WE SAT AROUND IN THE yacht and hatched a plan over beer and pizza. I had less than four weeks to find her. Four weeks until our leave was over and we deployed to the Middle East for six months. By then she would be lost forever. And so would I. There was no more room for errors.

Kyle always tried to take charge. “It’s easy. Let’s go and ask around town until someone talks. Or we can ask Dave for help. He knows this area.”

“It’s not that easy.” I took a swig of my beer and studied the breaking waves. “I don’t want to involve Dave unless we have to. He’s a local. We can’t raise suspicion. They could kill her if the wrong person found out.”

Vic nodded in agreement. “We contact the FBI, go through the channels. That’s the best way.”

Kyle and I exchanged a glance. I’d already informed Vic that telling the FBI wasn’t an option. Especially now—I’d wasted enough time.

“I fucked up. I should’ve told you guys the night I met her. We could’ve gotten her the next night when I went back. Now it’ll be on my shoulders if she ODs or winds up murdered in a ditch.”

Kyle placed a reassuring hand on my back. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. We had to get back on the ship that night. And we didn’t have access to our weapons. What the fuck could we have done? Save her and then drop her off somewhere? And don’t be such a fucking pussy. She didn’t get moved because you came back. They move these girls all the fucking time.”

I knew that, she’d even told me that. But I hadn’t listened. Too cocky, and now I didn’t have a fucking clue where she was.

I stood up. “Let’s go.”

I didn’t have to explain myself. Vic and Kyle pounded back their beers, polished off their pizza, and we left.

We weaved in and out of the underbelly of Aruba. Must’ve hit up a dozen more brothels. It was so fucking depressing. I wanted to get hammered so I didn’t have to deal with the guilt I felt for hiring Annie. How could I have ignored her suffering? Even if she hadn’t been trafficked, I realized now that visiting any of these brothels was so wrong. My mom would be disgusted with me. Some of the prostitutes couldn’t have been older than fourteen. The older ones reeked of desperation. Dead eyes, bruised bodies, drugged minds.

There was no sign of Annie.

At all of these brothels, I never recognized any of the other girls who’d worked with Annie. I knew they couldn’t have all just vanished into the night. They had to be somewhere.

At the next brothel, Kyle disappeared into one of the rooms with a girl. He said he was going to ‘take one for the team’ so we didn’t arouse suspicions.

When he emerged from the room, he had a big smile on his face.

“Was she that good?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t know. I couldn’t bear to fuck her, in case she was another American sex slave. Just gave me a hand job. Not half bad but I do a better job myself. Anyway, I told her I had fucked this amazing whore at the brothel that had burnt down. She said she’d heard a bunch of girls were just moved to Curaçao.” He smirked. “Told you I’d take one for the Team.”

I pressed my palms downward on my pants; this time I didn’t want to be overly confident. The cool Caribbean breeze calmed my mind. Annie had mentioned she’d been transferred to Curaçao once. Made sense that she might be back there now.

Curaçao was a mere island away.

Pictures of Annie in various situations raced through my mind. Annie being raped by some sweaty fat ass with tentacle hands and bad breath. Annie shooting up and stoned out of her mind on the dirty floor of a dark room. Annie being beaten by an overenthusiastic pimp with a heavy hand and no one to protect her. Annie crying alone at night because she’d finally given up hope that I would find her.

Over the years, I’d participated in many missions. Accomplishing them gave me a great sense of pride for my country, but I’d never felt as connected to a mission as I did to this one. I was meant to be in the brothel that night, to choose her, to ask her name. Even my ex-fiancée cheating on me led me to that moment, that decision, because if she had been faithful, I would be married to her and would’ve never set foot in a brothel. I may have many character flaws, but cheating was not one of them.

As we made our way toward the dock, I breathed in the crisp island air. The stars illuminated the ocean. When was the last time “Star” saw stars? Maybe wherever she was, she had a small window with a glimpse into the night. I closed my eyes for a second and focused on her soul, willing her to feel my presence.