Vanished (Beautiful Mess #4)

Landon let out a sigh. “It’s the girls.”

“The girls?” Alexander furrowed his brow, not understanding. “I thought everything at the shelter’s been manageable, aside from a few expected hiccups.”

Shaking his head, Landon ran his hand over his face. In an instant, he looked years older than he was. His eyelids drooped, a forlorn weariness seeping into the lines around his eyes.

“We’ve been able to handle it all. Between myself and the staff, as well as some help from my buddies in the Marines and navy stationed over there, we’ve been able to thwart various threats.”

“Then what’s so important that you flew all the way here to talk to me in person?”

Landon hesitated. “Promise you’ll let me finish what I have to say before you blow up.”

Studying him, Alexander looked for some sort of indication about what had his friend so wound up and acting incredibly out of character. “At least you’re not asking me not to get mad.”

“I know you better than that,” Landon replied. Turning toward Alexander, he paused, taking a breath. “It started about a month ago. As you know, we’ve been working with the Ministry of Women’s Affairs every step of the way. And we still are.”

Alexander nodded. He had met with a few liaisons in the ministry numerous times. Without their help, the shelter never would have seen the light of day.

“We’re still meeting all the requirements the ministry has set forth. We’re not technically breaking any protocol.”

“Okay…,” Alexander replied in a drawn-out voice, waiting for the punchline.

“Typically, the ministry’s goal is to reunite the family unit. They arrange supervised meetings, with a facilitator, between the girls and their families to try to make each side understand where the other is coming from. It can be a long process, sometimes taking a year or more, but in the end, the ministry wants the family unit to become whole again. As you know, our shelter’s different. We take the worst of the worst, women who the ministry believe face a great risk of death or severe injury if the family members even knew their location. Our liaison handpicks these women, sending them to us for safe harbor. No one knows it’s even a shelter. For all intents and purposes, it’s just a medical clinic.”

“Yes, I understand all of that.”

“Everything was going great until…” He closed his eyes.

“Until what?”

Sighing, his shoulders fell. “A few months ago, our ministry liaison, Rahima, went missing. Her body was found a few days later, a bullet to the head.” He briefly closed his eyes. “Immediately following her disappearance, the clinic was hit for the first time. I think someone figured out what’s been going on and went through her to find out these women’s location. Police brushed it off as just a group of locals unhappy with the western presence, but it’s got to be connected to Rahima’s disappearance.”

“Have you spoken to your new liaison about this?”

He nodded. “Aliyah tends to agree with the local police. She says clinics get hit all the time, especially those operated by western organizations. I guess she has a point, but my gut tells me there’s more to it.” He drew in a long breath and met Alexander’s eyes, his expression pleading. “These women have lived in fear for so long. For a second, they could finally breathe, but now…” He bowed his head. “All that’s gone again. They jump at every loud noise. They’re just waiting for the day our protective services aren’t good enough. I thought a shelter was the best way to keep them safe, but it’s not. These women are forced to live suspended between two worlds. It’s not a safe haven. It’s a jail. Yes, they’re alive, but they’re not really living. And it’s only a matter of time until it all crumbles beneath us.”

Alexander continued staring at his friend, waiting for him to drop the bomb. Landon rubbed his hands on his pants, his jaw clenching before he turned to Alexander once more.

“I don’t know who else to go to. You’re the only one I know who can pull something like this off.” He ran his hands through his hair, drawing in a deep breath. “If I could just have help getting them to Ecuador, I can get them here.”

“Here?” Alexander straightened his spine, disbelief covering his face. He didn’t know what he thought Landon was going to say, but it certainly wasn’t this. “What about the rules of engagement?!” Alexander roared.

“Fuck the rules of engagement!” Landon shot up, glaring at him. “When did you start caring more about diplomacy and bureaucracy than just saying fuck it and doing what you want? The Alex I remember from our SEAL days worked outside the box, and we did amazing things together. We can do that again! Here! We can make a difference! We can save lives!”

Alexander buried his head in his hands as he tried to reel in his anger.

“They’ll never be safe there,” Landon bellowed, his face turning red. “I can’t just do nothing, knowing each morning they wake up may be their last. Some of them are just girls with babies of their own! One of them is pregnant from her rapist, and the family wanted her to marry him! Marry him! Can you imagine? I have to do something, but I need your help.”

“Landon, please—”

“I know you have a lot of pull with all your contacts. I just need help getting them on a transport out of Afghanistan. Not even all of them! We’ll just get one out at a time so we don’t raise suspicion. If anything goes wrong, your name will never come up.”

Alexander shook his head. Landon was asking him to break every rule in the book, not to mention violate federal immigration law. “How do you choose who gets to go and who stays behind? Who decided that you get to play God?”

“I’m not playing God. I’m just being a decent human being, helping those most at risk. Come on, Alex. You’ve never played by anybody’s rules before. Why start now?”

“Landon, I may bend the rules,” Alexander stated firmly, standing, “but I don’t break them. We don’t smuggle women out of the country! That’s not our purpose over there. Our purpose is to provide a temporary safe haven for those who need it!”

“But it’s no longer safe! There’s no other option. Not anymore!”

“How do you expect me to explain the missing girls to the ministry? If they walk in and see empty beds, they’re going to want to know what happened.”

“I’ll figure that out when the time comes.”

“And you don’t think the ministry will become suspicious when they notice girls start disappearing from the shelter they send their high-risk cases to?”

“And when that shelter is no longer safe for them, what am I supposed to do? Nothing?”

“Yes, Landon,” Alexander argued, the vein in his neck bulging. “Nothing. You provide medical care. A bed. Food. Clothing. Limited protection. But what you don’t do is smuggle them out of the country!” Alexander strode over to the wet bar and poured a tumbler of scotch, slinging it back. It was barely ten in the morning, but he needed a drink.

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