“We’ll get you there, but we have some questions for you first. Please, have a seat.” Agent Turow held out a chair for her.
Darcy started at the beginning, relaying everything she, Gage, Landon, and Jake had learned or speculated.
“Russia has to be the final drop spot,” Agent Turow said to Agent Jackson.
“More likely it’s the funnel,” Agent Jackson replied.
“Funnel?” Darcy asked.
“Kind of like the middleman in business. The product . . .” Agent Jackson cleared his throat. “Forgive the crudity of my words, I’m just trying to explain it as the men involved see it and how the business—vulgar and evil as it is—runs.”
Darcy nodded. “I understand.”
“So the product is brought to Russia either directly or via holding locations, like this one. They smuggle the women in, process them through the host house, and then use them locally or sell them throughout Europe and Asia to the highest bidder.”
“It’s the reverse of how the sex-slave trade typically works,” Gage said. “Instead of smuggling women into the U.S., they are smuggling them out.”
Agent Turow nodded. “In much smaller numbers, but it makes the practice no less evil.”
The depths of Abby’s story were far deeper and uglier than Darcy ever imagined when she’d first answered her friend’s plea for help.
“The FBI has been tracking the Bratva in Moscow for years, focusing on its American interests,” Agent Turow said.
Darcy’s brow furrowed. “American interests?”
“This trade network across American borders.”
“I’ll call our attaché office in Moscow, pass this information along to them,” Agent Jackson said, standing and excusing himself.
“What about Trent and the rest of his network?” Darcy asked. “Is there any chance of finding Clint and George?”
“Don’t worry. We’ll get them,” Agent Turow assured her.
Landon’s phone dinged. “Finally.” He clicked on the attachment and shook his head.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Darcy asked.
“Looks like we’ve already met Kyle Trent.” He turned the phone to face them all. It was the runner Jake had chased down. The man in charge of the entire operation was sitting bound in the next room. No wonder no one was talking.
Darcy smiled. “Gotcha.”
45
When they finally arrived back in Dutch Harbor, Darcy entered Abby’s hospital room, glad to see her friend’s pale cheeks had regained some color as the IV fluids and medication flushed the drugs from her system.
Abby lurched forward, vomiting into the pan the medic held. Perspiration dotted her brow.
A nurse dabbed her forehead with a cool, damp cloth. “Let it out. You’ll feel better, honey.”
Abby looked up at Darcy, utter gratefulness etched on her damp brow. “How did you find me?”
Darcy explained between Abby’s vomiting bouts.
Finally Abby sat back, spent but so much more alert. The nurse wiped her brow with a fresh cloth and offered her mouth rinse, which Abby gladly took.
When the nurse and medic stepped out, Darcy moved to sit at Abby’s side.
Abby clasped her hand. “I owe you my life. Seriously. When Jeremy threw me overboard, I thought I was dead. Then I was pulled from the water and I thought I’d been rescued, only to find it was him.” She went on to explain how they’d held her on the boat until another arrived and then how they’d transferred her and Jeremy had been shot.
Darcy held Abby as she trembled. “That must have been terrifying.”
“I was too scared to fight after that.” She swallowed. “They brought me to that house, and then . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut, crying.
“You don’t have to,” Darcy said. “It’s okay.”
Gage paced periodically by the door, trying to be sure she was okay while still allowing them some privacy.
Abby sniffed, swiping the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. “I’m so thankful you came when you did. I’m pretty sure they were getting ready to move me . . . to Russia, I think. At least initially, from what I could gather.” Abby shook her head. “I’m so sorry I pulled you into this. If anything had happened to you . . .” Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“But it didn’t. God protected me and led me to you.”
The next couple days were spent briefing the FBI agents while Abby and the two other women were treated. Abby was the only American woman who had been found, though during her short time in captivity, she’d learned others had passed through—no doubt including Jessica Matthews and Christine Bowen.
Clint’s and George’s bodies were discovered in the wilderness not far from Dutch Harbor’s ferry station—both shot in the head. Kyle Trent remained in FBI custody along with Theodora Mullins—who, in an effort to save her hide, offered to cooperate and was providing vital information on Trent’s network. Ted had been questioned, but since he had not played a direct role and there was no hard evidence tying him to the ring, chances were he’d walk.
On the morning of Abby’s third day in the hospital, though she was weak, the doctors were satisfied with her progress and had approved her release. While Gage and Jake arranged for their flight to Anchorage, everyone had joined Darcy and Abby as they waited for her final release paperwork to arrive.
In the midst of a cleansing bout of group laughter, Special Agent Stan Jackson rapped on the waiting room door.
Landon stood up. “News?”
“We’ve talked with the FBI legal attaché office staff at the U.S. embassy in Moscow, and they say that the Bratva, the Russian mafia translated as the Brotherhood, are the major Russian players in the sex-slave trade. They are a huge funneling market for bringing women into Europe and Asia, as well as smuggling sex slaves into the U.S. Working in conjunction with local authorities, they know of several Bratva houses in Moscow and the surrounding area.”
“Houses?” Darcy asked.
“They are a combination brothel and processing center,” Stan explained. “The women are brought in, and those they feel they can sell for a good profit, they arrange to sell to the highest bidder. The embassy had heard the occasional rumor of an American victim being in Russia, but they’ve never had any proof. They believe if American women are enslaved, they are sold very quickly to other countries for an obscene price.”
“So that’s where they were going to take Abby?” Darcy gripped Abby’s hand, fear and disgust tracking through her.
“Most likely.”
“I’ve passed along all the information we’ve gathered on this end to the FBI attaché. Hopefully, it’ll be of help on that end.”
It was too horrific. They’d saved Abby and two other women, but she shuddered to think of all the women still enslaved.
“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Stan said. “We’ll stay on this, and we’ll keep you in the loop, Deputy Grainger.”
Landon shook the man’s hand. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”
“Thank you, all of you, for your help.” Stan looked around the room. “I realize by getting Trent and his gang, we may have only caused a small dent in Bratva’s trafficking organization, but we cut out one of their major American suppliers. It’s a great day for the good guys.”
Darcy settled in beside Gage for the flight—content to simply spend the journey wrapped in his sheltering arms.
Abby was traveling with them as far as Anchorage, and then she would be taking a flight back to California from there. Piper sat beside her, the two deep in conversation.
Gage threaded his fingers through hers. “You doing okay?”
She nodded. “I’ll be fine. Do you think she will?” She lifted her chin in Abby’s direction.
“I pray so.”
Darcy clutched his hand tighter. “Me too. Maybe this experience, all she’s been through, will make her more receptive to talking about God.”
He smiled. “I think Piper’s already on it.”
She looked
back over to find Piper with her Bible in hand and Abby glancing at the pages as Piper spoke.
Please, Father. Let this horrific experience draw her to you. Let it draw us all closer to you.
46
Securing a flight from Anchorage to Kodiak and then taking the ferry into Yancey took the better part of the day.
Abby caught her flight home from Anchorage, promising to stay in touch. Darcy prayed God would use the ordeal to strengthen their friendship and to allow deeper conversations with Abby about the God who loved her.
Bailey and Cole were waiting to greet them at the ferry station when they finally arrived in Yancey. One look at their welcoming faces and Darcy felt genuinely at home.
They quickly retreated to Piper and Kayden’s place and enjoyed a typical McKenna meal filled with love and laughter, and then ended up in the family room chatting over coffee and dessert—amazing individual chocolate soufflés Bailey had spent the afternoon making.
“So is the FBI finding a case against Trent?” Cole asked.
“Yes. They are going through all his financials, business records, business associates, every employee he ever hired,” Landon said. “And I don’t know about you”—he looked at Jake—“but I think Stan and Will are more than up to the task.”
Jake smiled. The swelling in his jaw had diminished nicely. “I agree.”
It was weird seeing everyone’s shift in attitude toward Jake, subtle as it was. With the exception of Kayden, they’d all accepted, loved, and respected him for years. All had sought his counsel before, but now they finally understood the depth of his knowledge and the years of experience behind that counsel.
Kayden’s shift was far more dramatic. She looked at Jake differently, responded to him differently—almost with admiration or genuine respect in her eyes. If Darcy saw the shift, surely it wasn’t lost on Jake.
Darcy took another delicious bite of the soufflé, warm liquid chocolate dancing in her mouth.
So much had happened in the months since she’d left Yancey last winter—especially in the last couple weeks—what some might consider a lifetime’s worth, and yet she was content to simply sit and enjoy being surrounded by the family she’d come to love so dearly.
“Why don’t you bunk here?” Piper said when Darcy finally stood to go.
“Thanks for the offer. I would, but it’s nearly ten, and I don’t want to cancel my reservation at the Caribou so late.”
“That makes sense,” Piper said. “But how about tomorrow night? It’ll be fun. We could make it a girls’ night. What do you think, Kayden?” She smiled at her future sister-in-law. “You too, Bailey.”
“I’m in,” Bailey said, appearing eager for the girl time.
“Yep,” Kayden said, clearly trying to be gracious. Her idea of a girls’ night hosted by Piper had to be on par with Darcy’s idea of a night spent cage fighting.
Jake seemed to smile at the notion of Kayden participating in a girls’ night.
“So are you in, Darcy?” Piper asked.
“Absolutely.”
“Great. I’ll pick you up at the Caribou when I finish my shift at the shop tomorrow. Should be around four.”
“Sounds good. I’ll look forward to it.” She’d sleep in, spend time in God’s Word, go for a jog, and enjoy the Caribou’s fabulous afternoon tea. The Caribou was by far her favorite bed and breakfast in Alaska.
Gage grabbed his car keys off the hook. “I’ll drive you back.”
“Thanks.”
He held the door for her as she stepped outside. Temperatures in Yancey were far warmer than they’d been in the Aleutians. Even at ten o’clock at night it was still near fifty.
“You’re staying for Cole and Bay’s wedding?” he asked once they were in his Land Rover.
“Of course. I wouldn’t miss it. I can’t believe it’s only two weeks away.”
“I know.” He sighed. “I think we could all use an honest-to-goodness family celebration.”
“And then there’s Piper and Landon’s in August.”
“Yes, it’s going to be a good summer.” He turned on the ignition but left the Rover idling, then shifted to face her. “I realize it’s kind of short notice, but I was wondering if you had a date?”
She smiled, butterflies tingling through her. “For Cole and Bailey’s wedding?”
He nodded with a charming smile.
“No. I do not.” She arched a brow. “Was that an invitation, Mr. McKenna?”
His smile widened. “That depends, Miss St. James.”
She shifted to face him fully. “On what?”
“If it can be the first of many.”
Joy filled her as he leaned across the space separating them and pressed his lips to hers. Definitely the first of many, she prayed.
Acknowledgments
God: Thank you, Father, for carrying me through.
Mike: For being the love of my life and my best friend.
Kay: For being the sweet, kind, hilarious, and occasionally fiery girl that you are. I love you beyond measure.
Doug: For being there for us when we needed you most. Love you.
Dave Long and Karen Schurrer: Words cannot express how grateful I am to be paired with you two, and considering how much I talk, I hope you know that says A LOT. You are both phenomenal!
Debra Larsen, Noelle Buss, Steve Oates, Paul Higdon, Dave Horton, and my entire BHP family: Thank you so much for your tremendous support. It’s a joy working with you all.
Dave Lewis, Scott Hurm, Bill Shady, Nathan Henrion, Max Eerdmans, Rod Jantzen, and Rob Teigen: Thank you for getting the ALASKAN COURAGE series into the hands of readers. I deeply appreciate all you do.
Dee: Thank you for your continued friendship, support, encouragement, and advice. I am so blessed by you.
Lisa, Maria, and Donna: Thank you for your abiding friendship and love.
Kelli: For being the amazingly creative and super-talented woman you are. You never cease to amaze.
Rel Mollet, Nora St. Laurent, Casey Herringshaw, Melanie De Jong, Katie McCurdy, Renee Chaw, Nancy Kimball, Susan Sleeman, and Suzanne Kuhn for your amazing support. I deeply appreciate you all.
To my dear readers: Thank you for your kind notes of encouragement, your enthusiasm for the McKennas’ stories, and for sharing the ALASKAN COURAGE series with your friends and family. I’m so very grateful for you.
Dani Pettrey is a wife, homeschooling mom, and author. She feels blessed to write inspirational romantic suspense because it incorporates so many things she loves—the thrill of adventure, nail-biting suspense, the deepening of her characters’ faith, and plenty of romance. She and her husband reside in Maryland with their two teenage daughters.
Visit her Web site at www.danipettrey.com.
Books by Dani Pettrey
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Submerged
Shattered
Stranded
Resources: bethanyhouse.com/AnOpenBook
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Dani Pettrey, Stranded
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