Third POV limited
Saint and the others arrived at the location they’d discovered minutes earlier. It was an uncompleted building surrounded by trees. They stood in front of it, eyes scanning the area for any sign of movement, Milo checking the surrounding grounds while the hacker searched for electronic signals.
A trail of tire marks ran down the street. Saint bent down, fingers trailing the line, jaw locked, pure rage radiating through him, his eyes dark but still bright enough to catch the light.
"The bus was here, but it’s already been moved." Saint hissed, standing and dusting his hands against his pants. "We were close enough, but not fast enough."
"Saint." Dax called out in a soothing voice, eyes moving from Saint’s jaw to the rigid muscles along his arms, veins pressing against the skin like they were about to tear through. "I know you’re angry, but don’t do it here, not out in the open."
"Do what?" He snapped, now fully focused on Dax, who didn’t seem the least bit intimidated by the dangerous look in his eyes.
"Marchetti. Your eyes." Dr. Quinn interjected, noticing the flickering change in Saint’s irises. "You can’t let that happen here. At any moment the FBI or coroners could show up. Keep him under control."
"What exactly are you guys talking about?" the hacker asked, clearly lost.
"Let’s check the building. There’s a seventy percent chance we’ll find something that leads us to our next clue." Milo insisted, already marching inside.
"What exactly are we looking for?" Dr. Quinn asked.
"Anything that shows the bus system was tampered with, transport equipment, discarded communication devices." The hacker pointed out.
"Even paperwork with coded numbers. There’s a decent chance we’ll find half of what he just listed." Milo said, already waving everyone forward to start searching.
They scattered through the building, Saint on high alert in case his hearing picked up something useful, the others searching every corner for anything that might help. Halfway through, Dax found a discarded phone that looked like it had slipped out of one of the kidnappers’ pockets, while Milo found a sheet of paper covered in coded numbers, along with bread crumbs scattered across a paper plate, twenty-three plates in total, confirming the kids had been there and that the kidnappers had fed them before moving them to their next location.
"I found something. Alyssa’s teddy, clipped to her bag zipper. She must have dropped it in the rush, along with a half-eaten granola bar, but I don’t think that part matters right now." Dr. Quinn said, his voice low and raspy, like he hadn’t meant for anyone to hear, though Saint’s heightened senses caught every word.
For a moment Saint’s heartbeat stopped at the sound of it, blood rushing hot into his face and neck, rage spiking through him as he turned sharply toward the sound.
"And a partial company identifier. This is it." The hacker said, victorious, like he’d just hit a jackpot.
They all gathered inside the Toyota SUV they’d arrived in, Milo and the hacker pulling out their laptops. Milo worked through code after code, but every attempt came back wrong.
"This is tougher than I expected." The hacker muttered, fingers flying across the keyboard faster than Saint had seen anyone type before. "Found something in the code." The others leaned in, breath hovering close over his shoulder.
Classification: Restricted
Subject: [redacted count]
Status: Relocated from first destination, about to move to the next.
Origin: Facility 07
Destination: Redacted
Biological compatibility: Pending
Stabilization requirement: Confirmed
Phase: M_3
Authorization: MER_07\23
Transfer window: 02:10 to 02:40
14\15\20\5: Subjects must remain together until preliminary assessment is completed.
Do not duplicate. Do not distribute outside authorized personnel on the project.
"There’s a lot of MER showing up in this paperwork. Is that the name of the company behind the trafficking, or...?" Dr. Quinn asked, brow furrowing.
"MER appears in every file. Could be a facility code. There’s another document here marked MER_04, MER_12, but it stops at MER_23." Milo said, pointing at the number on his screen.
"Stops at twenty-three." Saint finally spoke up, eyes locked on the teddy bear still in his hands, grip tightening until it creaked. "And there were twenty-three students on that bus, not counting the teacher or the driver. This is about children. This is trafficking."
"MER shows up in every code. Same three letters, different numbers." Saint stared at the screen a moment longer. "We still don’t know what it means, but whoever took the children has left the same mark behind more than once."
"MER." Dr. Quinn repeated, stepping out of the car, scratching the back of his neck like he was trying to dislodge something stuck there, the others watching him closely. "I’ve seen that name before. Or at least heard it somewhere."
"Maybe you’re having déjà vu," Dax joked, dismissive.
"No. I saw it. I saw it..." he muttered, eyes shut tight, replaying something in his mind. "When Saint was poisoned. There. I’ve got it."
"The champagne bottle had MER stamped on the bottom, with three numbers, 000. Yes, MER 000, right on the base. The other bottles had MER 015. Different numbers, but the same first three letters." He revealed it, and the others stared at him, mouths slightly open, already trying to connect the pieces.
"And the company identifier from Milo’s laptop traces back to our man, S.S. He’s been hiding behind several legitimate-looking companies and accounts..." the hacker chimed in. "That’s why he never showed up under an ID."
"So they’ve deliberately covered their tracks, from the outside in." Milo added, while the hacker kept working the keyboard.
"S.S. recently used one of those companies to arrange another transaction, some unknown product." The hacker added. "The transaction has a location attached to it."
"But we still need the old man back at the penthouse. He might know more than he’s letting on." Dr. Quinn said, and they all climbed into the car and drove off, back toward the mansion.