Chapter 573: Operation Alliance (2)

"I have a visual on firearms in the truck," said one of Damien's men—Rob from the Beta Team—at the port near the ASL shipping containers disguising as a dockworker.

"Copy that. We're going to need you to go the closest you can get, but do not engage," responded Damien from the trailer van.

There were several CCTV cameras on the holding area of the containers, but none that covered the part where the truck was, so the team could only rely on the cameras that their men had on them—hidden inconspicuously on their bodies. However, to get proper footage, they had to be closer to the scene. But it wasn't that easy because a few men were surrounding the trucks who were keeping a lookout.

With his back against one of the parked containers, Rob swiftly removed the pinhole camera hidden as a button on his shirt and carefully positioned it until it faced the truck several meters behind the container he was hiding from. "This is the closest I can get. Can you see anything?"

"Hold still. I'm running the plates," Styles muttered through the comms while his fingers danced on the keyboard. "Got it. The truck belongs to… John Smith—tch, he might as well have chosen John Doe. Fake records. Nothing on this person."

Keeping his eyes on the monitors, Damien ordered, "Alright. Proceed as planned, Rob. Keep an eye on the truck and pin the tail on the pony."

"You got it, Boss," Rob acknowledged.

Everyone connected to their communication line received Damien and Styles's update, so all of them got ready for when the truck starts to move.

The whole process took less than thirty minutes since the truck arrived—from positioning it near the holding area to transferring the 40-foot high cube container onto the back of the 18-wheeler truck. It was as if there was a silent rule that none of the workers were allowed to get near it as Rob didn't see any dockworkers he saw or met earlier that day. And just when the container had been put securely in place, the men surrounding it dispersed.

A security guard and the foreman came over, meeting the truck driver. Just when Rob thought that the two were going to confront the other for looking suspicious, the driver handed a wad of cash to them, in which they pocketed as if nothing happened before leaving the area.

"No wonder. The whole system is corrupt," Styles remarked, shaking his head.

Damien, whose family's underground business involved smuggling, couldn't comment on it. There were many shady things going on in this state, and it was the reason he left his uncle's care. After seeing it again like this, his jaw ticked.

The area was almost clear of people, and the driver headed towards the driver's seat. Rob rounded the cargos stealthily until he reached the back of the truck. Ever so casually, he stuck a small device under the fender of the back wheels and headed straight to the opposite side, leaving the holding area. "The tail has been pinned. Heading home," Rob informed.

Styles worked on his computer and confirmed, "The tracker is live. Everybody in position."

The team assumed their tasks and watched through the small monitor on their dashboard as Styles projected the tracker's feed, allowing everyone to see where the truck was heading. Some groups traveled on the same path as the truck, while the others moved through another road that was parallel to the truck's path.

Chris and Amelia, who were in the same group, were closer to the truck. But they made sure not to tail them suspiciously. They just needed to make sure that they were still able to see the truck physically from a distance without actually being very close to them. Precautions were what they needed—after all, they were possibly dealing with Shadow here.

Their brows drew together when they saw the truck entering the freeway and heading out of Harbor City. Just where the hell were they going? Without knowing where the trucks were headed, they could just hope that it wasn't a very long distance.

Styles and Damien, who were in a trailer van, also headed in the same direction as the other groups who entered the freeway. Something about this whole thing gave Damien a bad feeling, especially that Katherine was in Harbor City while the rest of the team were already an hour away.

"I don't like this…" Damien muttered under his breath.

At this moment, they couldn't do anything else except follow the truck. Finally, after two hours of driving, the truck exited the freeway and entered a road that's going towards the north of Esmea.

"Where are they heading? There's nothing there," Styles commented as he searched the area.

Just as it started raining, Amelia's voice came through the comms, "Everyone park. The truck just turned towards a dirt path. Chris and I will continue moving forward, but everyone else has to wait. Damien, you can commence the next step."

Damien and Styles nodded at each other and contacted Director Hughes who had been on standby the whole time.

Chris and Amelia ever so cautiously drove down the path with tall trees on the side, following the tracker on the small screen. They could no longer see the truck in front of them as they decided to stay out of sight. There were very few cars on the road and if they followed them like they had been doing earlier, they would definitely notice. So they had to wait for half a minute before entering the dirt road. After a couple of minutes, they spotted the truck again from a distance—it was now parked on a clearing.

With binoculars, Amelia and Chris could see the activity from where they were. But because of the rain and the distance, it was harder to see this time. Several meters away from the truck was a parked bus with several men in tactical outfits, carrying firearms surrounding it. Chris and Amelia exchanged a look of bewilderment as they didn't know what to expect. Pulling their car out of the road, they hid it behind the trees, covering it with branches and leaves until it was no longer visible from the dirt road.

Then the two hurriedly went closer towards the truck on foot, careful not to attract attention, leaving a trail of footprints on the mud as they trod forward. There was a good fifty-meter distance between them and the truck and bus in the middle of the clearing when they stopped. Amelia and Chris hid behind large trees and observed.

Pressing a finger to her earpiece, Amelia reported, "There are fifteen men on the clearing. Ten of them are wearing tactical outfits with no marks except for one that said 'POLICE'. While the rest wore civilian clothing, including the driver of the truck."

"What are they doing?" Styles's curious tone sounded from the comms just as a camouflage drone arrived above Amelia and Chris's head. The two looked up and then looked away, knowing that it was Styles controlling the drone.

The men on the clearing were casually talking and smoking cigarettes as if they were on their breaks. The rain continued to fall and began to pour heavily. One of the men in a tactical outfit spoke to someone on the phone, and as soon as it ended, he turned to face his comrades and gave everyone a signal.

The men moved around the field as if looking for a specific location. The men in tactical outfit remained standing while the rest laid on the grass—some facing down and some facing away from the truck. Then... the men with the guns fired several shots while pointing the sky and away from the clearing.

"What the hell!" Styles cursed.

Amelia and Chris docked and covered their ears as they continued to watch them. At first, they were baffled why the men were so bold enough to fire the shots, but after Styles rechecked the map, he confirmed that within a three-mile radius, there were no houses or any areas that were inhabited. It was also raining; thereby, the sound was masked.

The firing of shots lasted for more than ten seconds. And as soon as it was over, two men went towards the shipping container and began opening it.

Everyone's heart raced as they watched closely. Amelia gasped when the container's door was opened. What they saw inside was not what they expected. Inside the shipping container were children in dirty clothes who were just around eight to ten years old, shivering and cowering in fear.

Amelia turned her head to look at Christopher next to her who was in complete shock as he watched the scene before them. Even with no one speaking through the comms because of shock, those who heard about what happened to Chris and his sister linked it to what was currently happening. Everything made sense now.