“That’s the problem. He moves constantly. But we think his main operation is somewhere in the Norfolk area. There’s a warehouse registered under a shell company supposedly importing medical equipment. The FBI’s been watching it, but they haven’t been able to get enough for a warrant.”
“They won’t need one.”
“Brendan—”
“I’m not asking permission, Ray. I’m doing this with or without support.”
A long pause.
“Command knows. Sharon called an emergency meeting. She’s authorizing a DEVGRU operation. Tom, Saul, and I are wheels up in two hours. Officially, this is a training exercise in cooperation with FBI cybercrimes. Unofficially, we’re bringing your girl home safe and putting these bastards in the ground.”
“I’m coming.”
“I know. Sharon said to tell you that if you go rogue, she’ll have you court-martialed. But if you happen to show up at the staging area as a civilian consultant with unique knowledge of the target… well, that’s different.”
Brendan felt something loosen in his chest. He wasn’t alone in this.
“Staging area?”
“The old aircraft hangar at Dam Neck. Two hours. And Brendan—bring your gear. The nasty stuff.”
After hanging up, Brendan opened his weapons safe. He had accumulated quite a collection over seventeen years. Some of it was standard issue. Some of it had come through less official channels. Tonight, he selected carefully: a suppressed HK416 rifle, his Glock 19 with custom sights, a KA-BAR knife that had seen action in three countries, and, because he anticipated close-quarters combat, a Benelli M4 shotgun.
He was loading magazines when his computer chimed.
The auction page had updated.
The bid was now at $3.1 million.
And there was a new message from the seller—from Sylvia.
Seller note: Buyer should know target is currently secured off-site due to father’s heightened awareness. Delivery will be completed as scheduled. Father is SEAL-trained but currently unaware of full scope. Payment secures guarantee of delivery within 24 hours of auction close.
So Sylvia thought Emma was still at the house. She didn’t know about Moren. Which meant when someone came to collect Emma, they would find an empty house and a very, very angry father waiting.
Brendan smiled.
It wasn’t a nice smile.
The staging area was alive with controlled chaos when Brendan arrived. Raymond, Tom, Saul, and four other operators Brendan recognized from various deployments were checking gear while Sharon Holt stood at a makeshift command station coordinating with what looked like FBI cyber specialists.
“Castro,” Sharon said, her voice crisp and professional. “You’re here as a civilian consultant, which means you follow orders. Clear?”
“Crystal, ma’am.”
“Good, because we’ve got movement.”
She gestured to a monitor showing surveillance footage.
“Twenty minutes ago, two vehicles approached your house. Four men total. They attempted entry through the back door. When they found the house empty, they left. But here’s what’s interesting. We tracked them to this location.”
The screen shifted to an aerial view of a warehouse complex near the Norfolk port.
“Kurt Stanton owns this through a shell company. We’ve been monitoring it for three months, but couldn’t establish probable cause. However, thirty minutes ago, our thermal imaging picked up significant activity. At least twelve people inside, possibly more in the sublevel.”
Brendan leaned closer.
“The building has an underground section that doesn’t appear on the original blueprints,” one of the specialists said. “We think that’s where they’re holding the children.”
Brendan’s hands curled into fists. “How many kids?”
“Unknown. But based on the previous auctions, possibly all seventeen. They may be using this as a collection point before transport.”
Tom stepped up beside him, built like a tank, a scar running down his jaw from a knife fight in Yemen.
“We’re going in hard and fast,” he said. “Three-vehicle approach. Full tactical gear. FBI has authorized deadly force against anyone who resists.”
“What about my sister-in-law?” Brendan asked, his voice cold.
Sharon met his eyes. “Sylvia Castro is currently at her residence. FBI agents are moving to arrest her now for conspiracy to commit human trafficking. Your brother is cooperating. Apparently he found evidence on her computer and turned it over voluntarily.”
At least Adrien had made the right choice in the end. It didn’t excuse his earlier blindness, but it was something.
“Gear up,” Saul said, tossing Brendan a tactical vest. “We move in thirty minutes.”
As Brendan checked his weapons one final time, Raymond pulled him aside.
“Listen, man. I know what you’re feeling, but we need you focused. This isn’t about revenge. It’s about getting those kids out safe.”
“I know.”
“Do you? Because the look in your eyes right now… I’ve seen it before. Right before you did that thing in Fallujah we’re not supposed to talk about.”
Brendan met his friend’s eyes.
“Those kids have been in there for days, weeks, some of them for months. They’re terrified, traumatized, and the men who did this are still breathing. That’s not right, Ray. That’s not justice.”
“So we arrest them. We put them through the system.”
