Rachel lifted her head, her eyes wide with terror.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

“I’m Dante Moretti,” I said, stepping inside and closing the door behind me.

I kept my gun lowered but ready.

“Dante?” she said, her voice cracking. “Eli… is Eli okay?”

“Eli is safe,” I said. “He’s with my people.”

A tear ran down her cheek, leaving a clean track through the dust on her skin.

“Thank God,” she sobbed. “Oh, thank God.”

I walked over to her and knelt down.

I used my pocket knife to slice through the heavy ropes binding her wrists to the pipe.

She rubbed her wrists, her skin red and chafed from the fiber.

“They’re taking them tonight,” Rachel said, her voice urgent. “The boat is supposed to leave as soon as the storm clears, but they’re moving them to a truck first.”

“Where is Kane?” I asked.

“He was here an hour ago,” she said. “He was on the phone with someone. He said the cargo had to be cleared before the police harbor patrol changed shifts.”

I looked at the children.