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There it was again. The staccato beat of gunfire. The human traffickers were shooting it out with someone. Whether that was good or bad news, Segar and his fellow captives couldn’t say. One thing was certain—no one was keeping an eye on them. This would most likely be their best chance to escape.
Segar’s heart raced as he twisted and thrashed about. The cord cut into his sweat-slicked wrists, but he kept fighting. The spirits had put him in this place for a reason. He was here to save the day. The other captives were holding up well, although he doubted they would be much help. Franzen, the cop, had obviously gotten herself captured. Spenser was one of the new generation of social media celebrities, and Riv worked for Grizzly Grant, which spoke for itself.
“How did they get you?” Franzen asked. She was doing something behind her back, vigorously moving her arms. Segar wasn’t sure what she was up to.
“I was beating the crap out of one of these dirtbags when my ankle betrayed me,” he said. “And you?”
“I was out looking around. Somebody snuck up on me and bashed me in the head,” she said through gritted teeth.
“Were you trying to bring down these traffickers all by yourself?” Segar asked. “That’s not a job for one cop. You’re not an action hero.”
“I was looking for a way into the caverns, but I didn’t know there would be traffickers here. I was searching for clues. A friend of mine who went missing years ago. Some men brought in something of hers they’d found in the caverns.”
“Maddock and Bones,” Spenser said.
“You know them?”
“We do,” Spenser said. “And if we get out of this alive, they’re going to be very unhappy with us.”
Franzen appeared to be only halfway listening. “Human traffickers. How could they be operating here without us knowing?”
“Don’t feel bad. We knew there was danger and we walked right into it.” Spenser said. “And they took our friend, too.”
“That Rockwell fellow? We’ll get him. No one needs to worry. I’m going to work myself free.” Segar twisted and worked his wrists even harder.
“You’re going to hurt yourself, is what you’re going to do,” Riv said.
“I’ll be out in a minute. I know the trick.”
Riv raised her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah? What trick is that?”
“When they tied me up, I inflated my chest as much as I could. That way, when I breathe out, the ropes are looser.”
“How does that help with your wrists being tied?” Spenser asked.
Segar let out a long, impatient breath. “It all works together. It’s a Zen thing.”
“I’ll tell you what does work,” Franzen grunted. Like the others, her wrists were bound behind her back. She’d been working her arms vigorously for a few minutes. “A sharp edge and friction!” With a twist, her hands came free. She didn’t waste time removing the cords from her wrists, but immediately set to freeing the others.
“I don’t suppose any of you know the way out of here?” she asked as she untied Riv.
“I still have the map we were working from,” Spenser said. “If we can find our way to the place where they captured us.”
“Good.” Franzen untied Segar and helped him to his feet. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
“But what about all the captives? What about their friend?” Segar couldn’t believe an officer of the law would consider fleeing the scene and leaving innocents behind.
Another gunshot rang out somewhere in the darkness.
“I hate to say it, but I think she’s right,” Riv said. “They have guns. We don’t. Our best chance of helping them is to get out of here safely and find help.”
“But we have to try,” Segar protested.
“We’re going to take things as they come,” Franzen said. “If there’s an opportunity to safely free more victims, we will. At the very least I want to get the three of you out of here safely.”
Segar looked down at her and grinned sadly. “I appreciate you untying my wrists, but you don’t have to worry about things from here on out. I’ll take the lead.” Rolling up his sleeves, he turned, picked up the flashlight their captor had left behind, and led the way out of the chamber.
He limped along on his injured ankle, trying to mentally block out the pain. He was so focused on it that he turned the corner and walked right into one of the traffickers. Startled from his trance, Segar threw a right cross with all his might. It caught the surprised man clean on the jaw. His knees buckled and he flopped to the ground.
“Nice shot!” Spenser said. “Did you even know he was there?”
“The secret is to act, not to be. Or maybe it’s the other way around. It’s a line from one of my films.”
Meanwhile, Franzen had relieved the fallen trafficker of his pistol and was in the process of tying his wrists and ankles. Riv took the man’s belt knife.
“Are you trained to fight with a blade?” Segar asked.
“Does growing up in a really bad neighborhood count?”
“It’s a start. If you need any pointers, let me know.” He winked. “Pun intended.”
Riv mumbled something that sounded like, “Goddess give me strength,” and turned away.
While Franzen searched the man’s pockets, Segar peered around the next corner. Up ahead lay a large cavern. Weak, battery powered lanterns cast the space in jaundiced yellow light. Segar gasped. The room was filled with captives. A single guard stood with his back to Segar.
Big mistake, compadre!
Segar took off like a sprinter from the starting blocks. Slowed by his injured ankle, he didn’t quite get there before the guard whirled around and reached for his weapon.
Segar bowled him over. They landed in a heap and began to struggle for the gun. Segar quickly found himself at a disadvantage. His opponent forced him onto his back and struggled to bring his weapon to bear. He seized the man’s wrist in both hands, trying to keep the pistol at bay. This freed up the attacker’s other hand for punching. He managed to land a few before someone grabbed the man from behind and drew a knife across his throat. Segar covered his face but didn’t quite avoid the blood.
Riv dragged the trafficker’s still-twitching body off him and helped him to his feet. Segar gave a nod of thanks, then turned to look around.
The captives were nearly all young women, mostly teenagers and early twenties, but a few who looked close to Spenser’s age. All were cuffed with zip ties. The chains of their ankle shackles were looped around one heavy chain that was anchored to the rock wall on one end. The other was secured to an iron ring with a massive lock.
One boy about twelve years old looked up at him. His eyes went wide and he gasped.
“Steven Segar!” he exclaimed.
The captives began speaking all at once. Mostly in Spanish, but a few in English.
“Please help us,” one young woman said in heavily accented English.
“That’s what I’m here for,” he assured her.
Riv began barking orders in Spanish and everyone quieted down. Franzen dug a key ring out of the fallen guard’s pocket and began searching for the one that would open the lock that held the captives.
“Set them free,” he ordered.
Franzen turned a frown in his direction. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
He turned to look for the guard’s weapon, but Spenser had already claimed it.
“You should probably give me that,” he said.
Her big blue eyes flitted toward Franzen, who gave a tiny shake of the head.
“I can’t defend myself hand-to-hand like you can,” Spenser said.
“That is true. You may keep the weapon.”
“Thank you.” As he watched, she ejected the magazine, counted the remaining bullets, popped it back into place, and chambered a round.
“Don’t forget the safety,” Segar reminded her.
“Thanks!” Her smile did not reach her eyes. Must be nervous.
Franzen had unlocked the chain and was now working to unlock the individual shackles, while Riv was carefully cutting the zip ties that bound their wrists.
“Are there more captives?” Segar asked the young man who had recognized him moments before.
“Many more,” the youth said. “Are you going to set them free, too?”
Segar smiled and nodded. “That I am, my young friend.”