CHAPTER 162
Henry's compound was exactly what I'd expected from a man who'd spent decades building a criminal empire - a converted castle in the Romanian mountains, complete with medieval walls updated with modern security systems and enough armed guards to repel a small army. As the helicopter settled onto the fortified landing pad, I counted at least twenty visible defensive positions, all manned by professionals who looked like they'd been waiting for exactly this kind of arrival.
"Welcome to your new home, granddaughter," Henry said as armed men escorted me from the aircraft. "I do hope you find the accommodations suitable."
"Charming," I replied, studying the compound's layout and comparing it to the intelligence files I'd memorized over the past months. "Very medieval torture chamber meets modern trafficking headquarters."
"I prefer to think of it as traditional values enhanced by contemporary efficiency."
The guards led me through a courtyard that had probably seen centuries of violence, then into a main building where ancient stone walls were lined with computer servers and communication equipment. Henry had transformed a historical monument into the nerve center of an international criminal organization.
"Impressive setup," I said, noting the positions of security cameras and the blind spots that Lucas had identified in his reconnaissance reports. "How many girls are you processing through here monthly?"
"Currently? About three hundred. But with your assistance, I'm projecting we can increase that to over a thousand within eighteen months."
The casual way he discussed human lives made my stomach turn, but I forced myself to remain calm. Getting angry wouldn't help the victims or my unborn daughter - information would.
"And where exactly do you see me fitting into this operation?"
"As my heir and operational commander. You'll oversee strategic planning, coordinate with government contacts, and most importantly, begin training your daughter for her eventual role in the organization."
We entered what looked like a command center, with wall-mounted screens displaying surveillance feeds from dozens of locations across Eastern Europe. Each screen showed the same horrifying reality - young women in cages, children being processed like inventory, buyers examining their purchases with the casual attitude of people shopping for livestock.
"This is what you want our daughter to inherit?" I asked, feeling our baby kick sharply as if responding to my elevated stress levels.
"This is what she will inherit, whether she's trained for it or not. The only question is whether she'll be equipped to control it or be destroyed by it."
Henry moved to a large desk covered with documents and photographs, gesturing for me to join him. As I approached, I could see that the papers detailed expansion plans for trafficking networks across multiple continents, including detailed psychological profiles of potential victims.
"Your UN position has been quite useful," he continued. "The intelligence you've gathered about law enforcement operations has allowed us to avoid several costly raids."
"I never provided you with UN intelligence."
"Didn't you? Every trafficking network you dismantled created opportunities for our expansion. Every organization you destroyed eliminated competition. Whether you intended it or not, you've been working for me for months."
The horrifying truth of his statement hit me like a physical blow. Our success in destroying trafficking operations had indeed created power vacuums that Henry's organization had filled. In trying to save victims, we'd inadvertently strengthened the very system we were fighting against.
"I can see you're beginning to understand," Henry said, noting my expression. "The war against trafficking isn't about good versus evil, granddaughter. It's about who gets to control the industry. And control requires both legitimate authority and criminal resources."
"You're talking about legitimizing slavery."
"I'm talking about accepting reality. Human trafficking will exist whether we approve of it or not. The question is whether it's managed by sadistic amateurs or professional administrators who understand the value of maintaining their assets."
Through the window, I could see guards patrolling the compound's perimeter, their movements precise and coordinated. But I also noticed something else - small infrared strobes that would be invisible to the naked eye but clearly visible to anyone monitoring through night vision equipment.
Jax had been here. They were already in position.
"There's something I'm curious about," I said, moving closer to the window while pretending to study the compound's defenses. "How did you know I'd walk into your trap? How did you know I wouldn't just disappear with my team instead of surrendering?"
"Because you're a Mitchell, dear child. And Mitchells don't run from family obligations."
"Even when those obligations involve participating in crimes against humanity?"
"Especially then. Power requires moral flexibility, granddaughter. The ability to make difficult choices for the greater good."
I pressed my hand against the window, fingers spread in what would look like a casual gesture but was actually the signal Jax and I had arranged for "ready to proceed."
"What if I refuse?" I asked. "What if I'd rather die than help you expand this organization?"
"Then you'd be condemning not just yourself, but your unborn daughter. Because make no mistake - this child will be raised within the Mitchell family tradition regardless of your cooperation. The only question is whether she grows up knowing her mother or wondering why she abandoned her."
The threat was clear and absolute. Henry would kill me and raise our daughter as his weapon, programming her from birth to become the next generation of trafficking leadership.
But what he didn't understand was that I'd never intended to refuse his offer.
I'd intended to destroy him from the inside.
"All right," I said, turning away from the window. "I'll work with you. I'll provide intelligence, coordinate operations, and help train my daughter for her role in the organization."
"Excellent. I knew you'd see reason."
"But I have conditions."
"You're hardly in a position to negotiate."
"Aren't I? Because from where I'm standing, you need me more than I need you. You can kill me, but then you lose the legitimate UN connections, the intelligence network, and the genetic legacy you've been planning for decades."
Henry was quiet for a moment, clearly weighing my words against his own objectives.
"What conditions?" he asked finally.
"First, no more targeting children under twelve. If we're going to run a trafficking operation, we focus on older victims who can at least theoretically consent to their situations."
"Acceptable. Though I question your definition of consent."
"Second, medical care for all victims. No more letting girls die from preventable diseases or injuries."
"Also acceptable. Healthy merchandise commands higher prices."
"Third, I want access to all your financial records and operational files. If I'm going to help expand this organization, I need to understand its complete structure."
Henry smiled, clearly pleased with my apparent transformation from idealistic crusader to pragmatic criminal.
"Of course. You'll have full access to everything within forty-eight hours."
But as he moved to shake hands on our agreement, explosions began rocking the compound's outer defenses.
And I realized that Jax, Harry, and Lucas had just announced their arrival in the most direct way possible.
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