[Dock 7, Port Shelby | 0615 Central Time, Day 2]
Mendez can only hear the waves crashing and the feeder ship creaking.
He and Foy had taken cover behind the multitude of shipping containers stacked on the ship's deck. Earlier, Mendez spotted two SUVs that showed up 10 minutes after he and Foy moored the ship to the pier. There was little doubt that those were BP SUVs.
Foy was hiding on the container stack opposite Mendez. The BP mercs are on the ship now, searching for signs of life. It won't take long until they find out something's gone terribly wrong.
Mendez nodded at Foy. The pair then went their separate ways, looking to ambush the BP team from different directions.
***
Foy had a gun slung over his back. A shotgun, he believes. Mendez had thought him how to reload it too.
But he won't need it for now. After all, the shotgun doesn't have a silencer attached.
He'd rather use his hands.
Foy crept up on the boarders, ducking into the narrow container hallway.
From the hallway, he spotted a BP merc. And another one. And another.
Three on his side. Better--
BANG!
That came from the other side of the ship. Must've been Mendez, thought Foy as he looked towards the source of the gunshot instinctively.
As he looked back, it turned out that the BP mercs were also looking at the source of the gunshot--towards where he was hiding!
Foy had been spotted. The BP merc closest to him raised his gun. But Foy was faster.
Before the merc can release a gunshot, Foy parried his gun away and punched him on the neck, momentarily cutting off his airflow and stunning him.
Foy peeked past the merc's shoulder. His friends are training their guns at him.
At least there's cover.
Foy made himself smaller and took cover behind the merc as he used him as a human shield while the other mercenaries opened fire!
From behind the merc, Foy started charging forward towards the mercs' position in an attempt to gain some ground.
Foy can feel it. One of the mercs has stopped firing. Reloading, perhaps?
He took a peek. The merc is now within striking distance.
With a swift motion, Foy swept his arm at the human shield's leg--picked him up, held him horizontally--and then hurled the human shield at the merc in front of him!
Both the merc and the human shield crashed on the deck with a loud thud as Foy shifted his attention to the third merc--
--who was within his arm's reach, aiming his gun at his face!
BANG!
The shot went astray as Foy deflected the muzzle off his way, grabbed the merc by the arm--
--threw him over his shoulder and punched his lights out as soon as he landed on the deck!
All clear on this end, it would appear. Now to check on Mendez.
***
BANG!
Smoke appeared from the muzzle of Mendez' M4.
He had taken down four BP mercs searching the ship.
Now, all that's left of BP's boarding party was the man standing in front of him at the edge of the feeder vessel by the docks, wearing a black long coat concealing body armor and a turtleneck underneath.
"Heya, Oakley," greeted Mendez as he pointed his M4 at the BP man.
"Fernandez," greeted Oakley back curtly, aiming his Beretta M9 back at Mendez in a standoff. "You know I won't talk."
"Oh, everyone talks in the end," said Mendez, gun still trained on Oakley as he approached the lone BP personnel. "Besides, I'm not the one about to have a word with you."
Oakley cocked his head, puzzled. "So, who then?"
And then as if on cue, Foy charged up on Oakley from his left and tackled him, throwing both of them off the ship!
The tackler and the tackled landed on solid concrete of the pier in a loud bone-crunching thud as Mendez looked on.
Foy ended up on top of Oakley, clearly bearing the advantage as he locked Oakley's right wrist, hyperextended his elbow joint and broke his right arm!
Mendez descended the metal staircase that connected the pier to the small container ship, looking at Foy's act of subduing Oakley.
"Selling people?" said Foy to Oakley as he stood up. "You disgust me."
Oakley coughed out blood as he lied spreadeagled on the concrete. "And you think that snake over there was completely innocent of all this? All those times we did all those shipments and what did he do?"
Foy looked at Mendez.
"Nothing!" laughed Oakley. "He did precisely nothing, same as you'll do nothing because there is nothing you can do to stop this!"
"I can do something," declared Foy. "Starting with you."
Foy looked back to Mendez, who has a shotgun in his hand. He tossed the gun over to Foy.
"Oho, what are you going to do, shoot me?" taunted Oakley as Foy pushed the gun against his face.
Mendez noticed Foy's grip beginning to shake, just like when he was on the ship.
"I always knew you're too soft," taunted Oakley even more as he pressed his face against the muzzle of the shotgun. "So it didn't come as a surprise to me when I found out you'd let that snake poison you. But sadly, even he couldn't get you to pull the trigger!"
Oakley cackled, seeing that Foy was going to let him live.
But beneath all the uncertainty storming in his mind, an image flashed in Foy's mind.
The hands stretching out inside that pitch-black container.
His grip hardened. The storm subsided.
Oakley's eyes were still locked to the shotgun muzzle as he cackled...
BANG!
...then he stopped. Foy pulled the trigger.
The BP merc's head was splattered against the concrete pier.
Foy tossed the shotgun aside as Mendez approached him.
"Like I said, you don't have to cross that line," reiterated Mendez.
Foy released his gaze from Oakley's corpse towards Mendez. "Why did you toss that gun, then?"
"Why did you catch it? More importantly, why did you pull the trigger?"
Foy let out a sigh. "I remembered those hands. All those people," he said. "I get this sick feeling remembering what I did on the ship, but then those hands appeared in my head. That's when I knew, I just can't let them get away with it."
Mendez looked at Warehouse DF3--Foy's headquarters warehouse--in the distance. "Well, you've made your choice. Crossing the line's never easy."
"Will I be able to live with it?"
"End of the day, that's up to you."
"How were you able to live with it then?"
"You ask me," answered Mendez. "There's always a reason. I stuck with mine and never let go."
"The reason being?"
"Someone needs to punish some people," answered Mendez lightly. "It might as well be me."
Foy let out another sigh. "What now?"
"Now that Oakley's no longer a problem, we can call the cops and have them sort this mess out," instructed Mendez. "Gotta free all we can free though. Your warehouse can take them until the cops arrive, right?"
Foy pulled out his phone. "I'm going to call some of the men down at the warehouse now, maybe they can help."
"Yeah," agreed Mendez. "Also, you know someone from the media that's ballsy enough to run this story?"
"Media?" asked Foy.
"Someone crazy enough to make an article out of this and get this story out there without any of that media corporation agenda BS," explained Mendez. "You know, the borderline-suicidal brave types."
Foy folded his hands. He got an answer to that.
"Do you know Rohanna von Saint?"
"I know the name," said Mendez. "Writes for VICE, right? Smuggled herself into Pyongyang and stayed there for a week unnoticed?"
"Correct," clarified Foy. "She's a freelancer now. Some months ago, she went to the fight club for a story and interviewed me herself."
"One crazy lady alright," nodded Mendez. "She'll definitely do. Call her."
[Dock 7, Port Shelby | 0815 Central Time, Day 2]
San Laureola PD swarmed the scene.
There wasn't a single idle SLPD officer in Dock 7. They were either busy extracting containers with the help of dockyard workers with heavy machinery, escorting the trafficking victims out of their confinement, interviewing them, accounting for them, identifying the multitude of dead bodies on the ship courtesy of Mendez and Foy's handiwork, or interviewing witnesses--two major witnesses, to be precise.
And in the midst of the hustle and bustle of the Dock 7 was a young woman in her late 20s scrambling around the docks with a notepad-and-pen combo attempting to interview every human being involved in the extraction operation.
Her brown hair was arranged into a medium-length bob cut that framed her elliptical face, which was covered in a fair complexion of alabaster color. Her rectangular, thick-framed glasses matched with her cheery but sharp green eyes that radiate a studious nature, which was complemented with a streetwise attire consisting of a royal purple t-shirt, navy jeans, black canvas sneakers, and a black fur parka tied around her waist.
And then came Mendez and Foy's turn as she fast-walked towards the pair while jotting down her notepad.
"Mr. Morrison!" she greeted Foy bubbly. "Thanks for the tip."
Mendez opened his mouth, but then stopped himself. Maguire, Morrison, whatever.
"And you must be Roque Mendez," said the eccentric journalist, shaking Mendez' hand after she was finished with Foy. Despite her relative petite appearance, Mendez noted she had a firm grip.
"I'm Rohanna. Pleased to meet you."
"Likewise," said Mendez. "I assume you want to ask us some questions?"
"Yeah, it's a big scoop. It's a major breakthrough on a story I've been digging up for a year now."
Mendez looked at Foy, then back at Rohanna. "You mean there's more to this?"
"Oh yeah, absolutely," nodded Rohanna. "People have gone missing, not to mention some suspicious activity in a shit-ton of places. At first, I thought this was just small-time, but turns out the entire operation is bigger than I thought."
"And how does this ship connect the dots?"
"That we're dealing with a human trafficking ring," confirmed Rohanna. "You know, the signs are all there. People disappearing from the streets, no-tell motels getting crowded outta nowhere, warehouses purchased under phony-ass company names--I mean seriously? EuroTrans Shipping Company? Who names their companies like that?"
Mendez cleared his throat.
"Anyways, these guys covered their tracks well. Every time the SLPD raid these spots, they're long gone. Poof. No evidence left behind whatsoever. Almost as if they're one step ahead of the cops. That is..."
"...until today," finished Mendez.
"Yup, until today, when the cops have hard evidence that whoever's behind this is, indeed, selling humans. It's quite literally the human element they need this whole time."
Mendez looked at Foy again. Turns out the journalist can be a lot more helpful than they thought.
"Right," said Mendez to the eccentric lady. "We're gonna tell you all you wanted to know, and in return..."
"...I'm gonna tell you all you wanted to know," said Rohanna. "Don't worry, I know how this works."
And they told her all she wanted to know.
Following Mendez and Foy's explanation, Rohanna rubbed her chin. "There might be an angle here..."
"Sorry?" asked Foy.
Rohanna refocused. "I got a theory, but I haven't got all pieces to the puzzle though," she said. "In the meantime, you guys can call me here if you guys need more intel."
The pair and Rohanna exchanged numbers.
"Trust me, when it comes down to lead on these guys, I got plenty of those," she said.
"We got some leads ourselves," said Mendez. "But we'll keep definitely keep in touch."
After Rohanna said her goodbyes and went elsewhere, Foy shifted his attention towards Mendez. "What kind of leads?"
Mendez brandished a smartphone in response, something he picked up long before the cops arrived. "Oakley's phone. Sui can crack this later, and if we find something too cryptic, we can ask Rohanna for additional intel. Sound good?"
"Sounds good," replied Foy.
"Now hold on to this, will ya?" instructed Mendez as he handed Foy the smartphone while he looked ahead.
As Foy took the smartphone off Mendez' hand, he shifted his attention towards what Mendez has been looking at.
Two well-dressed gentlemen with similar short spiked brown hairstyles, though Foy can tell that one was younger than the other.
"Roque Mendez?" said the younger one wearing a white polo shirt and jeans, as he flashed an SLPD badge. A police detective, it would seem. "I'm Detective McConley, and this is my partner, Detective Isaacs."
Mendez shook both detectives' hands. "How ya doin', officers?"
"We would like to ask you some questions," said Isaacs, who has a five o'clock shadow stubble. "If you'll follow us to the station, please."
It had just dawned on Foy. Both Mendez and Foy were people of interest, but Mendez would have attracted more attention to the police since he was involved in the earlier incidents at the cafe. There is also a chance that they knew about his past connection with BP. That's why Mendez had given Foy the smartphone; he knew someone from the police was going to take him for some questioning.
"Not a problem," said Mendez in a laid-back manner before gesturing Foy goodbye, leaving the former MMA fighter behind to deal with the massive dockside operation alone.