"Ooh? Good stuff!"
The little beauty didn't hesitate. She pulled the pin and tossed the grenade at the enemy.
Old agent Bryan felt a sharp spike of unease. You girls have grenades too?
As an ally, even he was alarmed. One could only imagine the terror facing their enemies.
The Albanian gang across from them was caught completely off guard. Even now, they didn't know who they were fighting—only that the enemy had superior gear and terrifying aim.
When the grenade landed at their feet, they froze for a split second. By the time the instinct to run kicked in, it was too late.
BOOM!
The explosion wasn't a Hollywood fireball, but the concussive blast in the confined space was devastating. Shrapnel tore through unarmored flesh instantly.
Without RPGs, and unable to summon Pyramid Head to slaughter them all, Bella felt a twinge of regret. Still, the trio moved like reapers, turning the Albanian stronghold into a slaughterhouse. Bodies littered the floor; blood flowed freely.
"Hey! Over here!" Natasha called out from a distance.
Bella and the old agent rushed over.
Pushing into the room, Bella saw a burly man lying in a pool of blood in the corner, three bullet holes in his chest.
The guard had been taken out by Natasha. Five girls were huddled together, staring at them in terror.
The five young women seemed unharmed—no signs of sexual assault or forced drug injection yet. Among them was a familiar face: Amanda, that airhead Bella had met on the plane.
Bryan poked his head in, then immediately retreated. The girls were naked, stripped of every shred of clothing.
Moving with blinding speed, he ran to the dead Albanians, stripped several jackets off the corpses, and tossed them into the room.
Knowing the old agent's mindset, Bella asked on his behalf. "Amanda! Where is Kim? Isn't she with you?"
You know me? You know Kim?
Amanda stared at this strange woman—wearing an FBI vest, face masked, voice raspy—and couldn't recognize her at all.
Bryan waited anxiously outside for a few seconds. Hearing no response, he couldn't hold back anymore.
Like a lion pacing his cage, he charged into the room, grabbed Amanda by the arm, and asked with suppressed rage, "Where is Kim? Tell me! Where is she?!"
The lighting was dim. Amanda didn't recognize Bella, but she had met Bryan once and heard Kim talk about her "strict" father.
"Kim... Kim isn't with me. Because... she... she's a virgin... so those men took her away..." Amanda stammered softly.
Took her where? Took her by whom?
Amanda knew nothing. The other girls were just tourists visiting France; right now, they were traumatized, unable to form coherent sentences.
"Stay in this room. Don't go anywhere. We'll be back."
The battle was still ongoing. Without time to explain, Bella rasped an order for them to hide.
Needing to interrogate someone about Kim's location, they switched from rifles back to pistols. Ten minutes later, the entire building was cleared.
Scores of Albanians lay dead. A dozen were captured. In total, they rescued over thirty girls.
Some were like Amanda—stripped naked but physically untouched. Others had suffered assaults and were currently delirious from drugs.
The numbers were about half and half. They had to let the sober ones support the drugged ones as they walked out.
The trail of corpses along the way terrified the girls, but the trio responsible for tonight's bloodbath offered no explanation.
Bryan was no superhero. He was here to save his daughter. The other girls were saved merely by circumstance; he absolutely wouldn't waste precious time settling them down if it meant delaying Kim's rescue.
He needed to interrogate the prisoners overnight. Since he didn't speak French, Natasha stayed behind to help translate. That left Bella responsible for the thirty-plus rescued girls.
"I don't know who you are, but this is complicated. If it's not handled right..." The old agent spoke cautiously. His instinct told him this wasn't simple. The Albanians deserved to die, sure, but they were just the bottom-tier muscle doing the dirty work. The entire trafficking chain likely involved interests from all sides.
"Don't worry. I can handle it."
Bella, still masked and speaking in a rasp, reassured him. She trusted the old spy somewhat, but vigilance was necessary. What if one of the rescued girls turned out to be an ungrateful snitch? What if she recognized Bella later and sold the story to the media?
Sometimes, doing the right thing was more dangerous than doing the wrong thing. You had to watch your back.
Bryan thought for a moment. "I'll try to contact the Embassy, but I'm retired. My connections might not work."
"Relax. I'll handle things here. You go chase the lead on Kim." Bella gave Natasha a look, signaling: Watch his back, but let him work.
Bryan and Natasha dragged the dozen unconscious prisoners away first. Bella stayed behind to calm the thirty girls and make arrangements.
"Listen to me. I saved you, remember? Please stay quiet and don't run. I'm making arrangements. Is that clear?" Bella spoke with authority.
The group included Americans and various other nationalities. They were scared witless, never having seen such a scene. Seeing Bella—vested, half-covered in blood, gun in hand—they didn't dare make a peep.
They nodded frantically. A few whispered, "We trust you!"
"Good." Bella signaled them to relax but stay within sight. She walked to a distance to make a call.
She wasn't UN staff, nor could she reach the UN. Her only option was the US. After all, the American flag still carried weight.
To say the US Embassy in Paris was completely unaware of these missing female tourists was unlikely. There had been over a hundred reports.
But to say the Embassy was colluding with the traffickers might be a stretch.
Americans possessed a certain arrogance. If they heard their citizens were being traded like cattle by foreigners, no one would stand for it.
Bella contacted Victoria Hand. The woman, a calculating pragmatist, exploded immediately upon hearing the news.
"The French authorities are playing blind? Are they insane?!"
"It's true. I just rescued over thirty girls. Eleven are Americans. They said there are even more girls at the construction sites... but their minds might have been destroyed by drugs. They'll need extensive follow-up treatment..."