Cliche

Three operatives took a bus with the twenty one women to a remote airstrip, and flew back to the U S with them in two private planes. The rest of us laid low until the next night when we would approach the second whorehouse.

Both Bridget and I had uneasy feelings as we approached the second whorehouse at 3 a. m. the next day. Rock did not have similar issues. Despite Bridget's order to hold up for a further assessment, Rock and Jeremy approached the building from the back.

Just before all hell broke loose two other operatives – who had been searching surrounding buildings – said over our secure communication system that they had located what appeared to be about two dozen women guarded by only three guards in a building a hundred meters or so away from the whorehouse. Despite getting that message, for some reason Rock and Jeremy approached the back of the whorehouse anyway.

The automatic weapons fire coming from the whorehouse was heavy. We saw both Rock and Jeremy go down. In view of the report about the location of the women and what happened to Rock and Jeremy we did not play nice. Eight of us used our AKMs with GP-25 - 40 mm underbarrel grenade launchers to launch grenades to the buildings from three sides, and then rushed it.

The firefight in the building was intense, but didn't last long. We had night vision goggles and had taken out the generator powering the building before we entered. Ten traffickers inside that hadn't been killed by the grenades (eighteen had been) were killed, most by Bridget and I as we swept through the building to avenge what was either Rock's death or serious injury.

The two operatives that had found the women executed the three guards with suppressed gunfire. Bridget went to the women while I went to find Rock.

Jeremy was seriously injured but would survive. Rock was not so lucky. I got to him while he was still semi-conscious. He smiled at me. "You're my best bud ever," he coughed out. "Get out of this business before you and your special lady get killed too," were his dying words in my arms.

I carried Rock's body over my shoulder to a waiting Humvee – not easy to do since he outweighed me by about fifteen pounds – with tears in my eyes. The only reason that I had the strength to do that was because of the adrenaline high I was on.

Bridget came up to me after I deposited Rock's body in the Humvee, and we hugged tightly. Then she snarled "That bitch that we let go last night warned the traffickers; how she could do that I don't know, but I will beat it out of her back at Traffic Stop," she snarled again.

It took four private planes to get all the operatives, the twenty eight women (twenty seven victims and the bitch), and Rock's body back. Fortunately, Rock was the only operative killed; in addition to Jeremy's serious wounds two other operatives had relatively minor wounds.

Within two months we had returned to their families all of the victims we rescued in the two Mexican whorehouse raids that wanted to go back to families. Those that didn't want to go back or who had no place to go were given jobs and relocated by several different charities that we worked with. I let Bridget handle the bitch that had caused Rock's death. I never asked what ultimately happened to her but I am very certain that she will not be responsible for anyone else's death in the future.

***************

After another year and a half-dozen more adventures together, I talked Bridget into following Rock's dying advice. We now run our own business in Phoenix renting and selling portable generators and both light and heavy construction equipment – quite a departure, although a welcome one, from putting our lives on the line every month – with twelve full time and six part time employees.

Bridget and I now have three kids. Our oldest is an eight year old daughter that looks as beautiful as her Mom (although without dichromatic eyes) and though as sweet as can be doesn't take shit from anyone and has already bloodied the nose of a fat ass nine year old boy bully. We also have five year old twin boys who are hellions but who I have vowed I'll bring up not to be jerks like their father was the first twenty three years of his life. Bridget and I are more in love than ever; I do believe that I am among the happiest men on the planet, if not the happiest.

I guess that this story wasn't a cliché after all!