CHAPTER 493: RAID THE ABODE (8)

The next morning, the island was unusually quiet ... at least in the main town. The birds still chirped and the waves still kissed the rocky shore, but an odd weight hung in the air, like the island itself had sensed something stirring beneath its skin. It was as if the chaos in the forest’s depths was in a sandbox.

By mid-morning, word began to spread.

A group of boys had ventured too far into the forest and claimed they’d seen people in black moving through the trees with equipment- metal things that blinked and beeped. One boy swore he saw a drone zip through the canopy in the early morning hours.

At first, the elders dismissed them, but they couldn’t ignore it anymore with the arrival of the boats- not the usual lone fishing vessels, but unmarked, sleek, and purposeful. Four of them docked quietly but firmly, like they had every right to be there.

Then more arrived. It was chaotic! Especially when they saw a group of emancipated individuals being led to the same boats. This was Leon’s backup team. They had on tactical gear. Scanners. Cold expressions.

Panic rippled.

"Isn’t that Beatrice? I thought she had absconded with my money! But why does she look like that?"

"OMG! My son!"

"My wife!"

Cries of panic and surprise rushed through them as they all tried to run up to the sorry-looking people being led from the depths of the forests through the sand and into the waiting boats!

The town council, made up of five people, gathered, arguing and trying to go through the defence line of stern policemen to understand what was happening, and it did not take them long.

While the first choppers had been covert, the next ones were not, and the noise from the whirling blades woke up the rest of the island.

The sound came first.... a sharp whurrrrrrr-whurrrrrrr-whurrrrrrr that grew louder by the second, bouncing off the hills like thunder. Islanders looked up, shielding their eyes from the morning sun just in time to see the first news helicopter circling overhead, its camera lens gleaming like a watchful eye. They were identified from their logos painted on the aircraft.

Then came another and then another. Three more news helicopters? What the hell was happening?!

They buzzed and captured aerial photos of the encampment, law enforcement at work, and a line of people who had been freed.

Children pointed excitedly, and the adults groaned, but with a few familiar faces in the people being ushered and tended to, they at least understood that the people they had presumed dead and missing had been found... as for the backstory, it did not take long for the news to air it. The relatives of those found boarded the available boats and followed them to T-Vino Island. This was the first trip out of their tiny island for most of them.

The news crew were not just limited to the airspace, down at the docks, it only got worse.

Boats, sturdy, fast, and too clean to be from the island, began appearing, loaded with camera crews, producers, and tabloid journalists shouting questions before they even hit shore. A few wore fake smiles, waving at locals.

They all wanted one thing: a headline.

"Were you aware of the cannabis?"

"Were you all workers there too?"

"How could you not be aware, when your people worked there?"

"What of the drug money?"

The story went global and soon, all the connecting islands heard of it.

Another unexpected twist happened then: a young reporter found something, or rather someone, interesting!

"Stick to the basics! We need that story! We need something fresh!" ... and that was exactly what he got.

The reporter hadn’t meant to wander off. His producer had warned him but with the locals already glaring at their crew like they were plague-bringers, he decided to concentrate and take a different angle.

’The enslaved workers!’ That was when someone caught his eye. He had followed almost all the news relating to Mrs Shelby Thornston and remembered, and therefore, Brianna caught his eye.

She was curled up, hugging a cloth, barefoot and bruised, wearing a dress so thin that it was alarming. Her hair was matted. Her eyes were dull with exhaustion.

His heart froze.

’She looks so familiar... is she really that girl who went missing?’

He knew that face, but with the drastic changes, he was unsure.

He watched as she was ushered onto one of the waiting boats. With each passing second, he grew surer. He fumbled with his camera, almost dropped it, then took the shot. One. Two. Then, he added a short video, fifteen seconds of her slowly raising a trembling hand to her face.

He pressed "upload" without thinking. The footage hit his station’s secure server instantly. His editor would handle the rest.

It did not take long: 500K views: Trending #1: #abode #cold case cracked # missinggirls? # crimering # anotherdrugcase? #Wendoveragain?

BREAKING NEWS: Girl Believed Missing and Presumed Dead Alive on Remote Island

***

Meanwhile, Leon and Evans oversaw everything in the heart of all this. The two exchanged hurried updates as the sun rose and then dipped.

"Who exactly is Ian Thornston again?"

Evans couldn’t help but ask.

"Don’t ask questions that you cannot stomach the answer to...."

"But, if he has this force under him, why is his wife ...?"

This was what was baffling to Leon, too, but they had no answers, and they dared not speculate.

"Time will give us those answers...."

"I only told them of our findings and plans, and they even found more than we bargained for... I mean, I did not even think of the media! And the timing was wild.. I mean, I barely got off the phone when they were ready... We usually use months to plan such an operation, and they did it within minutes of prep without alerting the target! This is nextgen!"

Leon, though appearing calm, was even more so surprised. He remembered when Currey had come to see him some time back....

"I will be away for some time, use this phone if you need help... of any nature."

Leon knew that Ian had taken him as his person, but he never thought of this.... not even once. In fact, when he gave that phone to Evans, he was unsure of what to expect, but one thing was for sure: never in his wildest dreams did he think that these resources would be available to him.

The thing was that the forces that had come, consisting of almost fifty men, were dressed in tactical clothes like the T-Vino Island elite force. This also meant that no questions would be asked, for everyone would think that the police force had done this. Only he and Evans knew the truth! The team had thought it through in ways he had never considered. Leon had not even prepared what he would tell his Chief about them.

’I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it!’

"You were right," Evans said, handing over a data tablet ... "... but I underestimated how right! With what I have gathered so far, I have a hunch that our cold case...."

Leon nodded, not waiting for Evans to complete the sentence.

Just then, the head of the tactical team walked up to them,

"Detective Leon, Detective Evans, we are almost done with the task at hand. These are the files and the ...."

***

Mush Mansion...

"Madam Abi... Madam Abi! Sir! You need to see this!"

"What is it!" Abi snapped.

These days, her mood had been very irritable, and she had lost the will to do anything at all!

She wanted some quiet, but a stupid maid had interrupted her brief shut-eye moment.

Despite her annoyance, she opened her eyes and frowned,

"The news! It’s the Miss!"

It took a while before the information sunk in....

"Miss?"

"My Princess?" Abram asked, dropping a mug and breaking it in the process. Abi shot up, ready to rush out, but the maid turned on the TV instead.

"...Breaking news: Out of the coast of .... – a covert operation this dawn has uncovered .....

.... among the rescued forced-labour workers, a girl presumed dead months ago has resurfaced...."

Abi’s mouth dropped open. She walked up to the screen just as a clear video began to play—a girl stepping out from the trees, barefoot and frail, clutching a cloth around herself. Abi knew it! This was her Brianna!

But as the camera zoomed, and Abi’s world collapsed.

Her knees literally gave out. She crawled closer to the television, heart racing wildly. Her fingers trembled as she reached out to touch the screen. "No... no. It can’t be..."

Her Brianna looked suddenly older, gaunter... but those eyes. Those were her eyes.

Her baby. Her baby was alive.

Tears welled up, and then fell, hot and fast. Abram was no different. Abi’s breath came in short, ragged gasps as reporters shouted over each other in the background.

Abi heard nothing... her gaze focused on only Brianna’s face and scarred self. Abi could not even imagine the hardship that her girl had gone through to look like that, but one thing was clear...

"My pr-incess i-s al-ive!"

Clutching the edge of the TV stand, Abram screamed a sound caught between joy, disbelief, and months of buried anguish erupting at once. Tears fell freely, and he did not bother to clean them. Abram was too overwhelmed!

’This is not the time to cry, Abi!’

Abi scrambled for her phone.

There were numbers she had to call, people she had to see,... authorities she had to reach. But her hands kept shaking, and all she could do was sob into her palms, whispering, "Thank you. Thank you. Please... bring her home."

Just then, something clicked in her mind. Abram also remembered the same, just as ’ABODE’ flashed on the screen....

"Mr. Mush, you said this was the fee for ANY news on your daughter"

"... and we just told you that she is not dead. This is news, so what seems to be the problem?" Currey had said... and then the subsequent statement that they had ignored as nothing....

"Your bargaining chip is only good enough for the confirmation of life. You’ll have to have more leverage to get any other info, but since the Chairman is feeling extra generous, I’ll tell you this: ’Try looking into ... abode!’"

"IAN THORNSTON!!!!!!!!!"

*********

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