The sprawling property was surrounded by a ten-foot chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Rows of rusted semi-truck trailers and crushed sedans stood like silent giants in the dark. At the far end of the yard sat a two-story corrugated metal office building, its lower windows lit by a faint yellow glow.
Sam radioed his three deputies, positioning two at the rear perimeter fence while he and I approached the front entrance on foot, staying low behind a stack of giant tractor tires.
"We go in hard and fast," Sam whispered, unholstering his sidearm. "Our only priority is securing Elena Vasquez before Kraven realizes we're on the property."
We moved swiftly across the muddy yard, dodging between rusted truck frames until we reached the metal side door labeled BUILDING B.
Sam tested the handle. It was unlocked.
He pushed the door inward, and we stepped into a narrow, concrete-walled corridor smelling of diesel fuel and old paper. Down the hall, a door was standing ajar, light spilling out onto the floor alongside the sound of panicked shouting.
"Get the shredder going!" Karl Kraven's voice boomed from inside the office. "I don't care about the logs! If Miller and his boys lost the kid at the diner, the cops are going to be on this property in twenty minutes!"
"What about the woman in the back trailer?" another voice asked nervously.
"Lock the trailer doors and dump the keys in the pit!" Kraven barked. "We're clearing out!"
Sam looked at me, raised three fingers, then two, then one.
Sam kicked the office door wide open, his weapon raised.
"Sheriff's Office! Nobody move! Hands in the air!" Sam shouted, his voice echoing off the corrugated walls.
Karl Kraven—a thick-necked man in his fifties with graying hair and an expensive leather jacket—froze beside a desk, a stack of ledger papers clutched in his hands. Beside him stood the two enforcers who had been at the diner twenty minutes earlier.
"Vance?" Kraven stammered, his face instantly draining of color. "What the hell is this? You don't have a warrant for my office!"
"I don't need one when I'm tracking an active kidnapping," Sam said coldly, stepping into the room while keeping his sights trained on Kraven.