Page 3 of Ground Zero

After the police take control of the chaos, I give my statement, and witnesses come forward reiterating what I have testified.

Before I leave, I look at the little girl's house. She and her mother stand in the doorway, watching, and someone else is standing in the shadow at the window. The young girl raises her hand, and I raise mine.

Freedom is always worth fighting for.

Chapter 2

Crockett

Sittingat my table inSuds After BUD/Sde-stressing over a glass of whiskey, the lead detective calls to inform me that I will not be charged for killing the pervert. The men in the van confirmed my testimony and confessed that they were not targeting the girl specifically, just targeting young girls. Their intention was to smuggle her over the border into Mexico, then sell her into human trafficking.

I thank him for the call, slam the remaining whiskey in my glass down, and think about the numbers he threw out. They were staggering. "Estimates of 40 million people are enslaved across the world every year, and 79% of those involve sexual exploitation. Due to the fact that individuals are transported across borders, it makes it especially difficult for law enforcement to investigate and rescue them. The average age is twenty-seven years old."

I pour myself another shot of booze, swirl the amber liquid in the glass, and mull over the idea that formed while he was talking.

Freedom isn't free. It requires constant vigilance and a willingness to take up arms to defend it. I may not be fighting for it in the military under the direction of the free world leader at the moment, but that doesn't mean I can't fight for it on an individual civilian level.

I sip the liquid and stretch my legs out under the table as the idea solidifies. What if I started a private security company specializing in rescuing victims of trafficking?

There are plenty of companies that hire former special warfare operators to be bodyguards. But I am not aware of a single one that offers its services to combat human trafficking. We have the skills to search and rescue victims taken, and I have already proven it can be successfully done.

I will never forget the desperation in Butch Wofford's voice when he called and told me his son and his girlfriend had been taken hostage in Africa while on a mission trip. The kidnappers demanded more money than Butch was willing to gamble on his son's life.

"Crockett, I'm calling in the debt you said you owed me."

Within twenty-four hours, I had an extraction team of former SEAls on a jet flying across the ocean. We went in, did a snatch and grab, and safely brought the couple home.

Why would I not offer other families that service?

I pull my phone out of my pocket to type in my notes a list of Pros versus Cons. The first pro is "Saving innocent girls from becoming sex slaves," and the name Cock Blockers pops into my brain.

I smirk; the guys will love it. Nothing like a group of badass motherfuckers to block the cocks of sexual deviants and perverted sickos.

The next pro is "Getting the team back together," and with that thought comes the realization that I would be the one who set the rules of conduct.

I swirl the amber liquid and ponder what that would mean.

It would mean Nina would not be off-limits. That I could finally make the woman I fell in love with all those years ago mine.

I drain the glass, then pour another shot.

Nina Fox. Foxtrot. I fell in love with her the first time I laid eyes on her.

It was just before nine pm on a Tuesday night about six years ago. Mike, Jocko, and I were sitting at a bar wrapping up a steak dinner when three women walked in. Nina caught my eye immediately.

She was gorgeous. Her face was perfection. Symmetrical. Big eyes, great smile, easy laugh. Her thick black hair was one length, cropped along her neckline, longer in the front than the back, angled to compliment. Her sweater hugged her generous tits, full but not fake. Her bra didn't conceal them but instead offered them up to enjoy. The neckline was extra wide and exposed her beautiful skin invitingly.

They sat at a table, and my position gave me a great view, so I checked her out.

The waiter took their order, and when he walked away, she scanned the room. Our eyes met, and boom, sparks. The connection was instant and electric.

I ask the guys, "Anyone else feel like getting fucked tonight?"

Jocko asked, "Fucked or fucked up?"

I nodded in the direction of the girls.

He and Mike not so subtly turned and looked at the same time. Nina smirked at me, then leaned over to say something to her girlfriends.

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