The human trafficker was at the far end of the room with two other men, one of whom seemed to be a guard because he was drawing a weapon. Joe lifted his gun, barking out a command in Urdu.
“Drop it!”
Abassi’s mouth opened in a shout, and the guard paid no attention, pulling his gun and firing a shot in Joe’s direction. It went wide. Joe returned fire, hitting the man in his gun arm, forcing him to drop the weapon.
Abassi and the buyer seemed to have good survival instincts, since they dove for cover behind some of the beds that lined the room. For the first time Joe became aware of what he was seeing, and his stomach flipped over in horrified repulsion.
Metal beds almost filled the room, although only a few at the far end seemed to be occupied at the moment. There were wrist and ankle restraints dangling from chains on each, no doubt used to restrain the captives who were brought here. Even as he noticed these things, Joe was rushing toward the far end of the room, determined to catch Abassi. There was a chance Abassi or the other man were armed, but Joe couldn’t risk there being another exit by which Abassi could escape.
“Ismail Abassi!” He called out. “We have something to discuss!”
There was no reply, but Joe hadn’t really expected one. When he reached the down guard he stopped, kicking the man’s weapon away. The guard cursed at him in Urdu, using his good hand to grip the arm Joe had shot. Blood seeped between his fingers. The guy would probably bleed out without medical attention, but Joe found he really didn’t care.
“Be quiet or I’ll shoot you again,” he said, pointing his gun at the guard, unsurprised when the man glared at him but fell silent.
Joe turned his attention back to locating Abassi. He saw movement behind one of the beds, and he reached out quickly, capturing Abassi by his jacket, yanking him to his feet.
“Who are you?” Abassi spat. He was a surprisingly small man, perhaps five feet, four inches in height, slightly built with plenty of silver in his dark hair. He was physically unimpressive, but Joe had no doubt that this man was the snake he’d come halfway around the world to find.
“My name is Joe Morrissey,” he replied. “You sent a bunch of men after me. They tortured the man I love. That was a big mistake.”
Abassi’s eyes widened. “You! You killed my son! My only son!” he spat, beginning to struggle in Joe’s grip. “You deserve to die! I wish they’d killed all of you!”
Joe brought his gun up, pressing it against Abassi’s head. “Too bad for you, they didn’t.”
“Look out!”
Joe heard Drew’s shout, and he whipped his head around, seeing the other man, the apparent buyer, rising from behind another bed with a gun. There was no way Joe could move out of the way, and he couldn’t move his own weapon fast enough to shoot back. But even as the buyer fired, Drew had raised his own gun, firing a shot that caught the man in the chest.
Abassi lunged in Joe’s grip, likely trying to get away, but he timed things all wrong. His compatriot’s shot went wide, and Abassi got in the way, taking the bullet in the shoulder.
“No!” Joe didn’t release his captive, even as the small man cried out and fell to his knees. “You’re not getting away! Look at me! I want my face to be the last thing you see before I send you toJahannam!” Abassi squirmed, but Joe pressed his gun against the man’s head, again. “Time to get what you deserve.”
“Joe, don’t.” Drew’s voice was a calm, quiet counterpoint to the roiling tension in the room, and he approached slowly, holding his gun off to the side. “I know you think it’ll feel good to blow his head off, but you’ll regret it later.”
“No, I won’t.” Joe’s voice was hoarse, and he felt rage coursing over him. “It’s the only way to make sure Finn is safe!”
“No, it’s not.” Drew moved close enough to touch Joe, but he didn’t reach out. “I can call Herc. He’s got the task force you worked with standing by. They’ll be here in minutes. Let them handle it. They might get information out of him that could save even more victims, and you won’t have his blood on your hands. He’s not worth it.”
Part of Joe wanted to ignore Drew’s words. He wanted so badly to end Abassi’s life that he was shaking, as close to the edge of giving into pure rage as he had ever been in his life. But the rational part of him knew Drew was right. As much as he wanted Abassi dead for what happened to Finn, there was still a right and a wrong in this situation. Killing Abassi in cold blood, as much as it would ease his rage, would be the wrong thing to do.
Joe released his captive before holstering his weapon. “Tie him up,” he said in a hollow voice. He looked away, and that was when he noticed the occupants of the beds for the first time.
Half a dozen young boys and girls were strapped to the beds, all of them apparently unconscious. Joe’s gut twisted. They were chained up like animals ready for the slaughter. They were probably considered very special “merchandise” by the traffickers, and no doubt that was why Abassi had brought the buyer here, to purchase one or more of them for resale in the sex trade.
“Oh God,” he said, covering his eyes. “Call the task force, get them here. This… I can’t do this. Not again.”
Drew grabbed Abassi’s arm and wrenched it behind his back, purposely cold to Abassi’s yelp of pain. “Sit down, Joe,” he said, a hint of command in his voice. “Take some deep breaths. I’ll handle this.”
Joe wasn’t aware of obeying, but he found himself sitting on the floor. He put his head in his hands, shutting out the sight, and sank into his own private despair.
