"Move in, move in!"
"Corner secure!"
"Left side clear!"
"Anything?"
"All clear, no one here!"
With the SWAT team clearing the way, Jack and Hannah were at the rear, navigating through the basement's dank, musty air. The dark, humid environment reeked with a mix of mildew and other indescribable odors.
This basement seemed to have been repurposed from a laundry room; broken washing machines lined one wall, while rusty pipes dripped water from above, part of the old heating system that supplied warmth to the entire mansion during winter.
In the largest room were scattered mattresses, some littered with discarded underwear and random items, indicating that the previous occupants had left in a hurry.
"God, what kind of monsters are we dealing with?" one SWAT officer muttered, kicking a washing machine in anger, the clang echoing through the space.
"Let's check it out," Hannah gestured slightly toward Jack, and the two entered a small, empty room.
Their flashlights illuminated the concrete walls, which were covered in drawings—little animals, ponds, clouds, flowers, birds, and a small girl holding her parents' hands.
These pitiful sketches were likely the only entertainment for the girls, who were confined here during the day, forced to work at night. The drawings weren't made with paint but with cheap makeup in various colors.
Jack's chest tightened with anger and sorrow, and he took several deep breaths, struggling to calm himself. Next to him, Hannah's eyes were glistening with tears, and she covered her mouth to hold back her sobs.
"Sir, you should come look at this," another SWAT officer called out from the other end of the basement.
One small room had been set up as a makeshift operating room, containing a crude operating table, a surgical lamp, and a filthy sink cluttered with basic surgical tools.
"I need to get some air," Hannah said, quickly leaving the basement.
---
"They had at least one gynecologist on their side, performing illegal procedures for the girls who got pregnant. New York state permits abortions, but legitimate surgeons wouldn't risk handling work like this. Considering the gang's background, I suggest narrowing our search to Ukrainian unlicensed doctors hiding in low-income neighborhoods."
Jack hung up with Jubal and immediately called Danny Reagan. "Hey, Danny, it's me. We need another favor from NYPD. We've traced both properties back to a shell company. Yeah, approach their property manager, but keep it discreet. If we don't want another forest cemetery on our hands, we need to act carefully. Thanks."
Jack turned to see Hannah in the passenger seat, her face calm but her intense blue eyes reflecting barely restrained fury.
"Let's get some rest. Once it's light, we'll go back to the hospital and talk to Haley again. Maybe she can remember something about the doctor."
Jack reclined his seat to get comfortable, then glanced over at her. "Take a break, too."
"Sorry. Was I too unprofessional back there?" Hannah mirrored him, reclining her seat and turning her head toward him.
"I know how strong you are, and I know how angry you are right now. But just a reminder—we're in New York, so try to keep it in check until I'm ready. We don't need any hasty moves."
Jack knew Hannah had a strong sense of justice and the characteristic Texas grit. If he didn't keep her reined in, she might do something rash. Here, away from the safety of Los Angeles and the influence of the Anderson family, they had to tread carefully.
"Those poor girls..." Hannah said softly, nodding in understanding.
After a few hours of restless sleep in the car, they stopped by a coffee shop near the hospital to get some breakfast, then headed to Haley's room.
Haley looked noticeably better, and at her bedside sat an FBI sketch artist, carefully creating a portrait based on her description.
Jack picked up one of the sketches on the bed—a man with typical Eastern European features, a square jaw, slightly hooked nose, thin lips, and a sinister gaze.
"Is this Snake?"
Haley nodded, staying silent as if she was still instinctively wary of men.
Jack stepped aside, letting Hannah take over the questioning.
"We're making progress, but there are a few things we need to clarify. Did you ever see a doctor?" Hannah asked gently.
Haley nodded, cooperating willingly. "No, but some of the other girls did. They mentioned him sometimes."
"Could you describe him? Anything you remember could help," Hannah encouraged, sitting beside her and resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Haley fiddled with her fingers, her gaze drifting slightly as she tried to recall. "They said he was older and told them he used to be a doctor in Ukraine."
"Anything else? Even the smallest detail could help," Hannah pressed softly.
"He was... nice to them. They said he was the only one who showed them any kindness."
Hannah and Jack exchanged a glance, both at a loss for words.
Leaving the hospital, they sat down at a nearby Starbucks and messaged Danny Reagan. A few minutes later, Danny arrived, wearing an open jacket with his badge and gun on either side of his belt. He seemed to be in a good mood.
"Heard you like Starbucks," Danny said with a smirk.
"Huh?" Jack was confused and glanced at Hannah, who looked equally bewildered.
"Guess you've been busy," Danny said, pulling up a news article on his phone and showing them.
Jack assumed that the media would have forgotten about him after the press conference weeks ago, but it seemed that a bored reporter had unearthed an old story about the Los Angeles grocery store shooting. They'd snapped a blurry shot from the footage, catching him glancing back toward the camera, and paired it with a press conference photo, slapping a big question mark on the image.
The headline read, "Is It Him?"
Jack sighed, rubbing his temples. It was probably part of Rossi's "fame" plan, but he hadn't expected this kind of attention. No wonder the waitress had looked at him strangely earlier.
Fortunately, Danny wasn't the nosy type. After a bit of playful ribbing, he quickly steered the conversation back to the case.
"Elyssa Holiman—the property manager you asked me to contact—is being surprisingly cooperative."
[Check out my Patreon for +200 additional chapters in all my fanfics! Only $5 per novel or $15 for all!!] [www.p@treon.com/Mutter]
[+100 Power Stones = +1 Extra Chapter]
[+5 Reviews = +1 Extra Chapter]