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Payment will follow.
The world would understand them now.
These were not pilgrims. They were mothers and daughters, sisters and wives. Women and girls transported in darkness while those in power profited off their vulnerabilities.
I put the phone away. The people beside the road mattered more than the headlines.
Medics moved among the survivors with oxygen, water and blankets. Some women cried openly. Others sat without moving, staring at the burning container that had nearly become their grave.
One fought anyone who approached. A female officer stopped several feet away, lowered herself to the ground and placed a folded blanket between them. She waited. The woman eventually crawled forward and took it.
The second container held another eleven women. Its containers had not ignited. The remaining two contained records, cash, weapons and crates of passports separated by nationality.
Forty three women and girls had been hidden inside the convoy. Forty three people the Coccicos had tried to destroy rather than surrender.
Greco arrived an hour later in an armored vehicle. She crossed the road wearing a dark coat, stepping around bodies and shell casings without slowing.
Her gaze went first to the blackened container.
“What happened?”
“The driver triggered an incendiary charge,” Raze explained.
“Where is he?”
Raze glanced toward the body beside the cab.
Greco followed his gaze. “The survivors?”
A medic approached. “Forty three recovered. Four serious injuries. No confirmed deaths.”
No confirmed deaths. The words loosened something in my chest.
Greco informed us that twenty two arrests were confirmed and more were imminent.”
“The Coccicos?” I asked.
“Several lieutenants are in custody. Their offices and financial records have been seized.”
“The family leadership?”
“A warning reached the main residence less than two minutes before the tactical team entered. They found the security room burning. Everyone was gone.”
“You said your teams were clean.”
“Everyone was cleared,” Greco assured me.
I looked at the burned truck.
“Not thoroughly enough.”
Greco didn’t defend her team. She advised us their accounts had been frozen and border forces had their photographs, with every news service in Europe is publishing their names. Which should have been some consolation, but didn’t feel at all like a victory.
My phone vibrated. It was Adriana. I answered before the second ring.
“Demitri?”
Fear tightened her voice.
