Reece pauses a moment and goes around the bar to draw himself a beer while the Emerald Isle crew snorts and laughs. After taking a drink, he continues. “I’m going to make this as short as possible. Stanton Studios runs a clear webpage dedicated to vanilla porn. They advertise on those pages a service where you can order ‘specific fetish porn.’ I created some fake credentials and contacted them to discuss some ‘specific fetishes’ I wanted them to act out and record. After they verified my credentials and some bitcoin was exchanged, I was invited to a special server that they host on the dark web. That server is where they make their real money, and where they do their real business. They are a group dedicated to sex trafficking, torture porn, and snuff films.”
“What, they just put all this shit on the internet, for anyone to see?” Roman asks. “How have they not been busted already?”
“The shit is on the internet, but not for just anyone to see,” Reece tells him. “As I said, you have to show credentials, pay a fee, and be invited to connect to their private server.”
“What kind of shit did you see on their server?” Verek interrupts.
“I created a backdoor to their server so that I could destroy it later, but I downloaded a copy of the entire thing, in case it was ever needed for legal reasons,” Reece replies with a casual shrug.
“Let me see what kind of shit they were doing,” Verek insists.
“I don’t think you want to do that,” Reece replies bluntly.
“Let him see just a bit,” Roman says. “He won’t shut up about it and this will drag on forever.”
“Do it,” Torin adds from across the room.
“Hold on.” Reece sighs, then waves Verek over to the laptop sitting on the back table. After digging through a computer bag hanging from the chair, he produces a USB drive which he plugs in. “Here,” he says after a moment, gesturing for Verek to take the chair. “There are all the files. They categorized them by victim name and date.”
Reece pulls a folder of papers out of his computer bag while Verek’s thick fingers drag around the computer’s touch pad, occasionally thumping on it to open a file. Reece brings the folder over to one of the tables in the middle of the room where several of his Emerald Isle brothers are sitting, and begins laying out a series of photos, still shots that appear to have been taken from videos.
“I want you all to get a good look at these faces,” Reece tells everyone as we gather around the table. “These are all men whose faces I was able to isolate from analyzing the video files. They were all involved in the rapes and murders of several women.”
As the pictures are picked up and passed around, Reece unfolds a much larger photo, an overhead shot of a large field, with an old, rickety farmhouse and several large metal outbuildings lined up nearby. “This is an overhead view of the area we’re going to be assaulting tonight,” Reece begins, before Roman interrupts him.
“How did you get this?” Roman asks. “This is a huge help. We were just going on a description Winston had given us.”
“I went out there with my drone,” Reece answers. “I was a long way away from the farmhouse, no one noticed me. I know what I’m doing,” he adds in a tone that brooks no arguments.
“As you can see,” Reece continues, “there is only one access road, this dirt trail leading up to the house. The surrounding area is flat and overgrown with tall grasses. I discussed with Roman and Torin earlier the first part of our plan. The access road is over a mile long. We’re going to pull our vans and bikes about halfway down, then Miles and I are going in on foot with our spotters.
“We’re going to assume positions here, and here,” he says as he jabs a thick finger at the map. “We’re the best shooters the Savage Kings have to offer. Miles will provide cover, while I seek out and neutralize those faces you’re passing around. Once we start shooting, all hell is going to break loose, and these men are probably going to try to either hole up inside the outbuildings or farmhouse, or flee into the fields. The rest of you are going to be assigned positions all around the field and given specific assignments. You will either be assigned to a building sweeping crew or be on standby to intercept any runners. Torin and Roman will give you your specific jobs. Understand?”
Reece straightens up to look around just as Verek appears behind him, laying a hand on his shoulder.
“Tessa’s on there,” Verek whispers, his voice so tight I almost don’t recognize it.
Reece nods. “A lot of women are on there. I don’t know Tessa, but if you do…I’m sorry.”
If his voice was unrecognizable, his face is even worse. Verek’s normal scowl has been replaced by a tight-lipped grimace, his jaw clenched so tightly I can hear his teeth grinding in the silence that descends upon the room as everyone stares at him. His eyes are shining with tears that he’s only holding back through an unimaginable force of will.
Roman steps in close to our brother. “You’ll be on one of the building sweeping teams. You’ll help Tessa put an end to this, tonight.”
Verek gives a stiff nod, then turns his back to us as he tries to regain his composure. “Winston, you’ll be with him,” Roman orders. “Don’t let him get himself killed.”
Once I nod my agreement, Roman leans over the table and picks up one of the photos.
He holds up the blown-up close-up photo I recognize as Joey Simpson for everyone to see.
“Our plan is to take everyone out except for him.” He holds up an enlarged photo of the dagger tattoo on his arm next. “We want to take this one alive. Do what you need to do to restrain him, but we want him breathing so he can talk while we beat every single name of anyone else who was involved in the kidnappings and rapes. Understood?”
Everyone nods or voices their agreement.
“We’ll take him to an old, rundown boathouse near the swamp and keep him there as long as it takes until he talks,” Roman explains. “Two of us will stay with him around the clock and keep him on his goddamn toes. I don’t want this fucker to eat or sleep until he squeals like a pig. We’ll rotate pairs every six hours, and I’ll text everyone the schedule. Let’s get creative in our torture techniques so the bastard never knows what to expect. But we keep him alive until we track down everyone he names, and we’ve killed every last one of them.”
Everyone in the room rumbles their agreement as they place the photos back on the table. “Make sure you’ve got your vests on under your leather, and leave your cuts here,” Roman orders. “Just wear your armor and nondescript clothes. The AR-15s are loaded up in the vans, along with the other rifles for our snipers and any other guns you might have brought. We’re going to ride to the location and park about half a mile out on that dirt road, then go in on foot as we discussed. We leave in fifteen minutes, and assuming we don’t hit any traffic, we should be there just after midnight.”
“Hopefully, they’ll be partying and drunk, make things easier on us all around,” I add as I grab my gear.
“Don’t care if it’s easy or not,” Verek growls from behind me. “We’re finishing this tonight.”