Page 51 of Stripped

Chapter 25

The dog's breath was warm on his hand, his hackles raised in anticipation. Wraith was crouched down, gun pulled, as he guarded Sinclair while he picked the lock on the front door. He could have just kicked it in, but it would announce their arrival to anyone inside and they needed the element of surprise. The door opened, and Sinclair motioned with his head to proceed. Wraith stood and followed the other agent in, along with William. Sinclair paused before opening a door on the right of the hallway and looked around it while Wraith darted to the other side, covering from behind. The room was empty. They went to the next door in the hallway, finding it locked. They wouldn't have time to pick this lock, so Sinclair glanced at Wraith before kicking it.

A group of young girls, five in total, sat huddled in a corner, their faces etched in shock. Wraith put his finger to his lips, warning them to be quiet. Footsteps could be heard overhead. They backed out and continued down the hall. The last door was open. A man stood in the room with a knife to a young girl's throat. "YA ubivayu yeye," he shouted. I'll kill her.

Sinclair took the shot before the fat fuck even had time to think. He fell to the ground, blood spreading across his forehead, still clutching the young girl as he pulled her down with him. Sinclair rushed to her side.

William stood at the doorway whining, as he looked toward the stairwell. "Follow William. He's got her scent. I'll take care of whoever is above us and stay with the girls."

Wraith followed William up a staircase to the next floor. Footsteps could be heard coming down the hallway. He pressed himself up against the wall and waited until a man ran past. Aiming, he shot him. The man hit the top of the stairs and tumbled down. William continued to whine, and they hurried up two more flights to the fourth floor, leading to a small foyer with an elevator and a door. The elevator was in use, heading down. William scratched at the door, barking. Wraith opened it. Pim lay naked on the ground, curled in a ball on her side. He ran to her, scanning the room at the same time. Another girl lay lifeless, in a pool of blood.

"Primrose," he said, shaking her gently. "Primrose. Dear God, what did they do to you?" Massive bruises covered her stomach.

Her eyes blinked opened then popped wide. "Watch out!" It was too late. A man came up behind him and kicked him on his side. His breath left him, and he saw spots for a moment. He managed to stand as he turned and pulled his gun. The man was prepared and kicked it from his hand as it clattered to the ground. Wraith grabbed his knife from his belt. The man stood ready; he also had a knife in hand. Wraith tightened his stance, holding his blade pointed at the man, his free hand held vertically, to protect his already injured chest and ribs. The man advanced, and Wraith stepped forward at a forty-five degree angle, meeting him. He swung, catching the man in the chest as he cut down with his knife. Wraith felt the blade slice his deltoid. Pim screamed. The man looked away, attention diverted. Wraith took advantage of the distraction and charged him, grabbing him by the shirt while he sliced either side of his throat. He fell to the ground as blood drained from his neck.

Pim sat on her feet, the gun shaking in her hands. Wraith went to her and removed it. "I was going to shoot," she said, her voice shaking. "I was going to kill him."

"Primrose." He held her to him, as the fear of losing her set in. "Hey, I've got you, baby. You're safe."

Sinclair bounded into the room. "Everything okay?" he asked, looking around. William ran to his side.

Wraith removed his sweatshirt, covering Pim with it, hiding her body from Sinclair's view. "She's injured." His breathing was becoming ragged, the pain in his ribcage where he was kicked intensifying.

"So are you," Sinclair said. "You're bleeding."

He touched his arm where the knife cut him. "I'll be fine." Sinclair came over and looked. "It's deep." He tore the ruined sleeve off Wraith's shirt and wrapped it around the wound, tying it tight.

Wraith began to cough. He wiped his hand across his mouth, discovering blood.

"We need to call an ambulance and the police," Pim begged.

"I'll handle it," Sinclair said, tilting Pim's chin up. "He can't go to A&E. I'll stay here with the girls. If I give you an address, can you drive him there? It will take a couple of hours."

* * *

She was numb. Everything she had seen and experienced seemed far away. The only thing keeping her present, was Wraith. She pulled his sweatshirt over her head, the rent in the sleeve still wet with blood, and followed Sinclair into the elevator and down as he helped Wraith out the back door to the car. "What will happen to the girls?" she asked.

"I'll get in contact with the proper authorities and make sure they're taken care of," Sinclair assured her.

"There were more. They've been sold to men. The girl who died, her sister was taken." She could feel the panic in her rising as she spoke. She pushed it down, better if she didn't talk about what happened.

"We're already on it. I promise I'll do everything in my power for them." He assisted Wraith into the passenger seat and came around to see Pim settled.

She moved the seat forward and turned on the car. Sinclair leaned in and pressed a button on the console. "Call Gabriel," he said.

Pim recognized the voice that answered. "Wraith?"

"No, it's Sin. Wraith is down, he's in the passenger seat, probably the lung again. The captive has been rescued. She is driving him to you."

"What was the outcome?"

"Three tangos killed. One innocent victim, female child, DOA. Six female children survivors. The place is secured. Waiting for backup."

"Dear God. Children?"

"Yes."

"I've got to go. Send the address to Wraith's car."

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