Not trusting himself to speak, Range stared—hard—until the guy faltered.
“What?” Tycho motioned to the monitor. “Look at her. She’s hot.”
“She’srepulsive! So are you, if you’re okay with sex trafficking.”
Tycho balked. “Never said that.”
“Take a walk if you can’t get your head out of your—”
“Easy,” Pike intervened, giving Range a pat on the shoulder. “Guys are just riding adrenaline, ready to get to work.” He indicated to the screen, addressing the team again. “This man is her personal bodyguard, Razam Osuli. There’s nobody she trusts more, so if you find him, likely you’ve found her or at least have a bead on her location. We don’t want a body count, but we’re also not leaving without her.”
“Boss.” Landry studied the map and satellite images of the compound. “Roud is looking heavily fortified … Like more than usual.”
“Correct. SATINT has seen increased security measures and a bigger presence of well-trained security belonging to Taweel Abdul-Ghulam.” Pike scratched his jaw. “The guy has invested millions in protecting his merchandise via security, sensors, tracking systems—you name it. There are at least a couple dozen well-armed guards inside.”
“Maybe because of Pretty Boy’s tête-à-tête with the Madam a few months back,” suggested Tycho.
“Don’t give him too much credit—he’ll get a big head.” Landry grinned.
Pike’s expression never shifted. “This isn’t anything you haven’t tackled before.”
Range had no doubt they could handle it.
Landry rubbed his hands together. “Need to hit the pit, lay out that compound, and figure out our infil and exfil. Do that till go-time”—he nodded—“we should be solid.”
“Simple and fast,” Tycho said with entirely too much bravado. “Get in, grab the lady, and get out. No complications.”
Which meant there would be. And Range wasn’t going to let cavalier attitudes jeopardize his chance to take her down this time. “Keep in mind that the madam is very skilled in CQC, so be ready.”
“He’s right,” Pike said. “This woman is not the type of girl you’d take home to Mom for Sunday dinner. She’s had to protect herself, the brothel, and those girls.”
Teeth gritted, Range didn’t like the way the chief portrayed her. “Don’t think of her as a victim—that’d be a deadly mistake,” he warned. “She works with and for Taweel Abdul-Ghulam. That should tell you something.”
Turning, Pike nodded to one of the analysts, who sent the intel to their devices. “Metcalfe has lead on this op, so respect that. I’ve sent pictures of Osuli and the Madam to your devices.” He glanced around the men and landed on Range. “Anything to add?”
“The Nigerians,” Range said, then stood and flicked data to the screens. “These girls are Adesina and Ginika, both kidnapped from one of Cord Gatlin’s safe-haven compounds in Nigeria. Watch for them. I promised my sister we’d keep an eye out.”
“Your sister—nowthereis a—”
Range speared him with a look, arms maneuvering to his sides for a fight. “The priority”—he bit out—“is Jazani, but if we can find these girls, it’d give us a big lead in connecting the business to its source. It’ll mean Nigeria is part of the same region and route as the Trench. That could aid in finding and cutting off the head of the dragon in this global ring.”
“AKA Viper,” Luther Landry muttered.
“Okay, Ladies,” Pike said. “Head down to the pit and start familiarizing yourselves with the layout of the village to help us review contingencies.”
Crammed into the narrow stairwell of the converted home, Range hustled down with one man who hadn’t commented in the briefing.
Former Iraqi soldier and interpreter, Tariq Wadi had joined the U.S. Army, then earned his citizenship for his meritorious service. “This is good thing,” he said. “Thisbusiness”—his lip curled at the word—“of hers is dark stain on my country.”
“On many countries.”
“There was time these women would have been stoned or give one hundred lashes.” Even with his broken English, he was still well-spoken. “Now, we free them. Help them.”
Was the guy annoyed or pleased?
They slipped into the basement-like pit, which was noticeably cooler as it welcomed them into its musty embrace.
“Pretty Boy,” Tycho called.
