Heavy Traffic Ch. 15

"However, the penetrations don't appear to have occurred all at once. Based upon the recurring instances of burnt tissue along the path of the penetration, there is evidence that whatever was used was repeatedly heated before the next insertion. These injuries are minor however to those resulting from the bullet that entered her vagina and travelled through her uterus, bladder, left kidney and left lung. Each of those organs was damaged beyond repair."

"She doesn't stand a chance, does she?" asked Amanda. The calm in her voice belied the grief she had been experiencing since Sean had shared with her how Mickey had been found and how dire her condition was. They had come directly to the hospital after landing and had spent over an hour trying to get someone to update them on Mickey's condition.

"She is obviously a fighter," replied the Doctor, "But there just simply aren't enough of her functioning organs remaining to sustain life for much longer."

"Has she regained consciousness?" asked Sean.

Rick Acosta shook his head in reply before the Doctor could provide additional details, "She is heavily medicated but not technically on life support due to the DNR she had in her personnel file. While there are no signs of brain damage, it is unlikely that she will regain consciousness. Any conscious periods that do occur will be very brief."

Amanda addressed Rick Acosta with her next question, "Has her family been notified?"

"Her parents are both deceased. She has a brother who is in the Navy and currently stationed in San Diego. He is expected to arrive in Atlanta within a few hours."

"I hope he's in time," said Amanda. "Can we see her?"

The Doctor considered the request for a few seconds before answering Amanda, "Policy is that only immediate family can visit a patient in the ICU, but since I have been told that you are a registered nurse, I will extend a professional courtesy and allow you to sit with her until her brother arrives."

"Thank you," said Amanda.

"Can we wait here or will you need this room for other consultations?" Sean asked. They had been occupying a small room outside the intensive care unit designed for private consultations between doctors and the family of patients in the unit.

"You're more than welcome to wait here," said the Doctor as he rose from his chair and opened the door for Amanda. As she stood, Sean and Rick Acosta also came to their feet. Sean gave Amanda a quick kiss as she passed him on her way out of the room behind the Doctor.

After the door had closed, Rick Acosta returned to his seat and waited for Sean to sit before speaking, "I didn't want to mention this in front of the Doctor, but Mickey did regain consciousness for a period of time during her transport here. The police officer on the helicopter with her noted that Mickey kept trying to communicate something, but had a lot of difficulty speaking."

"Did the officer understand what Mickey was trying to communicate?" asked Sean.

"She could only understand the words 'miner' and 'rhino'. Do they hold any significance for you?"

"Not to me. You?"

Acosta shook his head, "Nope, but I have someone running the names through every database available to try and identify something relevant to this case. It's a long shot, but it's the best we have unless Mickey is able to tell us more at some point."

"Anything new on who took her, killed Glen Parker and burned the cabins?" asked Sean.

"Nothing solid yet," replied Acosta. The tire tracks, bullet casings, and other evidence available are still being analyzed. Every informant in the area, regardless of the law enforcement agency who controls them, is being sought for any rumors or knowledge of who might have been involved. Someone will talk eventually."

***

Amanda would cry for Mickey later. At this time, she knew that she should remain as professional and detached from Mickey as the other nurses who scurried in and out of the room providing constant care and monitoring of Mickey's condition.

Beds in the ICU were surrounded with equipment for monitoring vital signs and sustaining life, so Amanda wasn't surprised to see that there wasn't a visitor's chair in the room. She found a position on the far side of Mickey's bed that would allow her to take one of Mickey's hands in hers, while remaining out of the way of the other nurses as much as possible.

The descriptions provided of Mickey's condition, first by Rick Acosta and then subsequently by the Doctor didn't come close to depicting the tortured woman Amanda gazed down upon. While most of her body was covered with a sheet, Amanda could clearly see the damage to Mickey's face, mouth, arms, and hands. It was not only quite obvious that Mickey had lost most of her teeth, and there were tell-tale signs that lit cigarettes had been pushed into her skin all along her arms, neck, and face. Amanda shuddered to think about what the rest of Mickey's body looked like.

Standing beside Mickey's bed and taking her right hand into her own, Amanda considered her feelings towards the woman lying so near to death before her. Amanda believed that Mickey and she could have become friends, though the closeness of their friendship would be predicated on Mickey's respect and acceptance of Amanda and Sean's love for each other, which the two women never really had the opportunity to discuss. She wanted to believe that Mickey would have acquiesced, and this faith warmed her affection for Mickey more than her sympathy for her current condition did.

Squeezing Mickey's hand, Amanda spoke softly, "Keep fighting Mickey. Sean and I will be here for you. Don't give up."

Over the past several weeks since she and the girls had been captured, Amanda had spent countless hours contemplating why some people had such a lack of regard for the lives of others. She had pondered why the old man who had been driving their bus was killed by the traders, even though he had offered them no resistance and presented no threat whatsoever. What possible benefit could the old man's death bring to the traders?

Amanda had not had much time to dwell on the death of the bus driver, because the threat to her own life was implied soon after the traders had brought them all to the holding location in Dili. She realized that financial benefit was significantly more important to these men than human life. While they never allowed Amanda to fully explain that someone would pay a ransom for the return of her and the girls, she did see the visual assessment that the leader of the traders made when he looked at her. Although the leader and probably most of his men could have used Amanda for their own pleasure, the promise of financial return for their restraint governed their decisions and subsequent actions.

From the time that she and the girls had been captured, human greed had been on the forefront of Amanda's thoughts. She felt no guilt over her own wealth, because she knew that her parents had earned their fortune fairly, through hard work and well-honed business skills. The charitable and benevolent ethos that her parents had instilled in she and her brother was what placed her at the orphanage to begin with. Now, with Sean by her side, they would continue to wisely and judiciously distribute portions of their wealth for the benefit of others.

Amanda's thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of pressure against the hand that was holding Mickey's. Glancing from the hand to Mickey's face, Amanda saw open, unfocused eyes.

"Mickey, squeeze my hand if you hear me," urged Amanda. After a brief pause, she felt a definite squeezing pressure in response.

Once more glancing from the joined hands to Mickey's face, Amanda saw her lips moving in an attempt to speak. Picking up a sponge swab in a glass of ice water next to the bed, Amanda gently rubbed the cool, water soaked sponge tip along Mickey's lips. Mickey brought her lips together in response to the cooling relief of the water, but soon started moving them again. Amanda leaned down to try and hear what Mickey was attempting to say.

"id el em gir," was all that Amanda could interpret from the whispered words Mickey was trying to form.

"Relax Mickey, everything is going to be okay," said Amanda in the most reassuring voice she could muster.

"I idn el em gir", stressed Mickey. Amanda saw from the change in monitor signs that Mickey was getting agitated trying to communicate the meaning of her message. Soon other nurses would be responding to the monitors. She had to try and calm Mickey down.

"Mickey, everything is alright. You are safe, Sean is safe, I am safe, the girls are safe...."

Suddenly, Amanda had an epiphany about what Mickey had been trying to say. "You didn't tell anyone where the girls were did you?

Mickey's eyes became more focused as she turned them to look directly into Amanda's "I idn el em girs."

Amanda gazed down at the tortured and broken body of a woman who was in this condition solely because she refused to divulge the location of twenty five young girls who she didn't even know. The courage of this woman amazed Amanda, since she doubted that she would have been able to endure the degree of torture that Mickey obviously had.

The tears streaming from Amanda's eyes prevented her from seeing the various monitors, but vision was not required to comprehend the meaning behind the multiple alarms that began sounding from them. Recognizing what was about to unfold, Amanda release Mickey's lifeless hand and moved to position herself away from the bed, closer to the door where her presence would not impede the actions of the medical professionals already streaming into the room.

As the first physician joined the nurse already surrounding Mickey's bed, Amanda heard, "There is a DNR on file, correct?"

"Yes Doctor," was the reply from one of the nurses, all of whom were busy verifying that none of the monitor connections to Mickey's body had come loose to cause the alarms.

The Doctor used his stethoscope against Mickey's chest to make the definitive call, "Time of death, 17:10." The nurses backed away from the bed, and Amanda exited the room to return to where Sean and Rick Acosta waited.

The tears streaming down Amanda's face told Sean and Acosta even more than her limited time with Mickey did. Sean folded Amanda into his arms before the door to the room had closed, and buried his face in her hair as she continued to mourn the death of Mickey, along with grieving over the greed and inhumanity which she knew had caused the death of this woman.

After several minutes, Amanda was able to speak coherently. She pulled back from Sean, and making certain that she had the attention of him and Rick Acosta she asked, "You know why they tortured her, don't you?"

"They obviously wanted information that they believed her to have," replied Acosta.

"What they wanted was the location of the girls," Sean added.

Amanda nodded and began crying anew as she said. "She didn't tell them. Mickey endured hours of the most unspeakable torture and never told them what they wanted to know."

"How can you be certain," asked Acosta.

Amanda's whispered reply, with her face tight against Sean's chest was heard only by him. He conveyed it to Acosta. "She told Amanda."

"Did she say anything more?" asked Acosta. "Like who did this to her?"

Amanda steeled herself once more and pulled back from Sean before answering, "All she said before she died was that she didn't tell them. She was difficult to understand, but her message was crystal clear. Mickey protected the girls to the end. I think she knew that these animals would kill her regardless..."

"To call these people 'animals' is an insult to all animals on this planet. No animal would purposely subject another to that type of torture," said Sean.

Rick Acosta's cell phone vibrated in his pocket. Turning away from Sean and Amanda, he answered it. Sean continued to hold and comfort Amanda until Acosta finished his call.

"Mickey's brother just arrived downstairs. I should go meet him and deliver the news," Acosta told them.

"Fine," said Sean. "Amanda and I will be leaving for Prestonwood, but I would appreciate you keeping me apprised of any new information you turn up on the names Mickey spoke on her way to the hospital."

Amanda looked at Sean questioningly, but resisted the urge to ask about what Mickey had said. She didn't want a discussion that could wait to delay their departure.

"Kirby has made it clear that you are to be kept informed on all intelligence we obtain," said Acosta. "When I know, you'll know."

"Thanks," said Sean. "I'll be speaking to my uncle in a few minutes and I'll make sure he knows how cooperative you are being."

Sean and Amanda walked silently through the hospital, holding hands and both maintaining a vigilant awareness of those around them. Amanda had reluctantly left Sean's gun in the car while they were in the hospital, and while she didn't feel threatened without it, she knew that she would take possession of it before she left the car again.

Sean opened the passenger side door for Amanda, but she didn't immediately take her seat. Instead, she embraced Sean with all her might and allowed him to use her body for the same comfort she was seeking from his. After several minutes of this silent, physical connection, Amanda assumed her position in the car and Sean closed her door. No words were spoken until they had passed the parking attendant booth and exited the hospital parking lot.

"Retribution can serve justice, Sean." Amanda seemed to be reading Sean's thoughts.

Just as with the pirates who had killed his parents and the film crew at Glen Parker's cabin, Sean knew that he couldn't allow the people who had tortured Mickey, subjecting her to the injuries that eventually killed her, to ever be able treat another person with such brutality. Deterring future atrocities did not fit any definition of "justice" that Sean knew of. He further believed that retribution for the actions of men was God's right alone, although God could employ righteous men to deliver his wrath if he chose to.

Where the people responsible for the torture and death of Mickey were concerned, Sean did not feel any divine "calling". He felt a responsibility to protect. To protect Amanda, protect the girls, protect his employees, and to protect the rest of humanity from the creature, or creatures that could do such things to another person.

"I know you're anxious to get back to Prestonwood and the girls, but I think we should make a quick stop at my house in Johns Creek first." Amanda simply squeezed Sean's hand several times in affirmative agreement as he explained his developing plans to her while they drove. By the time they reached their first destination, Amanda's grief was being eroded by a new and exciting sense of purpose. God, how she loved Sean Wallace!

***

Stephan Mota lived a life much less pretentious than DeMarcus Steele. He didn't need a display of material possessions and wealth to garner respect; He relied upon people respecting his business accomplishments - both legitimate and illegitimate, and if that didn't suffice, Stephan Mota was quick to use intimidation and fear to gain respect. A man's family could be his greatest treasure, but that also made it his point of greatest vulnerability.

Watching DeMarcus Steele entering the restaurant on one of the surveillance cameras in his office, Mota knew that intimidation and fear were not what made this man respect him. First of all, Steele had no close family that anyone knew about. Secondly, Steele's proud reliance upon intimidation to achieve his own perception of respect vanquished anyone else's ability to intimidate him. No, Steele respected him because Mota continued to demonstrate that he had intelligence resources that provided him with information that Steele and Kim could never match.

Mota didn't move up the ranks of some Hispanic gang to eventually assume control. He didn't have to kill off a rival to take the leadership position. Mota had merely stepped into a void created by the actions of others, and had never been challenged.

Rising from his desk and walking towards the door to his office, Mota reached it just as he heard a knock. One of his bodyguards stood outside the door between him and DeMarcus Steele, but he said nothing when the door was opened. Mota simply nodded to the bodyguard and he moved aside to allow Steele to enter the office. Mota silently gestured Steele to the large round dining table across the room that already had two glasses and a pitcher of Margaritas placed on it. Mota closed the door and followed his guest to the table.

DeMarcus surveyed the room as he turned to sit at the table, facing the door with his back to a wall. The two men were alone in the room, which DeMarcus always thought resembled some sort of master control room rather than an office befitting the leader of the largest Hispanic organized crime operation in the Southeast. In addition to the bank of video displays showing images from locations all over the metropolitan area that Mota liked to monitor, there were numerous computer displays, all currently with screen savers running to hide the information they may be showing.

Barely waiting for Mota to take his own seat at the table, DeMarcus began the meeting, "You said you had some information for me?"

Appearing to ignore the question from his guest, Mota poured Margaritas into both of the salt-rimmed glasses and slid one across the table to Steele. Raising his glass in silent salute, Mota took a drink and set the glass down on the table. DeMarcus took a sip of his own drink as he awaited a reply to his question.

"Yes, Mr. Steele I do have information for you, along with a little advice."

"Information I'll take. Advice I don't need."

"Unfortunately," said Mota, "You will not get one without the other. Please, enjoy your drink while we chat."

As stubbornly as a petulant child, DeMarcus defied the request and left his drink untouched as he stared back at Mota.

With a sigh of patience, Mota took another sip of his own drink and began, "Someone has stirred up a fire storm with the Feds recently, more specifically with the Immigration and Customs Enforcement agency in this area. My sources within the agency tell me that it began with a large human trafficking investigation in Southwest Georgia, expanded to the Atlanta area later the same day, and has now gone nuclear with the abduction of one of their own agents."

DeMarcus' expression revealed nothing as Mota continued, "Now, you know that many of my people maintain a very tenuous position where Immigration is concerned, and most rely upon me for support and assistance when their status in this country comes under investigation. Having the agency that I have to deal with on a daily basis in my business so, how do I say this... 'Distracted', presents me with several challenges. First, enforcement agents who would normally be more tolerant when interpreting the status of someone in this country illegally, will suddenly become very 'by the book'. This can result in parents with questionable legal status in this country being detained or deported, leaving their children as a burden for other family members or friends."

Stephan Mota actually had a law degree, and had been practicing immigration law for more than a decade before assuming leadership of all Hispanic organized crime in the greater Atlanta area. His popularity among immigrants, both legal and illegal, made him a champion for them in the community and helped disguise his abuse of these same people through extortion, drug smuggling, prostitution, and several other manipulations of their inability to report his actions to the authorities, including selling his own people into slavery and servitude when opportunities presented themselves.