Cascade Holdings had purchased it in 2006 for "historical preservation."
Historical preservation. Right.
They'd turned it into a smuggling hub.
"The fish plant's too exposed," Gabe admitted. "David was watching it for weeks. They know we know about it."
"Bayshore's in an urban area," Cara added. "Too many potential witnesses."
"But Cape Mercy?" Wade tapped the screen. "Isolated. Secure. No one around for miles. If I were holding a hostage..." He stopped. Met Gabe's eyes. "That's where I'd put him."
Tom pulled up property records. "Tax records show minimal maintenance expenses. Just enough to keep it from being condemned. No business activity registered. But they are connected to utilities. Looks like minimal power and water usage. I can’t tell from these records if they’re using more than normal right now. It's sitting there, empty on paper."
Gabe studied the main operations building. Two stories. Windows on the second floor that would have been command offices when the station was active, secure rooms where officers would coordinate rescue operations and maintain communication.
And somewhere in that labyrinth, they had David. He could feel it. "If they’re running ops out of that place, they’ve got security, and cameras. Any chance you can tap in?"
Tom's expression turned calculating. "For sure. No way they keep the feed onsite. If I can find their network..."
"How long?" Wade asked.
"Give me an hour. Maybe two." Tom was already working, open windows multiplying as he accessed systems that should have been impossible to breach. "But if they're holding David there, I'll find proof."
Gabe checked his watch. Twenty-two hours and seventeen minutes until the deadline expired.
Two hours to confirm the location. Then they'd need to plan the approach. Gather equipment. Coordinate the team.
Dawn was six hours away. First light would give them cover but enough visibility to move effectively.
They could do this. They had to do this.
"Find him," Gabe said to Tom. "Confirm he's there. Then we plan the extraction."
Tom nodded without looking up from his laptop.
Wade pulled out his phone, taking photos of the satellite imagery. Documenting the layout for tactical planning.
Reagan moved to make fresh coffee.
Piper watched everything with wide eyes, absorbing details, understanding that she was watching something illegal and necessary happen in real time.
Cara's hand found Gabe's under the table. Squeezed once. Silent support.
On the screen, Cape Mercy Coast Guard Station sat isolated and waiting. White buildings weathered by thirty years of salt air and corruption.
Somewhere inside those walls, David was alive. Waiting. Hoping.
Gabe stared at the image and felt certainty settle cold and heavy in his chest.
"That's where they're holding him," he said.
No one disagreed.
Now they just had to prove it.
36
Tom workedin silence for twenty minutes, then forty, then over an hour.
