Chapter 19: The Trap
The dark basement of the abandoned warehouse was suffused with tension. Dust swirled in the air, illuminated by the faint, flickering light from the single bulb that hung overhead. Francis, pacing slowly near a table covered with surveillance equipment, ran a hand through his hair. The plan was set, the trap meticulously laid. They had been planning this for weeks—an operation so intricate that one wrong move could blow everything apart.
Across the room, Loraine and Conrad stood together, Conrad leaning against a concrete pillar, arms folded, his jaw clenched. Loraine sat on an old metal chair, bouncing her leg anxiously, eyes darting between Francis and the room's exit. They both knew this was their best shot at taking down the illegal organ transplant syndicate once and for all, but the risks had never felt higher.
"This is it," Francis said, breaking the silence.
"We’ve made all the necessary moves. The syndicate thinks they’re about to make the deal of a lifetime. If we do this right, we can get them on record making a trade and expose their entire operation. But it has to go perfectly."
Loraine swallowed hard.
"And if it doesn’t?"
Francis met her gaze, his expression serious.
"If it doesn’t… they’ll know we’re onto them, and they’ll disappear. Worse, they’ll retaliate. And we don’t know how far they’ll go to keep their secrets."
Conrad stepped forward, his eyes narrowed.
"We can handle it. Just tell us what we need to do."
Francis exhaled slowly, nodding. He motioned to the small table where a series of recording devices were laid out. "Here’s how it’s going to work. The deal is happening in that warehouse down by the docks. You two are going in as medical staff—posing as part of their team. They’ll think you’re just there to oversee the organs before the trade. I'll be monitoring from outside with a backup team, ready to move in once we have the evidence."
Loraine’s heart raced.
"And what if something goes wrong?"
"If something goes wrong," Francis said grimly, "you get out of there. Don’t try to be heroes."
Loraine nodded, though her hands were shaking. She glanced at Conrad, who caught her eye and gave her a small, reassuring nod. "We’ve got this," he said quietly. 
Francis handed them each an earpiece, explaining the setup.
"These will keep us connected. Once you’re inside, you need to keep calm, act like you belong. The second you see or hear anything incriminating, I’ll be ready to move in."
Conrad clipped the earpiece in place, his face grim but focused. "Understood."
Loraine did the same, her heart thudding in her chest. She’d been through life-or-death situations before, but this was different. This wasn’t just about saving a life in the back of an ambulance—this was about taking down a criminal empire. It felt massive, terrifying.
"Alright," Francis said, grabbing his jacket and pulling it on.
"It’s time."
---
The dockyard was eerily quiet when they arrived, the only sound the soft lapping of the water against the pier and the occasional creak of old wooden beams. The warehouse loomed in the distance, a hulking structure hidden in the shadows. Loraine’s breath hitched as she looked at it. This place, where so many lives had been stolen through illegal organ trades, held a suffocating darkness.
Conrad parked their van in an inconspicuous spot, far enough away that they wouldn’t raise suspicion but close enough for a quick getaway if needed. Loraine could see the tension in his posture as they walked toward the warehouse entrance. She mirrored his calm exterior, but inside, she was fighting the rising tide of fear.
"Remember," Francis’s voice crackled through the earpiece, "act like you belong. You’re just there to verify the organs. They won’t suspect you if you stay cool."
Loraine took a deep breath as they approached the entrance, where a man stood guard. He eyed them warily for a moment before nodding and letting them through. Inside, the warehouse was dimly lit, with large crates and surgical equipment scattered around. In the middle of the room, a group of men, some in suits, others in scrubs, were huddled together, speaking in low voices. One of them—the leader, Loraine assumed—looked up as they approached.
"You’re the new team?" he asked, his voice gruff, suspicious.
Conrad nodded, his face impassive.
"That’s right. We’re here to check the goods before the trade."
The leader eyed them for a moment longer before motioning toward a metal table. "There. Take a look. We don’t have all night."
Loraine’s hands shook slightly as she approached the table, where a cooler was placed. She swallowed, opening the cooler to reveal a fresh organ—human, still packed in ice. Her stomach turned, knowing that this was someone’s future, stolen from a patient who probably never had a chance.
Conrad stood beside her, his eyes scanning the room, making sure they weren’t being watched too closely.
"Everything looks… intact," he said, his voice steady. But Loraine could feel the tension radiating off him.
They needed more time. Francis hadn’t given the signal yet.
"How long until the buyer gets here?" Loraine asked, her voice as casual as she could make it.
"Not your concern," the leader snapped. "You just make sure everything’s ready when they arrive."
Loraine tried to suppress the tremble in her hands as she adjusted the organ inside the cooler, her mind racing. They needed something more—proof of the exchange, evidence of the corruption. But how were they going to get it without blowing their cover?
Suddenly, the door to the warehouse creaked open, and two more men entered. One of them was carrying a large briefcase—the buyer. Loraine’s pulse quickened as the leader gestured for the cooler to be brought forward.
Conrad shot her a quick glance, silently urging her to keep calm.
"The organs are ready," the leader said, nodding to the buyer. "Do you have the payment?"
The buyer smirked, setting the briefcase on the table and opening it to reveal stacks of cash. "Everything as agreed."
Loraine’s stomach churned. This was it—the moment they needed. The entire transaction was happening right in front of them.
"Francis," Conrad whispered through his earpiece, barely moving his lips. "You getting this?"
"Every word," Francis replied. "Stay sharp."
Just as the cooler was being handed over, one of the guards frowned, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Loraine and Conrad. He tilted his head, then stepped forward, grabbing Loraine by the arm.
"Who are you?" he demanded, his voice suddenly harsh. "I don’t recognize you."
Loraine’s heart leaped into her throat, panic threatening to overtake her. She glanced at Conrad, who subtly stepped forward, his muscles tensing.
"We’re with the medical staff," Conrad said evenly, though his hand was already inching toward the small blade hidden in his jacket.
The guard didn’t look convinced. "Something’s off—"
Before he could finish, Conrad acted, whipping out the knife and slashing at the guard’s arm. The man cried out, clutching his arm as blood spurted from the wound. Chaos erupted. The buyer slammed the briefcase shut and bolted for the door, while the leader yelled for his men to grab their weapons.
"Loraine, run!" Conrad shouted, grabbing her hand.
They sprinted toward the exit, dodging bullets as they ran. Francis’s voice came over the earpiece, frantic. "Get out! Backup’s on the way!"
Conrad shoved open the door, and they burst out into the cold night air, the sound of sirens wailing in the distance. Loraine’s heart pounded as they darted through the alley, gunfire still echoing behind them.
They had the evidence, but now they had to survive long enough to expose the truth.
---
In the safety of the van, Loraine collapsed against the seat, her heart still racing. Conrad sat beside her, breathing heavily, his face lined with worry.
"We did it," Loraine whispered, her voice shaky.
Conrad nodded, gripping the steering wheel tightly. "Yeah. But this is just the beginning."
They knew they had just made themselves enemies of a powerful syndicate. And the real fight was only just starting.