Two days later...
The study was messier than it had ever been. Strewn papers and upturned laptops matched the anxious vibe of the people inside.
Across the room, Marcus paced with a tablet in hand, face grim. Tommy had heard enough.
"It's been two damn days," he snapped. "I can't take any more excuses. Shouldn't you be done tracking the number that sent me that video by now?"
Marcus didn't so much as flinch. "I'm still on it. Remember that we're dealing with someone who's covered every digital trail. Burner phones, signal jumps, spoofing—"
"Then start digging deeper!"
Marcus sighed and continued tapping commands into the tablet.
About seven tense minutes later, he spoke up. "I think I've almost got it."
Tommy didn't breathe. Every second was a ticking bomb in his chest.
Finally, Marcus turned the screen toward him. "Last known ping traced to a warehouse. It's in a remote industrial zone that's coincidentally been abandoned for years."
