Juarez Liberty by Wayne C. Stewart

Author:Wayne C. Stewart
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: A new Army recruit must rescue five young girls from human trafficking in Ciudad Juarez.
Publisher: Wayne Stewart
Published: 2016-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Servicios Legales Vasquez.

The sign out front was no longer lit. That made sense. The time was now closer to 0130.

Dalton knocked anyway.

A momentary shuffling followed. The door opened, just enough for the blunt end of a shotgun barrel to overwhelm Dalton's personal space.

"Go away. Vamos!"

Cold black steel loomed large in the young man’s vision. He stepped back abruptly, partly due to the nature of the threat and also because he couldn't focus his eyes with the gun shoved at him that way.

"Whoa!" both hands up in a defenseless posture. "Vasquez? Ramon Vasquez, Esquire?"

"Who's asking?" the heavily accented reply, thankfully in a skilled English.

"I know this sounds ridiculous, sir, but I need your help… um, a young girl needs your help, right now. Well, I think there were five but I can only remember one. I am sorry for the intrusion at this hour... and I hope you're getting all of this but I think I saw a trafficking operation. This girl, she locked eyes with me as she was dragged away from Cantina Rosa and... "

Dalton’s voice trailed off, the sad icon seared with what the coming days and months would hold, were he not able to free her.

"Please,” he swallowed hard. “You've got to help."

The door opened and the gun was pulled back.

Surprised the man let him in, Dalton launched into as much detail as he owned, which was slim at best. A small lamp with green ceramic shade, lit sadly, likely signaled a late night for the aging Mexican lawyer as well. Five minutes later the man removed hand from chin and leaned over his document-strewn desktop.

"Sinaloa. Nuevo Juarez. Al Queda... " the lawyer motioned dismissively. "It doesn't matter. Those girls will be used in the same manner, regardless. There's nothing to be done. And it's none of my business."

"What do you mean—it doesn't matter?!” Dalton posed, running way out front of his usual ambivalence. “How do you get off making that decision for them? You're just going to consign them to that kind of fate!? Do you know how many men a day will use them? How can you not care?!"

Maybe it was the situation itself, so cruel and unjust by anyone's moral compass. Or maybe something had come alive in him, a long dormant empathy subdued under vast layers of his own pain and disillusion. Whatever it was, this awakening would not be silenced easily.

But Vasquez simply waved him off, disregarding the young man's vigor and looking down again at the contracts on his desk.

Dalton looked at the papers. It hit him like a jackhammer’s first impingement on encrusted ground.

"Hold it. You’re in on it? You son of a..."

Vasquez stood, rising so fast that Dalton's epithet levitated, cut short in mid-air.

"Who are you to question me?!! You know nothing of my business and the city in which I make my livelihood. Nothing! Whatever you assume, you know nothing!"

His face flushed. The two entered a for-real confrontation of wills. Vazquez’ disinterested veneer was shed for a full-chested defense of his name and honor.

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