Alana Albertson - Invincible

But I still wasn’t convinced yet that the prostitute was who she said she was. I didn’t want to stake my career on a maybe.

I studied a few more websites. Her parents had made www.findannie.com.

There were childhood photos, lists of sightings, news articles, links to television programs.

There was a letter begging for her return posted from Chris with pictures of the happy couple.

Then a photo caught my eye.

The tattoo on her ankle.

That little cartoon alien. So that’s why she made sure I saw it. Just in case I was the man she thought I was.

The words of The Navy SEAL Code, our warrior creed, echoed in my head.

“In times of war or uncertainty there is a special breed of warrior ready to answer our Nation’s call.

A common man with uncommon desire to succeed.

Forged by adversity, he stands alongside America’s finest special operations forces to serve his country, the American people, and protect their way of life.

I am that man.”

Fuck.

The girl from last night was Annie. I was certain.

I clicked on another picture.

Yup—the scar on her shoulder. She’d shown me that also.

My heart beat rapidly in my chest, my jaw clenched.

Dammit, why did I run out of there last night instead of talking to her? Because I didn’t believe her—that’s why.

Why hadn’t anyone rescued her? She was an American for Christ’s sake! This wasn’t a fucking movie. There weren’t FBI and CIA agents on the ground in Curaçao searching for kidnapped Americans, especially since there was no proof that she had been abducted. Any sightings of her would first be passed to the local police, which were corrupt as fuck. Her parents could’ve hired one of the many contractor groups filled with former SEALs who did this shit for a living.

U.S. Navy SEALs could rescue her. I could rescue her.

There was a three hundred thousand dollar reward for her safe return. But I didn’t want any money. If I saved her, I had to remain anonymous. Any hint of an active duty Navy SEAL going rogue would ruin my career on the Teams.

I glanced back at her pictures. Man, she’d been beautiful. Could’ve been my high school sweetheart. She was half Latina, looked almost like a young Wonder Woman. Her black hair had been shiny, her hazel eyes had been bright. A soccer star, a prom queen, a little girl in pigtails. And I had treated her like she was a piece of trash.

Fucking traffickers. Most Americans were completely oblivious to the sex trade. They thought it only happened in third world countries. But girls were kidnapped off the streets in middle America, and forced to service assholes like me. I wanted her to be just another piece of ass that I could use and forget, but the pain in her eyes reminded me too much of my own hell.

What the fuck was I going to do? Tell my men? Ask my command? It wasn’t that easy. Everyone thinks that Navy SEALs are above the law—that we can do whatever we please without any consequences. Like that ridiculous story that one of our snipers shot and killed two civilian men and wasn’t even brought in for police questioning. Bullshit. There’s protocol, and busting into brothels was way out of our jurisdiction. I’d have to talk to my commanding officer. He’d send me to Captain’s Mass for going to a brothel. Any rescue attempt would have to be cleared with the FBI and CIA. There would be an investigation to see if she was who she said she was. They might set up a sting operation. And the cops in Curaçao were crooked and could tip off her pimp. If her pimp had any inkling of what was going on, he’d probably kill her without a second thought.

And I wasn’t going to let that happen.

All those prostitutes in that whorehouse were probably trafficked from somewhere, but I couldn’t save every whore in the place. It would cause an international incident; most of them were probably from Eastern Europe or Central and South America. But I’d be damned if I let Annie, or any other American trapped there, spend one more day than they had to in that hellhole. Other men didn’t get why I hadn’t shed a tear when I found out that my fiancée had cheated on me. But the national anthem? ‘The Star Spangled Banner’ had me bawling like someone shot my dog. I watched my buddies die protecting our county’s freedoms. And I’d lay down my own life before I let some traffickers steal Annie’s life.

She was now twenty-three, two years younger than me. I thought being away from my friends and family during my deployments was bad, but at least I had volunteered to take this job. Living for five years in a foreign country as a sex slave was unimaginable.

“My loyalty to Country and Team is beyond reproach. I humbly serve as a guardian to my fellow Americans always ready to defend those who are unable to defend themselves.”

Enough men had used her and then abandoned her; I wasn’t going to be one of them.

Vic made his way through the tangled maze of hung over SEALs in our sleeping quarters to talk to me. “Want to get dinner?”

If I flaked on them two nights in a row, they’d know I was up to something. “I can’t. I’m going to get a massage.”

Kyle’s head popped up in his rack. “As long as it includes a happy ending, I’m in.”

These men were my best friends—I didn’t want to lie to them. We’d saved each other’s lives more times than I cared to remember.

“No can do, I’m already late. I’ll be back in a bit and we’ll go out.” I slipped a watch on my wrist and left the ship.

I had to see Annie before they shuffled her to another brothel and I lost the opportunity forever. My goal was to assess the situation, case the building, and size up her captors, so I could plan a mission. I had to see her again—I needed to be one hundred percent sure that the girl with the hollow eyes really was Annie.

Would the pimp get suspicious if I came back two days in a row? I doubted it. If she, Annie, had survived five years, she must’ve gained their trust. They probably thought she was so strung out that she wanted dope more than she wanted her old life back. That’s how these lowlifes worked—strip these girls of their identities.

But she’d told me her name. She trusted me. And I’d walked away from her.

Some hero.

The streets seemed less bright today. I had actually looked forward to my Team’s mission in the Caribbean waters. Curaçao was a better destination than Afghanistan, as far as I was concerned. But now I’d rather be roasting in the mountains, than investigating the underbelly of this paradise.

I stopped by a tourist shop. Purchased some water, snacks, lotion, and a dress for Annie. Also bought her a small necklace, which I placed in my pocket.

The same Columbian man found me on the street. “Sailor, you had good time? Welcome back, my friend.”

I hated the way these vipers called me friend . I wondered if he even knew Annie was American. Often these girls were traded to other pimps, so he might not even know who she was, if she kept her cover. Even though he carried a rifle around his shoulders, I could take this fool in a second even without my weapon.

I followed him back into the brothel. He was about to ring the bell but I stopped him. “I want the same girl I had last night.”

“Star? Sure, sure. How about two girls? I give you a good price.”

I shook my head. “Nope, one will do. ‘Star’ did a good job.”

“What’s in the bag?”

I opened it up. “Some food, water, clothes, lotion. I wanted her to dress up for me and smell good. How much for an extra hour? I’m heading back out to sea tomorrow.”

He rummaged through the bag, and then squinted his eyes. “I give her to you for two hours free, for your watch.”