Page 2 of Twice Missing
Jack adjusted some settings on the device, his frown deepening. "I'm not sure, buddy. That doesn't look like any fish I've ever seen on sonar before."
The shape on the screen was large and distinctly angular, nothing like the smooth, organic forms of fish they were used to seeing.
"It almost looks like…" Jack trailed off, his eyes widening with realization.
"Looks like what, Dad?"
Jack swallowed hard, his voice barely a whisper. "That looks like a vehicle."
As they stared at the screen in stunned silence, neither father nor son could shake the unsettling feeling that their simple fishing trip had suddenly transformed into something far more complex.
1
The glow of multiple monitors cast a ghostly light across Noah Sutherland's face as he hunched over his desk in the dimly lit office. Outside, the Adirondack winter howled, rattling the windows of the Bureau of Criminal Investigation's outpost.
Noah's eyes darted between screens, tracing the intricate web of data flows. For months, he'd been chasing digital phantoms — elusive traces of an offshore gambling operation that always seemed one step ahead.
A knock at the door broke his concentration. "Still burning the midnight oil, Sutherland?" Lieutenant Savannah Legacy's voice carried a mix of concern and admiration.
Noah leaned back, rubbing his eyes. "Just following a hunch, LT. These server logs from the Cayman Islands? They're pinging back to an IP address right here in High Peaks."
Legacy's eyebrows shot up. "Local? That's new. Any idea where?"
"Not yet, but—" Noah's reply was cut short by an urgent beep from his computer. A window popped up, lines of code scrolling rapidly.
"What the hell?" Noah leaned in, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Someone's accessing the offshore servers... from here. Right now."
Legacy was instantly alert. "Can you trace it?"
Noah nodded, his face illuminated by the pulsing data. "It's... it's coming from the industrial park on the edge of town. That old warehouse complex."
"I'll mobilize a team," Legacy said, already reaching for her phone. "How long do we have?"
"Hard to say. Could be minutes, could be seconds before they realize we're onto them and go dark."
Legacy paused at the door. "Make the call, Noah. Your op, your lead."
Noah's mind raced. Months of painstaking investigation, countless dead ends, and now this. A real-time connection to the heart of the operation he'd been chasing since that botched raid on the Ashford Royale Casino last year.
He grabbed his jacket, adrenaline surging. "Patch me through to tactical. We're going in hot."
Twenty minutes later, Noah crouched behind the wheel of an unmarked SUV, the warehouse looming before him in the snowy darkness. A dozen BCI agents and local SWAT members waited for his signal, their breath fogging in the frigid air.
"Remember," Noah's voice crackled over the comms, "we need those servers intact. Whatever you do, don't let them wipe the data."
He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves. This wasn't just about illegal gambling anymore. If his hunch was right, these servers could be the key to unraveling a money laundering operation that stretched from the glittering floors of the Ashford Royale all the way to offshore tax havens.
"On my mark," Noah said, his hand tightening on the door handle. He thought of the faces of those who'd been ruined by the casino's predatory practices, of the families torn apart by gambling addiction. "Three, two, one... Execute!"
The night erupted into a cacophony of shouts and breaking glass. Noah sprinted toward the warehouse entrance, heart pounding. As he reached the door, a muffled gunshot rang out from inside.
Noah hesitated for a split second, years of training warring with the urgency of the moment. Then he gritted his teeth and plunged into the darkness, knowing that whatever awaited him inside could change everything.
The real game was just beginning.
Noah burst through the door, his tactical flashlight cutting through the darkness. The warehouse interior was a maze of server racks and humming equipment, casting eerie shadows across the concrete floor.
"State Police. Nobody move!" he shouted, his voice echoing off the metal walls.
