And they didn’t.
Jack felt good about their participation in tonight’s operation. Eight Navy SEALs would rappel from the Black Hawk to the roof of the building. Until given an all-clear signal, the Night Stalkers would remain hovering overhead with the two gunners ready to add support from the air. Just in case.
Eliza had told Jack what to expect at each of the doors on every floor. In addition, one of the agents on the ground had verified a few of the entries. Eliza still hated Jack, but she was telling the truth. She probably figured no point getting them all killed tonight. The raid was going down with or without her help, and she knew it.
Wrong information would only harm all of them.
A breeze blew over the balcony and settled Jack’s soul. Over the last few days, every bit of intelligence had been passed on to Oliver, and the information disseminated to the Army and Navy. The plan tonight had been analyzed from every angle. And the risks were substantial.
Guards at each of the doors were armed with automatic weapons. The second they heard a helicopter overhead or someone crashing through a door, bullets would fly. Each of the SEALs would be wearing helmet and body armor, along with night-vision goggles. They would be packing the very best M4 rifles, .45 handguns, six-inch Daniel Winkler fixed blades, M79 grenade launchers and M67 grenades. And their weapons would be fitted with the best silencers on the market.
They would also have bolt cutters, tourniquets, various tools, and breaching devices—small flat boxes they could quickly fix to a door and ignite to gain entry into just about any room. In case the girls got separated and had to be rescued individually.
Each SEAL would also carry a camera—to collect every bit of evidence along the way. This was a multidimensional raid. First and most important it was a rescue. But beyond that tonight they would capture and arrest Anders McMillan and every one of his men. Captured alive was the goal, but if they met with resistance, it was a takedown. Period. The mission was justified in every sense of the word.
Jack only wished they’d had enough evidence to do this sooner.
Anders would be brought back to the States, where he would face enough charges to put him away for a couple hundred years. And while the Army, Navy and FBI pulled off the raid at the Palace, a Belizean police contingency led by Chief Manny Averes would apprehend Betsy Norman, an American expat who helped kidnap girls and bring them to the Palace. For much of Eliza’s life, Betsy had been assigned to her. Making sure she got her sun and that no man ever took advantage of her. Not until her father said so. From what surveillance suggested, the FBI had enough evidence to lock the woman away for good.
Jack wondered how many Betsy Normans there were in the world. Evil people willing to traffic girls—all to make a paycheck. He angled his face toward the sky. So many details, and each of them would have to work perfectly for the mission to succeed. In order for all of them to return home alive. He wished he could call Shane… or his parents. Someone who cared whether he made it back tonight.
But there was no one to call, and anyway, all Jack cared about was the rescue.
Eliza had told him most of the girls were U.S. citizens. She wasn’t sure about herself. “I tried to block out everything from my childhood,” she had told him. Whether that was true or not, Jack couldn’t tell. He didn’t blame Eliza for not wanting to talk about her life. Anything she said could get her killed—at least until after the mission.
Once they rescued the girls they would take them back to Texas. Agents in San Antonio would match them with girls on various missing children databases. If all went well, tonight the girls would sleep at a safe shelter outside the city.
And in a few days some of them could even be home.
The rest would be in the custody of the social services system, which would work to find their families or next of kin. The few Canadian children would be flown back to their country in the next week or so. Others, with no families, would be placed in foster care.
None of them would ever have to work another night in their lives.
Jack stood and sauntered to the railing. Adrenaline already flowed through his veins. On the day of a raid, the waiting was the hardest part. He went over the plan again. While six of the SEALs secured the building, apprehending the guards at every entrance, two more would break into the fourth floor. Anders’s private quarters. Those SEALs would kick through the windows and, they hoped, catch him by surprise. Then, like his men, he would be arrested or neutralized.
If the mission went according to plan, that part would take about five minutes.
At that time, once the guards were no longer a threat, a signal would be given alerting Jack that he and Agent Terri could approach the boardroom at the back of the house and rescue the girls. She wasn’t the driver of the bus any longer. That was TJ. Terri would be with the girls. Oliver thought the young ones might trust a female agent, and Jack agreed.
TJ would drive the bus to a nearby bluff, while the SEALs would continue to sweep the rest of the Palace and take Anders and his apprehended men to the Palace’s grassy yard.
Seconds after the bus pulled up at the bluff, an Army Chinook helicopter, manned by another four Night Stalkers, would land and the girls and agents would be helped inside. The Chinook would fly to Placencia Peninsula, forty minutes south. From there a private plane waiting at the Placencia Maya Airstrip would take the group to the San Antonio airport, and
