The Missing Pattern

Into the Darkness Part 6

Calvin nodded, already dialing contacts in the California Highway Patrol. I turned back to the map, my mind racing. We were getting closer. I could feel it in my bones. But the pressure was mounting. This wasn't just a case anymore. It was a ticking clock.

Then, my phone buzzed again. I glanced down and saw the new alert. 13-year-old girl reported missing, downtown Bakersfield, 5:15 p.m.

"Not again," I muttered under my breath, the anger already burning in my chest. I stormed into the main room, my voice cutting through the silence. "Fresh report. Another girl. Age 13, missing from downtown Bakersfield. That makes thirteen girls."

A heavy silence fell. I saw the same look of frustration and disbelief that mirrored my own. Reese's jaw clenched. Calvin's face hardened.

"They're not wasting any time," Reese said, the quiet rage in her voice matching mine. "Every time we think we're catching up, they're one step ahead."

My gaze hardened, the rage building. "Then we need to get ahead of them. Reese, pull any footage from downtown Bakersfield. Especially from bus stops, parks, the shopping district. Yang, run background checks on any vans that might match the partial plate we got from Porterville. Cross-reference it with traffic cam footage from the highways. We can't miss a single angle."

The team jumped into action, but the frustration was palpable. It wasn't enough. We weren't enough.

Then, Calvin returned, his expression grim. "CHP is setting up roadblocks, but there are still gaps in our coverage. If they're as organized as we think, they could be using alternate routes—backroads, private roads. Places we can't track."

I nodded, biting my lip to keep my anger in check. "If they know the area, they'll be using those routes. We have to widen our search. Expand our scope."

Reese came back, urgency in her eyes. "Kitty, you're going to want to see this."

I followed her to the monitor, and my heart sank as she pulled up footage from a downtown camera. A grainy clip—blurry, but enough to make my blood run cold. A young girl, standing alone at a bus stop, looking over her shoulder nervously. Then, a van pulled up beside her. The passenger side window rolled down. A man's figure leaned out, speaking to her.

I froze, my gaze locked on the girl's face. She knew him. Or at least, she wasn't afraid of him. She hesitated for only a moment before stepping into the van.

"Rewind it," I said sharply. "I want to see her face again."

Reese complied, replaying the footage. I watched carefully, my heart pounding. It was there. A flash of recognition in her eyes. She knew him. They were using someone the girls trusted.

I turned to Reese, my stomach sinking. "They're using someone these girls recognize. Someone they trust. That's how they're getting them in the van."

A cold realization washed over me. "If they're using someone the girls know, we need to look at everyone with access to these schools—teachers, volunteers, custodians. Anyone who could have a connection."

Before Reese could respond, my phone rang. A secure line. Thompson.

"Kitty," he said, his voice grim. "I've got news from the California Bureau of Investigation. Two days ago, a warehouse in Los Angeles was raided during a trafficking sting. They found holding rooms, documents, photographs. Some of the girls—our girls—were in the pictures. Only a few, but it's enough to confirm a connection."

My breath caught. "Are they still there? Do we know where they are?"

"No. They're gone. The warehouse is cleared out. But... there's more. The records indicated a transfer date. End of this week."

My heart dropped. "They're moving them."

"Exactly. You've got less than forty-eight hours to stop it."

The weight of those words hit me like a punch to the gut. We were running out of time. The clock was ticking, and we were barely holding on.

I turned to my team, my voice cold with fury. "We've got less than forty-eight hours. They're moving them. And if we don't stop this now, it's over."

Calvin swore under his breath. Reese's face tightened with resolve. "Where do we start?"

I grabbed the image of the van from the board, my finger tapping it with urgency. "We start with this van. It's our best shot. And we start looking at everyone with access to the schools. We need to find the mole."

My phone buzzed again. Another message from Thompson. Received intel on a possible meeting place for the next drop. Sending location.

I read the address, my heart racing. It was a secluded warehouse near the outskirts of Bakersfield, known for being used by underground networks.

I looked up at my team, my gaze hard as steel. "This is it. We've got a location. Tonight, we move in."

The team snapped to attention, every agent instantly springing into action. My heart hammered in my chest, the weight of this mission pressing down on me. We were running out of time.

We were going in.