Page 113 of Fighting With Light
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The air is thinner at this elevation, and our mission feels tenuous. The forest is dense, the terrain is rocky as we trudge through the mountains, and I swear every step we take feels like an elephant walking. We still have another mile to go and all has been quiet. We’ve gone totally dark, not using flashlights anymore since we’re getting closer. Aelia has kept up without issue, and I want to check on her, but something tells me I’d more likely get a fist to the face. Emerson pissed her off. His question was valid because he doesn’t know her. Regardless, I know she’s still steaming. Hopefully, she gets over it because her lack of focus could cost her life.
I’m pulling up the rear and checking behind me, letting the others walk a few steps. I stop, listen, and watch for threats.
Catching up with the rest of them, I come up behind Aelia, and she lifts her foot, not seeing the bear trap where she’ll step, and I grab the back of her pants, suspending her in the air for a second before yanking her back into my chest. “Hey, what—” I cover her mouth with my other hand, and she rests her head back on my shoulder.
“You were about to step in that bear trap,” I whisper into her ear and then point to the trap, still holding her body against me. She lifts her head, looking down. I glance up to find Emerson and Kai looking over their shoulders, waiting for us. “Follow my brothers step for step, okay?”
She nods and we catch up to them.
As we inch closer to the encampment, the lights get brighter. Emerson holds up his fist, stopping us, and we gather next to him.
“According to your pictures, we need to move farther south to where we think the shipping containers are. Take pictures of everything and use the call to signal if we need to retreat and meet up at the rendezvous point.”
We all split up, heading for our planned spots to watch and take pictures. We don’t want to be here for any longer than an hour, afraid it will draw attention to ourselves. In and out, quietly, is the goal. We’re here to gather information, that’s all.
Emerson and Kai go in their direction, and Aelia and I in ours. We head north towards the roads where trucks go in and out and where we saw pictures of tents set up. I pause every few steps to wait and listen. It was nearly impossible to see if there was a patrol around the outskirts of the camp. I’m leaning towards no because if this cartel has such a foothold in his city and surrounding area, my assumption is that most wouldn’t come anywhere close simply for fear of death.
Aelia comes up behind me. “I don’t think there are guards out here, just the close perimeter,” she whispers. I nod and keep going little by little, looking for anything that isn’t a tree or maybe even a cute woodland creature. We get to our designated spot and find a fallen tree to hide behind.
While we observe the area, men pass back and forth between buildings and tents. The operation seems to be pretty tight. It looks like they work off of generators. There are pit toilets and rainwater showers off to the side. Various sizes of trucks line the road, leaving the compound. A few armed men we see walk past us every few minutes, but other than that, there is no overt cocaine cooking that can be seen at the moment. In other words, none of this is useful to us. At best, it looks like some random Colombian men doing something in the jungle. So we wait.
Time ticks by slowly, the minutes feel like hours, and I’m starting to lose hope that this is related to our fathers at all. My mind spirals as I try to think of other potential connections, then Aelia grabs my forearm and squeezes. I look at her, and she tilts her head in a different direction.
There’s a man dragging a small woman, possibly a teenager, by her hair. She’s screaming and trying to fight him off, but he’s too strong for her. My heart leaps in my chest and my muscles burn with the need to go help her, but I would only expose us. There’s no way the four of us could take the whole camp. I expected women to be here to package things. It’s a common practice, and unfortunately, my assumption was right.
I glance at Aelia and there are tears in her eyes. Her nails dig into my skin, and I let her draw blood. It strikes something deep in both of us to see someone treated like they are trash. Aelia puffs out a breath when the girl disappears from sight and releases my arm. I glance down, and little half-moon impressions are dug into my arm, with blood welling in the indentations. She grabs the edge of her t-shirt and presses it on my arm. I don’t care that she drew blood. I care more that tears are streaming down her face.
A truck drives by, and I look up from my arm and freeze, watching it go by. It’s a large pickup truck with a flatbed on the back and a wooden shipping container strapped down to it with a US Embassy symbol painted on it. I grab my phone to video it and take pictures. Thank God. I believe we just found our smoking gun.
The truck steers towards the only road that leads to the small compound and disappears from sight.
“That’s what we needed, isn’t it?” Aelia says quietly.
I nod and hear the owl call the signal. Unless you are familiar with birds, no one would notice, but the long-eared owl is not this far south. Our hour isn’t up yet, so something is going on.
“We need to go.”
Aelia nods and leads the way back to our meet-up point. Kai and Emerson beat us to the spot. Emerson has his map out, and he’s pointing to something on it in the dim light. He nods and whispers something else in Kai’s ear.
“Why did you call us?” I ask.
Emerson looks at Kai, and I brace myself.
Something changed.
“We got what we needed. It looks like they are shipping cocaine in US Embassy containers, which areprotectedby US Border Patrol. That’s how they are getting it across,” I tell them.
“Yeah, there are a lot more containers on the other end. And it looks like a holding site for trafficking women and children. Those larger tents are holding them there,” Kai says.
“Liam, we have to—” Aelia cuts her words off and faces my brother. “We need to help them.”
“I know. We’re trying to figure out how to do that and not send them running into the mountains to die,” Emerson says.
“Do you know how many there are?” I ask them.
“We counted at least six women and three children,” Kai says.
