"Who's running it?" Oskar asks.
"Don't know. Could be independents, could be organized. We're trying to get more intel."
"Anyone left from Los Coyotes?" someone suggests.
Runes shakes his head. "No, we obliterated them, and it honestly doesn't fit their MO. They're into drugs, guns, protection. This seems... different. Smaller operation, maybe."
Tor, sitting three seats down from me, speaks up.
His voice is tight, controlled, but I can hear the rage underneath.
"We need to shut this down."
Everyone looks at him.
Tor doesn't talk much inkirkja.
Keeps to himself, does his job, doesn't make waves.
But this—this is personal for him.
We all know why.
His past, the things that happened to him when he was younger, the scars he carries that nobody talks about.
"I agree," Fenrir says carefully. "But we need information first. Can't go in guns blazing without knowing who, where, how many."
"Then we get information," Tor says. "Fast. Because every day we wait?—"
He doesn't finish.
Doesn't need to.
We all know what every day means.
More kids taken.
More innocence destroyed.
More lives ruined.
"I'm assigning a team to investigate," Runes announces. "Quiet. Careful. We gather intel, we confirm the operation exists, then we decide how to handle it."
"When you say handle—" Magnus starts.
"I mean we end it," Runes says flatly. "This isn't our usual business, but some shit you don't ignore. Trafficking kids falls into that category."
Nods around the table.
Agreement.
This is why I'm proud to wear this patch.
Yeah, we're criminals.
Yeah, we do things that would get us locked up if the cops caught us.
But we have lines.
