The hotel lobby was surreal: no workers, no one behind the front desk, nobody checking in for the night.

Marcus knew that the building was full of people; muffled sounds of movement and voices filtered through the ceiling into the silent, lifeless lobby.

As the undercover agent prepared to board the elevator with his small group, he finally met the first inhabitant of this strange place: a young woman.

Marcus tried to dispel the foreboding atmosphere by striking up a conversation, but her expression was as vacant as the lobby. “She was there, physically in front of me, but her soul was lost, and she was broken,” remembered Marcus.

Maintaining his cover took effort; Marcus’ heart shattered at the thought of what had been happening to that girl, and he felt physically sick.

He stepped out of the elevator into a scene from a horror movie.

The air felt stale and lifeless. The hallway in front of him was utterly soundless. But it was the evidence of all the silent residents that really put him on edge. “I looked down the hallway, and saw all kinds of women’s shoes (outside the rooms),” explained Marcus. “But I heard no voices, almost like they knew what was awaiting them… hoping their number wasn’t called for the next customer to use them for pleasure.

Getting past security

After weeks of trying, Marcus was finally inside the compound. The building looked like any other hotel in Cambodia, but was actually a front for a large human trafficking operation. Marcus and other Destiny Rescue agents had made multiple attempts to gain entry, but security was too tight. The traffickers catered to a specific clientele of foreign nationals, and our local team members didn’t look the part.

Frustrated but determined to find a way to help the victims, the team met at a nearby restaurant to plan their next move. While there, they noticed some foreign workers at the bar, having drinks and shooting pool. Our lead operative instructed some of the team members to approach the men and attempt to befriend them.

The plan worked. Soon, our undercover agents were shooting pool and laughing with the increasingly inebriated foreign workers. For three hours, our agents built trust with the men until they finally opened up about establishments they liked to visit to “get some girls.”

One of our agents took the opportunity to suggest that the group check out the target location. With the proper escort, our agents were able to gain entry to the forbidding hotel.

The auction block

That had been a few days ago. Today, Marcus’ mission was to confirm that victims were being sold for sex. After that, he could secretly signal the police to raid the building.

Marcus, the foreign workers, and another rescue agent were ushered down the foreboding hall and into an improvised conference room.

Lively music helped lighten the oppressive atmosphere of the preceding hallway, and the air was tinged with the smell of cigarettes. Classically audacious hotel carpet ran up to a low stage against one wall, lit by blue LED lights and hastily decorated with fake plants. Above a backdrop of gaudy blue tiles, a digital sign forbade the use of photography.

Marcus noticed security guards watching their every move as he and the others were seated at low tables facing the stage. A handler appeared at the corner of the stage, leading a group of girls and young women to stand on the low platform before the watching men. Marcus was struck by the handler’s casual professionalism, who acted as if this were just any other ordinary Tuesday for her.

The victims, however, were different.

The victims were displayed like objects for sale

Their body language was nervous and uncomfortable, with feet together, hands clasped in front of them or arms crossed. They shared that disconnected, vacant expression of the girl in the elevator.

Victims of extreme trauma often learn to escape within their own minds, especially just before or during horrific events, as a way to distance themselves from the indignities they suffer in the flesh.

The fact that Marcus was witnessing their dissociation meant that these victims had likely suffered abuse again and again.

The handler’s treatment reinforced the fact that these young women were nothing more than products to her. She listed each person by nationality, followed by a dispassionate, lewd physical description. No names were offered for these precious souls. In Marcus’s words, they were displayed and listed “like cattle to be sold.”

Maintaining his cover, Marcus chose a victim who spoke some English. Marcus paid for the young woman, effectively cementing the case against the traffickers.

Once money changed hands, the trafficker ignored the victim completely, uncaring of what happened next. Marcus made small talk with the victim as he waited for the police to raid.

Police storm the building

The time finally came. Outside their room, Marcus heard a commotion as police burst inside. The girl panicked at the noise and bolted for the window. Marcus barely caught her before she attempted to jump the three stories to the ground below. He did his best to comfort the survivor until officers entered the room and pretended to arrest Marcus (to maintain his cover), and took the girl to safety.

That young lady, along with the 21 other victims, has a long road to recovery ahead of her. Her dreams, her autonomy, and even her name had been stripped away—though her inherent value as a human being could never be.

People aren’t products. When our rescue agents walk into these unimaginably dark places, they are the only people who see the victims as bright, eternal souls of inestimable worth.

When asked how he deals with working in such dark situations, Marcus was quick to credit God: “My faith in God gives me strength when things feel heavy or overwhelming. I know he has placed me here for a reason, and he would not have put me in this position if he did not think I was strong enough to handle it.”

Marcus went on to say that, while he’s grateful for his part in the work, it’s not all up to rescue agents. “This fight is too big for us to take on alone. We must fight this evil together,” Marcus said. “Without your help, we wouldn’t be able to do what we do every day.”

Will you rescue someone enduring the unimaginable by showing them their inherent worth? Your donation empowers agents like Marcus to usher victims from the darkness of exploitation and into the light of freedom.

Fill out the form below to rescue a child today.