Always.
"So what's the play?" Hakon asks from the front seat. "We know they're moving kids Thursday, probably earlier now. We know the exit—192. We know the destination is Atlanta. What else do we need?"
"Exact location of the warehouse," Fenrir says. "How many men they have. What kind of security. How many kids are in the shipment."
"And what we're gonna do with the traffickers once we have them," Ulf adds quietly.
The truck goes silent.
We all know what that means.
The club's killed before—self-defense, protecting territory, eliminating threats.
But this is different.
This is premeditated.
Calculated.
Hunting.
"We vote on that inkirkja," Fenrir says finally. "But my personal opinion? Anyone trafficking kids doesn't deserve to breathe."
Nods all around.
"Tomorrow morning" Fenrir continues. "Full church. We present what we learned, vote on next steps, and mobilize. If they're moving that shipment early, we need to be ready."
"What about the cops?" I ask. "They have the girl now. They'll investigate. Might step on our operation."
"Let them investigate. By the time they put together a task force and get warrants, we'll have already handled it." Fenrir's voice is hard. "This is our territory. Our people. We protect our own, and that includes every kid in North Florida."
My phone buzzes again.
This time it's a news alert—AMBER Alert canceled, child recovered safely, reunited with family.
I show it to the others.
"That little girl's on her way home," Ulf says quietly. "Because of us. Because Gunnar didn't walk away."
"And how many others are still out there?" Hakon asks. "How many more Thursday shipments have already happened that we didn't stop?"
The weight of it settles over the truck.
We saved one.
But there are more.
Always more.
"We end this," Fenrir says. "Whatever it takes. We find that warehouse, we get those kids out, and we make sure these bastards never do this again."
"Agreed," I say.
Hakon and Ulf echo it.
The rest of the drive passes in tense silence, each of us processing what we learned, what we saw, what comes next.
When we finally pull into the compound, it's nearly two in the morning.
