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The warehouse was exactly as Isabel had described although she’d seen very little in the dark taking a path through the woods. Somehow, she’d managed to walk several miles during the dark in a rough terrain with a child to care for.

Her tenacity and strength after such an ordeal were commendable.

She was the true hero at this point.

Sergei had already brought a number of soldiers with him in anticipation of finding the warehouse.

When we pulled through the already open set of gates, the building loomed in the distance nestled against a heavy bank of trees surrounding it on three sides. Two stories and nothing spectacular. In truth, there was limited security, which was somewhat surprising.

Although the area itself had been sectioned off, at least a couple hundred acres surrounding the property were owned by the company in question. I’d been sent what little information Diana had found, which highlighted a classic case of purposely hiding the true identity of the owners.

The actual owner appointed local or professional third parties, which were known as nominees and whose names and signatures appeared on all official government and banking paperwork, while the real owner held his or her secret control via private agreements.

In addition, the ownership was chained through multiple companies across different countries forcing investigators to clear legal hurdles in multiple nations to find their real information.

The assholes had gone to great lengths, including a favorite tactic I’d used and was currently doing with the trust surrounding the medical facility. They’d placed the ownership of the shell company under an anonymous or discretionary trust, which also further detached the asset from any single named individual.

All very clever, but a veil that Diana would eventually break through. I had to admit whoever was involved and giving the commands wasn’t a typical leader of a crime syndicate. Not to say that the various corrupt organizations hadn’t evolved into more structured use of what some would call white collar crimes to their benefit. There were certainly more internet businesses being handled, which strengthened both the bottom line and the ability to hide assets, with fewer obstructions to international trade.

Which was really what the evolved crime syndicates were all about. The most intelligent and cunning of the cartels and Cosa Nostras, Bratvas and other syndicates wanted more wealth than what could be provided by typical acts of extortion and blackmail.

And all of us had enjoyed watching the successes and failures of white-collar companies, many of which were considered highly respected in whatever industry. All while hiding under their own cloak of deceit.

In other words, whoever I was dealing with had his or her pulse on what worked well and what didn’t. Not only for maximum growth and success, but also in providing maximum levels of anguish to their foes.

As I headed for the building, I buttoned my jacket, realizing I’d worn a suit more often than not over the last few days. Sergei stood close to the front of the building, eyeing me as I approached. I could see concern in his eyes, especially since he’d yet to be told about Mina but had known something was wrong.

“Pakhan. We have the building stabilized,” he said quietly.

“Excellent. How many employees inside?”

“A crew of maybe thirty people. They work two shifts.”

“And their business?”

“Textiles. Screen printing. Tee shirts. Hats. Bags. They employ a lot of the locals.” He shrugged when I had no reaction.

I gritted my teeth and noticed the number of cars in the parking lot. “Let me guess. They have no clue why we’re here.”

“I wouldn’t say that, although I doubt the folks on the day shift are clued in about what happens at night. See that half of the building? It was mostly gutted a few years ago when a larger firm went out of business. Only that half is being used, the other blocked off.”

A subtle laugh was captured in my throat. “What did you find on the other side?”

“As you might imagine, they figured we’d find the warehouse. Whatever they were doing, they wiped away almost all evidence. But they left traces of themselves behind. Including blood and a few things you’re going to want to see. There are spaces dedicated to storage with large bay doors. And signs of recent activity.”

“They were housing an entirely different product than just shirts.”

Sergei nodded. “That’s what I’m thinking. A perfect coverup. My guess is no one from Kingville pays any attention or cares since the company is providing decent jobs. And wages. That much I discovered. Just keep in mind that once you go inside, you’re going to be angry.”

He was right, although this location was nothing more than a small portion of the business operation. The town was close enough to the Atlantic Ocean to make its location worthwhile. International trade was probable.

I nodded a few times. “Have you interrogated all the men?”

“Yes. They aren’t much in the way of assisting.”

“But you found someone who might prove to be helpful, did you not?”

“Yes, sir.” Now Sergei was grinning. “The shift manager.”