Chapter 30
Twenty-five tense minutes later, someone knocked at the back door. It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t frantic. It was sharp, controlled—the kind of knock that meant someone already knew what they were walking into.
The unlocked door swung open as Rafe didn’t bother waiting for an invite. He stepped inside, took one look at Andy’s face, and swore under his breath. “Fucking hell.”
“Hey, bro. And hey—kid I haven’t met yet,” Sean said as he strode in right behind Rafe, dropping a duffel beside the door and kicking it shut. The two of them must have broken speed records to get there so fast. “I’m Sean. You must be Andy.”
The teenager nodded once but remained silent, watching the newcomers like trust was something he couldn’t afford to give them yet.
He already knew Rafe from when he’d been brought in for questioning after being caught up with the gang members a few weeks ago, and that familiarity didn’t seem to help.
Not bothered by the low-key response, Sean crossed to the dining table and set down his laptop bag before quickly shrugging out of his black hoodie, his sidearm secure on his hip, ready as ever.
He pulled the laptop out, and within a minute, he was set up, online, and working.
The screen glowed as his fingers moved across the keyboard, mirroring the speed and confidence Andy had shown earlier.
Brian watched his brother log in to the FBI database, then open a separate blank text document—nothing official, just a place to dump information as it came in.
Sean looked up. “Okay. Let’s go. Sit-rep.”
Brian filled them in, detailed but stripped down to the facts.
Diego. Crypto. Coercion. Andy’s earlier IP job.
Tess taken as leverage. Stolen van. Everything.
Occasionally, he glanced at Andy to make sure he had it right.
The teen responded with either a nod or a brief answer, using the bare minimum of words.
As he continued, Brian kept his focus on the intelligence, careful not to linger on Tess’s name. Thinking about her—about what she was facing—was something he couldn’t afford right now.
While waiting for Rafe and Sean to get there, he’d called Uncle Dan and given him the rundown. Once they figured out where Tess was being held, they would drop Andy off at Dan’s before launching a rescue. Although the teen would undoubtedly argue about it, he’d be safe there.
Rafe paced, something he did all the time while getting the run-down on a new case. Sean listened without interrupting, his eyes flickering between Andy and the data already populating his screen.
When Brian finished, Rafe went still, hands on his hips, staring up at the ceiling as he mentally sorted through the information. At the table, Sean typed away, entering the pertinent details into the document. Brian didn’t interrupt either of them—they would speak when ready.
Finally, Sean lifted his head. “Okay, I pulled the call history from Andy’s phone.”
Brian leaned in to study the topographic roadmap on the screen. Two markers appeared almost on top of each other.
“The last two incoming calls came from the same cell tower—in Kingsby.” Sean tapped the screen.
Despite its regal name, Kingsby was a low-income stretch set just far enough off the main roads to Elizabeth City to be easily overlooked.
“Both phones pinged there?” Rafe asked from across the room.
Sean nodded. “Yup, and both are off now, so there’s no way to tell if they’re still in the same place. My guess is they are. We’re dealing with gang-bangers, not rocket scientists. They think they’re smart, but they always eventually make mistakes.”
Brian’s mind immediately started breaking it down—distance, access routes, places someone could hole up without drawing attention.
He pulled Andy’s laptop closer and glanced at him. “I can log into my work database without you capturing my user name and password?”
A nervous look crossed the kid’s face. “Uh, hang on.” He rushed over and nudged Brian out of the way. After a few quick clicks and tapping of keys, he stepped back again. “You’re all good. I swear, it won’t record anything.”
Brian stared at him, ninety-nine percent sure he was telling the truth, but that one percent still made him wary. Andy bit his bottom lip and glanced around the room before meeting Brian’s gaze. “I swear!”
“Stop saying that,” he snapped. “It’s annoying.”
“Sorry. But if you don’t trust me, you can change your password later. Just—just save Tess. Please.”
With a single nod, Brian moved the laptop across the table and sat in the chair beside his brother. He logged into the NCSP website, making sure the“Remember Me on This Computer” box was unchecked. “Let’s overlay Devil’s Crew known locations in that area.”
He went into the database and entered the necessary parameters, pulling up prior case notes, arrests, and known associations—anything related to the gang and its members.
He even had access to ECPD’s intel through the task force.
“Here we go—residences, hangouts, and anywhere else that’s in the system for whatever reason. ”
“Email the CSV file to my work address,” Sean said.
Once that was done, the FBI agent imported the file, and soon, blue pins bloomed across the map on the screen. Dozens of them. Far too many.
“After you’ve narrowed it to the tower range, drop anything that isn’t an actual building.”
The number of pins shrank with a few keystrokes, then narrowed again until only three remained.
Sean zoomed the map in. “Those are all the known properties inside the tower’s range.”
From over his shoulder, Rafe pointed to one of the pins at the crossroads of Kings Highway and Hawthorne Drive. “That’s got to be the old seafood processing plant that’s been abandoned for years.”
“We can cross that off the list,” Brian said. “They started demolishing it last week for a new strip mall. Saw it on the local news.”
“Okay. The second one looks like it’s Turner’s Campground off Maple Road.” The large parcel of land was split into two—a trailer park with year-round residents and short-term sites for tents and RVs.
Sean shook his head. “Too risky. High foot traffic this time of year, and not a lot of cover. It only takes one bored neighbor with nothing better to do to notice what you’re up to.”
Brian’s attention shifted to the third pin. “Switch to satellite and zoom in on that one.”
The screen shifted from the roadmap to Google Street View, showing a run-down apartment building on Fleetwood Drive, in the seedier side of town.
The kind of place with multiple units, high turnover rates, complaints that went nowhere, and residents who kept their mouths shut out of fear of retribution. Easy to overlook. Easier to ignore.
“That’s it,” Brian said quietly.
Rafe studied it, then nodded. “Agreed.”
“That’s where she is?” Andy asked, a shred of hope in his tone.
Before anyone could respond, his phone chimed, the alert cutting through the room. He froze, staring down at the lit screen. “It’s the same number as the last call.”
The teen passed the phone to Brian, his hand shaking. At the same time, Sean’s fingers flew across the keyboard. “Got him. We were right about the apartment building.”
Brian looked at the text.
Unknown Caller:
U ready
He typed out one word and hit send.
Almost
Seconds later, the phone rang. Stepping closer to Andy, he spoke fast and low. “I’m putting it on speaker. When you answer, tell him you need a little more time—say you’re making sure you don’t get caught. Demand to talk to Tess. You won’t do anything until you know she’s okay.”
Andy nodded, his throat working as he dragged in a shallow breath.
Brian hit the answer button before the ringing stopped, switched the call to speaker, and held the phone near Andy’s mouth.
“H-hello?”
“What the fuck is taking so long, Bing?” Diego’s voice came through low and even, with a calm that carried a threat all its own. “I thought you were some kind of tech genius. You fuckin’ with me?”
“N-no. I—I’m just making sure I don’t do anything that can be traced back to you—” His eyes widened and snapped to Brian, who nodded several times in encouragement.
“I mean—to me,” Andy rushed on. “I just need to be careful. Let me talk to my sister.”
“That’s not how this works,” Diego said flatly. “You talk to her after you do what you’re told.”
Andy squared his shoulders, the movement small but deliberate. His hands clenched at his sides, knuckles whitening. “No. I’m not doing anything until I know Tess is okay. Just—just let me hear her. Then I’ll do whatever you want.”
The silence that followed was heavy, deliberate.
Andy’s breath hitched. Fear crept back into his face as the seconds dragged on. He stabbed the mute button. “What happened?” His voice cracked. “What do I do?”
“You’re doing fine,” Brian said, steady and certain, before unmuting the phone again.
There was a brief scuffing sound—movement, fabric shifting—then a breath.
“A-Andy?”
At the sound of his sister’s voice, his shoulders sagged in relief. “Are you okay?”
She didn’t get the chance to answer.
“See?” Diego cut in. “She’s alive. For now.” He paused, letting the threat sink in. “I’m texting you the details. Get it done—or you get her back in pieces. You’ve got one hour, Bing.”
The line went dead.
Moments later, a text came through with the account details—numbers for both incoming and outgoing transfers—along with the rest of what Andy would need to do the job. It arrived too fast to have been anything but copied and pasted.
On the heels of that came another text.
Unknown Caller
Clock is ticking
His gaze shifting from one man to the next, Andy stood in silence as Brian watched him carefully—watched the way his shoulders hunched, the way his jaw clenched.
Sixteen—a month away from seventeen. Christ. He was still a kid.
A smart one, sure—but still a kid who should have been worrying about video games and when he could see his girlfriend next, not negotiating with a gang leader over his sister’s life.
“Now what?” Andy asked.
After setting the one-hour timer on his own phone, Brian met the kid’s gaze. “Now we go save Tess.”
A wicked grin spread across Sean’s face as he got to his feet. “Yee-haw! The Malone brothers ride again.” He glanced at Brian and Rafe, then shrugged. “Well, minus a SEAL, plus an adopted Statie. Two out of three ain’t bad.”
“Do not start belting out Meatloaf, little brother.” Brian winked at Andy, trying to keep the levity in the room for his sake. “He can’t sing for shit.”
The corners of Andy’s mouth twitched, but a smile never appeared. Brian understood far too well that this wasn’t something humor could fix. He turned toward the door. As the text had said, the clock was ticking. “Let’s go.”