Price's rifle was ready, all senses heightened. He had to act quickly and silently to catch those bastards once and for all. The government had decided to make a gesture of goodwill and stop turning a blind eye to the rampant human trafficking; simultaneous operations were carried out across the country, and the guys from Task Force 141 were part of one of them.

The winding corridors of the closed theater, where a "private fashion show" was taking place — one that would showcase anything but clothing. Price clenched his teeth; he hated those bastards who valued themselves above others' freedom, just because they had millions in their bank accounts.

The team acted swiftly and precisely, seasoned by countless battles. Within three minutes, they surrounded and detained the repugnant fat cats, who were now being led out and loaded into tinted SUVs for interrogation and subsequent trial.

There was another important task left. Price sighed and handed his rifle to one of the officers to avoid further scaring the girls, who were already in shock. He approached a cage styled as a birdcage with thin bars coated in gold and knelt down beside it.

“Hey, it’s all okay now, you’re safe, there’s an ambulance right outside.”

Price effortlessly bent the bars and broke the cage’s lock, extending his hand to the girl, noticing her dilated pupils and labored breathing. He cursed in his mind all those responsible for doing this to them, to these poor women.

“Come on, darling, I’ll help you.”