Page 47 of Rusty's Command

Rusty pulled Sienna to a stop, and they ducked down next to the railing to scan the area below. The dim light was punctuated by the guards’ flashlights casting eerie shadows up the walls. The six women were being herded onto the stage again, andeven in the scattered lights, their pale faces and trembling bodies showed how fragile they were.

Rusty counted five armed guards surrounding the women, and two more positioned beyond the stage. But that was just the ones he could see.

Where the hell was Wang?

Ah, there. Near the dead monitors, Wang’s face glowed an eerie blue in the light of his phone, his features twisted into a snarl as he barked into the receiver. If Rusty had a sniper rifle, he would put a bullet through that bastard’s gut right now, no hesitation. Not a kill shot, but one designed to make him hurt like hell.

Who was Wang calling? More men? More guns?

The thought chilled Rusty’s blood. They were already outgunned and outnumbered. The last thing they needed was reinforcements showing up.

His eyes searched desperately for exit signs in the darkness but found none. The emergency lights should be on. That’s odd.

“What do we do?” Sienna whispered, gripping the railings like prison bars as she stared at the scene below.

“Find a way out of here.” Rusty’s mind raced through escape scenarios, each one worse than the last.

Sienna’s fingers dug into his arm. “What? We can’t just abandon them. We have to help those women.”

Rusty’s temper flared, hot and angry. “I’m not abandoning them, Sienna. I’m getting help for them. We need to get out of here and bring Charlie Team in to finish this. I can’t see any exits. Can you?”

Her gaze swept the shadows. “No.”

“Did you mean to cut all power?”

She shot him a look. “I didn’t exactly have time to read the manual on that kill switch.”

“But is that normal . . . to kill everything?”

She hesitated. “Depends on the security setup. Although trapping everyone inside seems dangerous.”

“Don’t think worker safety made their priority list. Bastards.”

“You should’ve seen the men on the monitors.” Her voice hardened. “Creeps.”

Rusty’s head snapped toward her. “You saw their faces?”

“Yeah. Six of them.” Sienna’s voice trembled with disgust. “Clear as day. High-def feeds, all being backed up to those servers. And full audio. The setup was professional—motion tracking and facial recognition running in real-time. Wang wasn’t just recording, he was cataloging everything. Names, dates, timestamps, IP addresses.”

“Shit.” His jaw clenched. “So they weren’t even trying to hide who they were?”

“They didn’t know.” She glanced at him. “That system was running in stealth mode. Hidden processes, encrypted storage. These guys probably thought they were bidding in a private club. But Wang was building files on every single one of them. Including payment records.”

“Shit! He’s getting leverage.” Rusty’s mouth twisted in disgust. “Sounds like he’s stockpiling blackmail on someverypowerful men.”

“One of them was Dr. Howard Whitney Williams,” Sienna said, her voice hardening. “The pastor from that megachurch in?—”

“Fuck me.” Rusty’s breath hitched.

“What?”

“That’s Sarah’s husband. Grace’s father.” He gestured toward the women below.

“Jesus.” Sienna gripped the railing, her knuckles white as she studied the women in the room. “Herown fatherwas bidding?”

“Sick bastard.” Rusty’s jaw clenched, his teeth grinding. The image of Sarah Williams at the police station flashed through hismind—her trembling hands clutching her phone, showing him a photo of Grace while begging for help.

“That’s beyond sick.” The horror in Sienna’s voice mirrored the storm raging in his head.

---