Inside, the hum of refrigeration was louder. The light flickered over rows of stainless steel tables—each one holding sealed containers, tags, and more coolers stacked to the ceiling.
It wasn’t just one shipment. It was an entire supply chain.
Behind me, I heard Raine’s breath catch, ragged and sharp.
My chest burned with fury. These bastards had turned lives into inventory. Children, mothers, fathers—broken down into parts like machine scrap.
I shoved the man forward into the room. “Start talking. Now. Or I let Blade cut the truth out of you one piece at a time.”
The older one whimpered, sweat pouring down his temples. “You don’t understand. If we talk, we’re dead.”
I stepped closer, the barrel of my Glock pressing against his temple. “If you don’t talk, you’re already dead.”
The room went silent except for the hum of the freezers.
And I knew—one way or another—we were about to get answers.
66
Adam
The hum of the refrigeration units filled my head like a scream I couldn’t shut out.
I’d been in warzones, I’d seen atrocities that would haunt a man to his grave—but this? This was sanitized, clinical. Not chaos, not desperation. Order.
I pulled the clipboard from Raine’s shaking hands and scanned the pages. Dates, codes, locations.
Dallas. Houston. Laredo. Chicago.
This wasn’t one operation. It was a chain.
My gut clenched. The clinic wasn’t where the bodies went. It was where theypassed through.A weigh station.
I turned back to the men in lab coats, my voice hard. “How many?”
The older one shook his head violently. “We don’t know. We don’t ask—”
I slammed the clipboard against the wall, making him flinch. “How many units have you processed here?”
His mouth opened, closed. Finally, a whisper: “Dozens. Maybe more. We only hold them a few hours before transport. Everything is coordinated. We just—preserve. That’s all.”
Russ’s voice came through comms, tight.“Adam. Records confirm—this clinic is just one hub. Deliveries go statewide. Maybe interstate. This isn’t small. This is systemic.”
I felt Raine’s eyes on me, her breath sharp. I didn’t look at her—I couldn’t. Not yet.
Hawk’s voice crackled in next.“Rear’s clear. Staff secured. But I’ve got a bad feeling—the place is too clean. Like they knew we’d come.”
My chest burned. He wasn’t wrong. The ease of entry, the minimal staff—it wasn’t oversight. It was bait.
“Blade,” I said, never taking my eyes off the men on the floor. “Sweep the hall. Make sure there’s no surprises.”
He vanished without a word, the glint of steel his only answer.
I crouched in front of the younger tech, pressing the cold barrel of the Glock under his chin. “You’re going to tell me where this chain starts. Who gives the orders? Who signs the shipments? Because if you think death is the worst thing waiting for you, you haven’t met me yet.”
His breath hitched, eyes wild. “You don’t understand. It’s bigger than all of us. You take out one link, ten more replace it. You can’t stop it.”
My jaw tightened. “Watch me.”
