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Spenser and the others were already gone when Maddock reached the chamber. The place was empty, save for one man. He was built like a tree stump, with powerful arms, a shaved head, and no neck to speak of. He was standing with his hands on his hips, turning slowly around as if he had never seen its like.
“Where the hell did they go?” he said to himself.
Maddock crept up behind him and waited for him to turn around. Their eyes met. The man had a moment of confusion, which turned to agony when Maddock kicked him in the groin. He let out a throaty grunt and collapsed like soft butter. Maddock pressed his pistol to the man’s temple.
“Where are they?”
“I don’t know, man. They were supposed to be here. Them and the police lady.” He began to babble. “Everything was cool. We were going to leave in the morning. And all these random-ass people start showing up. Attacking us from outside and inside. Who are you?”
“The guy who’s already squeezing the trigger unless you make yourself useful.”
“I know they didn’t head toward the main cavern. I just came from there and I didn’t see anybody.”
“Where do I go next? And I’ll know if you lie.” That itself was a lie, but Maddock thought this blubbering coward would believe it. Perhaps a life of bullying the weak made a man soft.
The man sputtered out hasty instructions along with a generous spray of saliva.
“What happens to the people you transport?”
“I don’t know, man. I’m just a middleman, bro. I get the illegals into the country without the Feds catching them. Whatever business arrangements they make after that, you can’t put that on me.”
The mental list of punishments that were too good for this man was too lengthy for Maddock to peruse. Instead, he settled for confiscating the man’s pistol. He had no use for three, so he popped out the magazine, cleared the chamber, and tossed the weapon away.
“Get up. You’re going to lead the way,” he said.
“Okay, okay. I’ll help you find them, I promise.” Big baldy climbed to his feet. “Like I said, it’s back the way you came.”
He took two steps and then dashed out of the cavern at a dead sprint, where he ran into Bones and Grizzly.
The results were predictable.
“I’m in here,” Maddock called.
Bones and Grizzly came running in. Grizzly scanned the empty chamber with panic-filled eyes.
“Where are they? Where’s Riv?”
“Relax. He told me which way they went. Come on.”
They dashed out of the cavern, careful not to trip over the body of the fallen trafficker. They followed his directions until they stumbled into a cavern where a large group of confused-looking young women sat huddled in a tight circle. They were not restrained, but a heavy chain and a large pile of loose shackles lay nearby. Someone had set them free.
They all began talking at once. Maddock understood enough of what they were saying to understand that a man and three women had passed through here. That must be Spenser, Riv, Rockwell, and the police officer. The captives pointed in the direction in which the quartet had gone.
Maddock thanked them and ordered them to stay put. He took off at a fast jog, the best he could manage in his state. Up ahead, shots rang out and he heard a woman scream.
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Something was happening at the mouth of the cavern. Through his binoculars, Gold could see movement in the darkness but not much else. At least twice as many figures as before scurried around behind their defensive position.
“Perfect timing.” He put down the binoculars and looked around at his team. Everyone was in position. He picked up the flare gun and leveled it at the bunker. Ace, next to Gold the most experienced of the group, had the other. “If this works, be ready for those dirtbags to come buzzing out of there like a swarm of hornets.”
“Do it, Pops,” Platt replied.
Gold counted it down.
“Three... two... one....”
They fired in unison. The flares soared into the darkness, lighting up the desert floor. Both found their marks. The cavern mouth lit up like the Fourth of July. The traffickers scattered. Some fled back into the cavern, but most came spilling out.
Gold and his team opened fire. For a moment Gold thought his men had wiped them out with the first salvo, but then voices began to call out.
“No mas!”
“We give up!”
Gold turned to the camera. “With apologies to John Denver, that, my friends, is what I call a sweet surrender.” He turned and addressed the traffickers. “Everybody lay face down and put your hands behind your backs.” Platt translated into Spanish. “If anyone reaches for a weapon, we shoot!”
They quickly disarmed the traffickers, bound them, and set a few men to guard them.
“All right,” Gold said. “Let’s run them to ground.” With a quick glance to make sure the camera was still rolling, he raised his rifle high. “Charge!”