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25 to 30 women. 10 guards, masked. 1 entrance in the front, 1 in the back. Kore.
I contacted my team to let them know we were leaving in an hour. But I’m waiting for Scott to get here. I might be the boss, but I rarely make a decision without talking with him first. I hear his boots before seeing him.
“So, what’s your plan?” he asks as he takes a seat in front of me.
“The plan stays the same. Five in the front, five in the back in case something happens. Now that we know there are two entrances, I’ll put another team in the back. We don’t know who’s behind this, so we need to be careful. It’s been days since we received the first video, so waiting is no longer an option. We’re getting them out of there tonight.”
He nods in agreement.
“When are we leaving?” he questions.
I look at the time on my watch.
“Thirty minutes from now. Everybody is ready.” I pause. “We may wait until nightfall before doing anything, but we can at least check around.”
“Okay, I’ll get ready.”
The drive to Linlithgow is not far from Edinburgh. Around 20 miles at most. Everybody is quiet. We’re divided into two cars and one big van. Once we arrive, I check our surroundings. Not a sound except the birds singing. That’s odd. As expected, near the palace, we found a well-hidden hangar. You wouldn’t see it at first, but it’s there. I can see the rust of the doors from here. A tractor and several cars are parked nearby in the back of it. It’s almost 8 p.m., but the night starts to fall. The joy of Scotland. Giving a last briefing, we start to move closer to the hangar.
I can only see Scott’s devilish eyes through his mask, looking like the walking dead itself.
Tim, Shaan, and Al are not far behind us, each knowing what they have to do. Repositioning my mask over my face, I make my steps as light as possible. I hear noises coming from the other side of the hangar and stop. There’s three. Easy. I can’t see their faces hidden behind their half-face masks. Interesting.
As I glance around, the metallic glint of guns attached to their holders catches my eye.
“Two guns each and knives attached to their waists,” I murmur to the guys through my earpiece. As I focus on the tractor, I see Tim’s figure shifting in my peripheral, positioning himself to take aim with his gun.
“Fuck.” My attention draws to the hangar as I notice more men coming out. Their cigarettes' red glow provides the only light source, casting a shadowy effect on their faces. “I can see two more men standing,” I whisper.
“Boss, there are two more in the back,” Al says.
Scott and I exchange an understanding look. We’re outnumbered. But it’s too early to call the other teams. Scott nods silently, his Glock held tightly in his hand as he moves forward. As I reach the side of the hangar with Scott close by, I smell the scent of oil and gasoline mixed with the musty smell of old metal. We exchange another look, and without a word, we strike. One of them is caught off guard as I come up from behind and quickly place my hands around his throat, preventing any cries for help. Scott follows suit, trying to blend in, but his cover is blown when a damn twig snaps under his foot. Before the man can scream for help, Scott swiftly shoots him with his silencer in the forehead. Two down. Al and Shaan move with stealth, swift as ninjas. The sound of their footsteps is the only warning the other guys have before they get pinned down. Dead.
“We need to move before one of them notices something. Team 2,” I say in my earpiece, “The back hangar is for you. We’re moving inside.”
“Damn, it’s dark.” I hear Tim say, and yeah, it’s creepy as hell. The walls are covered in a thick layer of mould, and the pungent smell of urine permeates the air.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there is a rat’s nest in there,” Shaan whispers. In the background, I can hear the sound of moans and not the pretty kind.
“Do you hear that?” murmurs Scott.
“Yeah, it sounds like it’s coming from that way,” I say, gesturing to the other side of one of the doors. As I glance to the side, I can make out a group of men wearing covers on their faces, sitting on old, rusty chairs. The scene is a strange mix of light snores and oblivious chatter, as if they don’t notice the women chained nearby. Disgusting.
We’re getting closer, moving in the shadows, when I step on something. Everyone freezes in their tracks.
“Shit, what was that?” asks Scott, the sound of the metallic thing still making noise in the room.
“Did you hear that?” one of the guards asks. I hear the rustling of their bodies as they begin to stir, slowly standing up. Fuck, fuck, fuck.
The sound of gunfire from their side shatters the silence and startles some of the guards awake.
“Shit,” I swear under my breath. “We need to move faster.”
“Cazzo,” I hear one of the guards say. “Incoming,” shouts another one. Gunfire echoes through the air, seeming to come from all directions.
“Get on the floor,” I yell. The unmistakable sounds of distress and panic coming from the women grow louder and closer.
“They're here. Behind this door. I can hear them.” I say to no one in particular. “The door is locked.” The sound of cursing fills the room as the shots get closer. We need to hurry if we want to make it out of here. “Take care of them,” I order Al, motioning towards the guard who is nearing us. “I need to unlock this door.” I hold my gun firmly, pointing it directly at the lock, and shout loudly so the girls can hear my words. “Get back.” And I shoot. It takes me two shots for the door to unlock, and horror fills my lungs when I open it. What we saw was just the tip of the iceberg; it’s much worse than that.
