoots him in the face.

God, he’s fast.

Two more guys rush in, and Nacho startles next to me. Before we can contemplate helping him, Ant puts two bullets in each skull and grabs their weapons.

He turns to us and touches his finger to his ear, then points outside. The rumble of vehicles filters in from the street right in front of the office. Ant clicks on his comms, his voice steady. “Team, I need an ETA. Sounds like they’ve raised an army outside.”

Before anyone from our team can respond, the double doors at the front blow inward, knocking Ant off his feet, and he scrambles to hide behind a desk. At least a dozen security-force guys cross the office space, guns out as they pour into the warehouse.

“Team, they’ve breached the warehouse, advancing on us quickly. We’ve got, like, thirty kids in here,” Nacho says with an edge to his voice.

“Nacho, buddy,” I say, squaring my jaw, “we can’t let them fire their guns in here.”

“Agreed.”

We lower our weapons, hoping these guys will want to protect their investments.

“The kids are back here,” I say calmly and clearly.

“There’s more where they came from,” the lead guy snarls, aiming at Nacho.

As I’m calculating the odds of surviving this encounter, the enormous window between the office and the warehouse shatters and Anders steps through.

“Hey, boys. You miss us?”

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