Page 5 of Playboy

Tristan, their team lead, gathered the team in a tight circle. His voice was low and steady.

“Alright, this is how it’s going down,” he began, his eyes scanning each member of the team. “The yacht is about six miles east of us, drifting. There are at least two dozen men on board, including the owner, who’s as twisted as they come. We’resplitting into two teams,” he said, going through each team member's role. He looked at Gabby, “Gabby, you and Oliver are going below deck and taking the three lower cabins. If either of you run into trouble, use your voice.”

Gabby nodded, her jaw tight.

Tristan continued, “We’ll have two boats moving in fast, supported by the chopper overhead. Once we secure the yacht, the cutter will follow up to bring the situation under control and let the other agency folks do their thing. Speed is vital, and we have to assume these guys could be armed and won’t go down without a fight. Everyone good?”

A chorus of affirmations echoed in the night. Everyone exchanged grim looks, their disgust for the men on board that yacht visible.

“Men like those aboard that yacht are sick bastards,” Leo muttered, shaking his head. “Makes my skin crawl just thinking about what we’re going to find.”

Tristan gave Gabby a quick glance, his expression serious. “Stay sharp down there, Gabby.”

A flash of tension tightened in Gabby’s chest, but she forced it down. “Got it.”

The crackle of the radio suddenly broke the tense silence. Gabby’s heart rate quickened as she waited to hear the pilot’s voice through the static.

“We’ve got a visual on the target vessel,” the pilot said before passing on the coordinates of its location.

Gabby exchanged a knowing look with her teammates. It was showtime.

The team split into two groups and climbed into their assigned SPC BTD II boats, a new vessel explicitly developed for the Coast Guard’s MSRT. The boats are constructed to specifications similar to what the Navy SEALs use but with modifications done for MSRT purposes.

Tristan gave everyone a tight smile. “Remember, our priority is the safety of those being held against their will as well as our own. Watch each other’s backs and be safe in there.”

As the boat’s engines rumbled to life, Gabby gripped the railing as they sped through the night. Moments later, a silhouette of the yacht target appeared on the horizon.

Shit!That thing had to be one of the biggest yachts she’d seen.

The boat’s engines roared as it closed the distance. The team, clad in dark tactical gear, assembled near the railing, their faces set with determination. Gabby was among them, her heart pounding in her chest. It was moments like this that she lived for.

Suddenly, the helicopter overhead shined its spotlight on the yacht, lighting up the area. As Gabby’s boat pulled alongside the ship, Leo threw grappling hooks onto the deck above, securing their lines. One by one, Leo, Adrian, and Oliver scaled the vessel’s side, moving quickly and silently. Gabby followed behind Oliver, her muscles burning, but she pushed through, her focus unwavering.

The moment Gabby’s boots hit the deck’s surface, all hell broke loose. There were men in suits and half-naked women running around, shrieking, and stumbling over one another in their haste to either escape being caught or seek refuge.

“Go!” Leo barked as they split. Gabby and Oliver darted toward the stairs leading to the lower levels.

Gabby’s focus sharpened. She led the way, taking the stairs two at a time. The narrow corridor at the bottom was dimly lit, and the air was thick with the scent of stale perfume and sweat. With their weapons raised and senses heightened, they moved cautiously, their training guiding their every move.

They cleared the first two rooms, which were empty except for bottles of half-drunk liquor, boxes of condoms, and disheveled sheets.

They moved to the next room and found the door unlocked. Gabby entered first. Her heart lurched at the sight. An unconscious young woman was tied to the bed with a thick rope. Her wrists were bruised and raw like she had been trying to get out of the binding. Oliver walked over and felt for a pulse.

“She’s alive,” he told Gabby before he radioed in so the EMTs would know where to respond.

Oliver left the woman and met Gabby by the door.

“Let’s clear the last room.”

Gabby nodded at him. Her throat was tight with emotion that she couldn’t afford to feel right now. She needed to focus on clearing that last room.

They approached the door at the end of the hallway. Trying the knob, she found it was locked.

A low, broken cry echoed from behind the door, mingling with the moaning of a man. Gabby’s stomach turned. She and Oliver exchanged a glance. They both knew what was happening inside. The sound of the woman’s sobs only caused Gabby’s grip to tighten on her rifle.

Oliver signaled with his hand for her to move aside. With one swift motion, he kicked the door in.

The scene inside was as horrific as they’d feared. A half-naked man was on top of a woman, pinning her down as she struggled weakly beneath him. Gabby surged forward, rifle raised, her voice like steel.

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