“What the fuck is this?” Levy hisses over the line.
Nobody answers because we all know his question is rhetorical. We know exactly what we’re looking at. A real live baby mill.
Cries come in from a room off to the side, and the guys go barging in as a young woman, looking barely of age, is handed a brand-new baby, still covered in afterbirth. She’s being assisted by two terrified medical personnel, and all four of them are screaming.
Given how our guys look in head-to-toe black tactical gear, it’s a reasonable response. Erik, who’s at least six and a half feet tall, looks especially intimidating.
“Well, that’s something you don’t see every day,” Hopper whispers. “Women are so badass.”
True. But not really the point.
Charlie and Erik back out of the room with their hands up, trying to show they mean no harm. They scope out the rest of the place, and every new thing we see chills me to the bone. The worst is the—thankfully empty—room with shackles built into the wall.
“The place is clear, y’all. Bring in Nacho.”
Anders turns to me. “You ready for this?”
I let out a long breath. “Probably not. But let’s do it anyway.”
In a general sense, Charlie is talking about using me remotely when their Spanglish won’t cut it. I, however, asked to come on this one since it’s literally right next door and seemed like a simple op. Heh.
God, I’m hilarious.
Anders stands and reaches out his hand to me. I take it and let him help me up. This time, his eyes hold a depth of sincerity that genuinely makes me question reality.
“Hey, man. The fact you’re doing this for folks is super amazing. I know this is your first time working with people face to face, but I saw what you did in that last op. You’ll be great. I promise.”
Wow, okay.
He’s still fucking crazy, but he’s sorta nice about it. I think I can hang with that.
“Thanks, Anders. That actually helps. A lot.”
He pounds my back, nearly knocking me to the ground, then he and Hopper escort me to the fence, letting me go through the slit first.
“Hold up,” Anders says, walking to the gate.
Pulling bolt cutters from his pack, he snips the lock keeping these people in.
“What if they run before we can help them?” I ask, wondering if Charlie is aware of the lock situation.
Anders tilts his head. “Buddy, that’s the one thing we’ll never do. We don’t force innocent people to go with our interventions. If they want to leave, they have every fucking right.”
Huh.
“You’re right, and, uh, I’m glad you’re on our side.”
He slings his arm around my shoulders as we walk toward the building. “You have no idea how glad you should be.”
Hopper giggles, and I wonder how I ended up here. Oh yeah. Right. My boyfriend needed my help. Despite theeverythinggoing on, that puts a smile on my face.
Walking into the insta-building, however, silences the three of us. It is a very different experience than watching it from a distance on Charlie’s and Erik’s body cams. The bleakness captured in the video is ten times more intense in real life. The industrial new-building smell, the harsh lights, the lack of color…this is not a good place. No child should be born in a place like this.
And the young women look desperate. Terrorized.
What’s weird is that, save for worried glances, the rest of the women barely react to Erik’s and Charlie’s presence, which leads me to believe they must be used to armed men waltzing through their space. The three of us receive a similar non-greeting, and the women seem to be avoiding our eyes, some of them stepping in front of their babies.
I start in Spanish. “Does everybody here speak Spanish?”
