Page 64 of Taken from Her
"Weather conditions are optimal, and there’s minimal civilian traffic in the area," Agent Delacroix announced to the assembled team leaders. "The local hospital has been notified to expect potential victims requiring immediate medical attention."
Diana felt the familiar surge of command energy, her professional competence sharpening despite the fatigue that had accumulated through eighteen hours of operational preparation. Her team had trained for this moment, federal resources had aligned perfectly, and everything they'd built together was focused on this single coordinated action.
"Chief Marten"—Agent Jules Delacroix turned to her—"your department's community intelligence made this operation possible. Your officers know this area better than anyone. You're leading Alpha Team into the primary facility."
The recognition meant something, validation that their innovative approach had produced results that traditional methods couldn't have achieved. Diana nodded, checking her weapon and communication devices while her mind processed the tactical requirements ahead.
"Team leaders, final equipment check," Diana announced.
Angela approached, her tactical vest secured and her expression carrying the focused intensity Diana had come to rely on during high-stakes operations. "Alpha Team ready, Chief. Six entry points have been identified, and thermal imaging confirms there’s a civilian presence in the southeastern section."
"Bravo Team reports similar findings," Julia added, consulting her tablet. "Multiple people in different sections, some showing stress responses that suggest they may be held against their will."
Diana's chest tightened. After weeks of searching, they might finally be minutes away from bringing Tara, Isabel, and Joanna home. The faces that had haunted her investigation, the women whose disappearances had terrorized an entire community, could be inside these buildings right now, waiting for rescue that was finally arriving.
"All teams are synchronized," Agent Delacroix announced. "Operation commences in sixty seconds."
Diana positioned herself with Alpha Team's entry group. Around them, it seemed like everything held its breath.
"Thirty seconds," Delacroix announced.
Diana's mind flashed briefly to Lavender, safely in her houseboat while this operation unfolded. By dawn, the immediate threats would be neutralized, the missing women would be safe, and they could finally begin building the future they always wanted together. The woman who'd taught her that caring about people made her better at protecting them would finally see the full results of their collaborative approach.
"Ten seconds."
Diana checked her weapon one final time, conscious that the next few minutes would determine whether months of investigation and community fear would finally resolve into rescue and justice—or escalate into something far more dangerous.
"Execute."
The warehouse doors breached simultaneously across all four locations, tactical teams flooding through openings illuminated by flashbang grenades and coordinated lighting. through a space that immediately revealed the scope of what they were dismantling.
The facility was larger than surveillance had indicated. It was clearly a sophisticated logistical operation that had been running for months, possibly years. Computer workstationslined one wall, their screens displaying shipping schedules and transport routes that connected Phoenix Ridge to criminal networks spanning the entire West Coast. Maps covered another wall, marked with routes, safe houses, and operational timelines that showed systematic planning.
"Alpha Team, twelve people secured," Angela reported as tactical officers moved through the facility. "No weapons encountered; suspects offering no resistance."
Diana moved deeper into the warehouse, her training keeping her alert while her mind processed the magnitude of what they'd uncovered. This wasn't some random crime but organized exploitation on a scale that dwarfed anything Phoenix Ridge had ever seen before. Holding areas had been constructed with keen attention to concealment and control, spaces designed to process human beings like cargo.
The sight made her stomach clench. These were living spaces that had obviously housed people against their will. Sparse bedding was arranged in rows like bunkers, and there were basic sanitary facilities, restraint points mounted to walls, and storage areas filled with personal belongings that had been confiscated from victims. Everything pointed to systematic dehumanization that reduced people to inventory.
But there was evidence that people had been here recently. Food containers that were still warm suggested the network had been active until hours before their arrival. Diana couldn’t shake the feeling that someone had known to evacuate before the raids began.
"Chief Marten, over here," one of the tactical officers called from across the warehouse.
Diana followed the voice to a partitioned area that had been screened from the main facility. Inside, she found what they'd been searching for since the investigation began: three women huddled together on makeshift bedding, their faces etched withexhaustion and trauma of prolonged captivity but their eyes reflecting desperate hope at the sight of rescue.
Diana's breath caught as she recognized the faces from missing person reports, community bulletin boards, and Lavender's memorial corner. They were alive. Traumatized but breathing.
"Tara? Isabel? Joanna?" Diana asked, her voice gentle despite the situation.
The dark-haired woman—Tara, Diana realized—nodded slowly, her voice barely audible. "Are we...is this real? Are you really a cop?"
"You're safe," Diana confirmed, holstering her weapon and gesturing for the medical team to approach. "You're going home. EMTs are here to check you over, and then we're getting you to the hospital."
Relief flooded through Diana as she watched the three women react to the news of their rescue. Weeks of investigation, community fear, and sleepless nights had led to this moment. The faces that had haunted her dreams were finally safe from whatever nightmare they'd endured.
"How long have we been here?" Isabel asked, accepting a blanket from one of the EMTs. "I've lost track of time."
"Five weeks for you," Diana replied gently. "Six for Joanna, and seven for Tara. But you're safe now, and your families are waiting. Your community never stopped looking for you."
