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Seconds later, he stands, glancing at his phone, and heads for the back of the club. Shadow and I are right behind him. He’s got two men with him, but that won’t be a problem. We’ve handled bigger groups.

We let him get through the back exit then follow. Stealth already has two men on the ground, his gun trained on them. Frisco panics, trying to make a run for it, but I’m on him, tackling him to the pavement while Shadow deals with his friends.

“Three girls in the back of the van,” Stealth says, his tone dripping with disgust. “Fucking kids.”

“Hey, man,” Frisco says while I’ve got my knee on the back of his neck. “I-I’m just the middleman. I’m supposed to deliver this shipment to the south side.”

“It’s not a shipment, you piece of shit. These are humans. Children.”

“I don’t know, man. I just do what I’m told to do.”

“Who do you work for?” Shadow asks.

“I can’t tell you that.”

Shadow shoots one of the bodyguards in the head and Frisco whimpers.

“How about now?”

“Uh… shit. He’s gonna kill me.”

I chuckle. “I wouldn’t be too concerned about that right now.”

Stealth pulls his trigger on the two men on the ground and Frisco freaks out now, trying to get away from me, but of course that’s not gonna happen.

“Okay, okay. His name is Jon Ribotello. He goes by Big Jon and he’s out of New York. He hired us to get his shipments, drugs and stuff, from our train station in Mistone to hand off to another guy who moves them along. Headed for South America, I think.”

“You’ve been very helpful, Frisco,” I say.

Stealth stomps over, his boots heavy on the cracked pavement. “May I?”

I move out of the way. “By all means, brother.”

Frisco scrambles for freedom, but Stealth is on him, firing his gun into the back of Frisco’s head. We have five bodies and three girls in the back of a van now.

“I can take the kids to the shelter,” I offer.

“Cool,” Stealth says. “I’ll use the van to get rid of these losers.”

“I’ll follow you, Stealth, and get you back,” Shadow says.

With our plan in place, I walk to the back of the van and open the door. My stomach turns when I see the girls. Stealth wasn’t exaggerating. These girls aren’t even teenagers yet. Disgusting. Their wrists are bound and they’re blindfolded, all dressed in simple white nightgowns.

I decide to get them out but leave their blindfolds in place until we get past the dead men. They don’t need that additional trauma.

“I’m gonna get you help now.”

One of the girls whimpers, mumbling something in a language I don’t understand. I tug her blindfold down slightly so she can see me. Terror fills her big brown eyes and I can’t imagine what she’s been through.

“Whisper,” I say, pointing to myself.

She stares at me, sniffling.

“Help. Not hurt.”

“H-hep?”

I nod. “Yes, help. You speak English?”