the other agencies’ involvement. The diversity of the law enforcement officers covered all the crime angles: prostitution, illegal immigration, human trafficking, and kidnapping. Of course, his personal goal was to find Maria and the four other women taken from Pedro’s group.
The vice cops were taking lead on the raid since prostitution was the obvious crime and the other violations were only possibilities. He didn’t like not being in charge, but sometimes, playing nice in the sandbox was required. He snorted softly. Seriously, what were the chances that all the people inside the building were here legally and voluntarily?
He rolled his shoulders, twisted his head from right to left, and arched his back to work out the kinks from crouching in the shadows for the past hour. Impatience simmered just below the surface.
Get on with it already.
As if hearing his silent plea, the top vice cop spoke in his ear. “Standby. On my mark.”
Thank God, it was time to move in. A minute later, the command to proceed came through loud and clear.
Seven armed men advanced on the whorehouse, which was actually a small commercial building, not a residence. Four headed for the front entrance while three circled around to the back. Each had been trained to know his role and what to expect from the others.
On the leader’s command, both doors were rammed open. Shouted orders and Spanish cursing competed to be heard over the music playing on a radio. Smoky haze stung Ben’s eyes. The stench of dirty bodies, stale booze, and old garbage filled his nostrils.
The four guards sat on the floor, smoking weed with some of the johns. Surprising the drug-impaired suspects, the agents and cops subdued them before they could even reach their weapons.
As designated on the blueprints he’d studied earlier, Ben raced down the hallway leading to the three offices that served as bedrooms. Assigned the closest one, he flung the door open and brandished his gun. “FBI! Freeze! Hands where I can see them.”
The woman screamed. The john sprang off the rollaway bed and launched himself at Ben. A quick sidestep and a blow to the back of the neck was all Ben needed to take down the half-naked man. With the john sprawled at his feet and whimpering, he shot a quick glance at the prostitute. His jaw clenched.
Poor woman.
She was completely naked and tied to the filthy bed. Wide-eyed and trembling, she babbled something Ben couldn’t understand. He exhaled.
She wasn’t Maria or any of the others.
Part of him was disappointed, but another part was really glad.
Chapter 6
Dead tired, Ben trudged up the stairs to his apartment at two a.m. Wednesday. He should be on an adrenaline high, but he wasn’t. The three raids had been successful in every way except one: They hadn’t found any of the five kidnapped women. Of course, the ten women who’d been freed from forced prostitution had sobbed with appreciation, but still, Ben had felt like a failure when he’d told Pedro that Maria wasn’t one of them.
Eighteen johns and twelve of H’s guards were now behind bars. Not a bad night’s work, but Ben hadn’t met his goal. So he had already planned more raids for Wednesday night.
When he reached his door, he glanced across at Amber’s apartment. What a shame she had refused to give him her phone number, because he would’ve called her earlier, knowing he’d be busy tonight.
Oh well, she hadn’t seemed very interested, and he certainly wasn’t looking for anything serious. But dammit, he liked her. A lot.
A flash of light between his building and the next caught his eye. Curious because of the late hour, Ben moved to the end of the landing to investigate but stayed out of sight in the shadows.
Standing at the array of mailboxes attached to the opposite wall, a man pointed a flashlight at each name and apartment number label in turn. Ben grinned.
Too drunk to remember which one’s yours? Besides, isn’t it kinda late to be picking up your
The vice cops were taking lead on the raid since prostitution was the obvious crime and the other violations were only possibilities. He didn’t like not being in charge, but sometimes, playing nice in the sandbox was required. He snorted softly. Seriously, what were the chances that all the people inside the building were here legally and voluntarily?
He rolled his shoulders, twisted his head from right to left, and arched his back to work out the kinks from crouching in the shadows for the past hour. Impatience simmered just below the surface.
Get on with it already.
As if hearing his silent plea, the top vice cop spoke in his ear. “Standby. On my mark.”
Thank God, it was time to move in. A minute later, the command to proceed came through loud and clear.
Seven armed men advanced on the whorehouse, which was actually a small commercial building, not a residence. Four headed for the front entrance while three circled around to the back. Each had been trained to know his role and what to expect from the others.
On the leader’s command, both doors were rammed open. Shouted orders and Spanish cursing competed to be heard over the music playing on a radio. Smoky haze stung Ben’s eyes. The stench of dirty bodies, stale booze, and old garbage filled his nostrils.
The four guards sat on the floor, smoking weed with some of the johns. Surprising the drug-impaired suspects, the agents and cops subdued them before they could even reach their weapons.
As designated on the blueprints he’d studied earlier, Ben raced down the hallway leading to the three offices that served as bedrooms. Assigned the closest one, he flung the door open and brandished his gun. “FBI! Freeze! Hands where I can see them.”
The woman screamed. The john sprang off the rollaway bed and launched himself at Ben. A quick sidestep and a blow to the back of the neck was all Ben needed to take down the half-naked man. With the john sprawled at his feet and whimpering, he shot a quick glance at the prostitute. His jaw clenched.
Poor woman.
She was completely naked and tied to the filthy bed. Wide-eyed and trembling, she babbled something Ben couldn’t understand. He exhaled.
She wasn’t Maria or any of the others.
Part of him was disappointed, but another part was really glad.
Chapter 6
Dead tired, Ben trudged up the stairs to his apartment at two a.m. Wednesday. He should be on an adrenaline high, but he wasn’t. The three raids had been successful in every way except one: They hadn’t found any of the five kidnapped women. Of course, the ten women who’d been freed from forced prostitution had sobbed with appreciation, but still, Ben had felt like a failure when he’d told Pedro that Maria wasn’t one of them.
Eighteen johns and twelve of H’s guards were now behind bars. Not a bad night’s work, but Ben hadn’t met his goal. So he had already planned more raids for Wednesday night.
When he reached his door, he glanced across at Amber’s apartment. What a shame she had refused to give him her phone number, because he would’ve called her earlier, knowing he’d be busy tonight.
Oh well, she hadn’t seemed very interested, and he certainly wasn’t looking for anything serious. But dammit, he liked her. A lot.
A flash of light between his building and the next caught his eye. Curious because of the late hour, Ben moved to the end of the landing to investigate but stayed out of sight in the shadows.
Standing at the array of mailboxes attached to the opposite wall, a man pointed a flashlight at each name and apartment number label in turn. Ben grinned.
Too drunk to remember which one’s yours? Besides, isn’t it kinda late to be picking up your
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