Underground Legends: The Hunt (BWWM)

Chapter 35 - Saint

Saint Botero (Male P.O.V)

October 28, 2074

The sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore came through the open doors leading out to the yacht deck as I lay back on the plush couch with my eyes closed.

Please let them be here. Please. I pleaded with any deity listening.

Time was running out for us to save them. The final round would begin soon. And if we didn't find them, there would be another bloodbath.

A hard nudge on my thigh made me crack an eye open.

"Are you ready to go?" Quinton asked with a slight jerk of his head toward the door.

I opened my other eye and slowly leaned forward, looking past the furniture on the deck to the palm trees swaying in the distance while backlit by a pale blue sky.

Roughly five hours ago, Quinton and I were going through the case files for probably the hundredth time, if not more, when he received a call from the team surveilling Cromwell. It had been brief as they relayed the information about tracking Cromwell to the marina, where he boarded a private yacht and set course for a nearby island.

At once, we set off for the marina, leaving everything behind. And since we didn't know what we would find when we got there, we contacted Detective Adler and Ken along the way and arranged for them to meet us there.

This was an opportunity we couldn't let slip through our fingers.

According to the surveillance team, since Quinton and I spoke with him in his office, he had kept a strict routine of only going to his house and office. Never anywhere else. Anything he needed, he had staff get for him. It was probably an attempt to throw us off his tracks, but we wouldn't give up that easily.

After arriving at the marina, it was by luck we stumbled on Timothy hosting a rather intimate soiree for him and two others aboard his own boat. We quickly commandeered it in hopes it would go unnoticed by Cromwell. And since we had made it this far, it seemed to be working. Plus, it helped that we had set anchor far away from the island but still close enough to keep an eye on things.

"Yeah." I finally reply, grabbing my gun and heading over to the door.

Quinton cracked a smile and followed me, but before we could take one step outside, Detective Adler asked, "Do you want me to radio in for backup?"

"No, we need to see if this is where he is holding them captive first. Cause if we don't..." Quinton let out a deep breath. "There's no telling what he'll do."

"How are you going to do that?" Ken asked.

Quinton backtracked to the couch and sat on the arm with his gun resting across his lap. "Saint and I will take a quick look, and if we find anything, we'll let you know." He tapped his ear, indicating the small black earpiece inside.

Ken started to nod but stopped midway. "And what's the plan if they are inside? Surely we can't just do nothing. They'll die."

"If they are in there, we need a way to shut down the game and rescue them before anyone notices," Quinton said more so to himself than us as he stroked his chin.

"We can cut the electricity, and that'll buy us enough time," I suggested.

"No, that's too risky. Right now, we have the element of surprise on our side, and once we do that, we'll lose it."

"Not if we find everyone first, then signal Ken and Detective Adler to cut the electricity."

Quinton stayed silent for a minute as he thought it over. "Okay, but we'll need someone to keep an eye on the live stream and let us know if you see anything that could provide insight into their location."

The four of us turned to look at Timothy. He was gently petting the man and woman on either side of him on the loveseat, and once he realized all eyes were on him, he stopped.

"Oh, no, no, no, no! I've helped enough." He waved his hands around, gesturing to the boat.

"I'm sorry, Timothy, but you have to do this. There's no one else that can help us." Quinton said as he set Ken's laptop on his lap. The website streaming the game was already up on the screen.

Timothy shot forward, ass hanging halfway off the seat. "Bu-but I'm not even a cop!"

"You don't have to be a cop. All you have to do is describe their surroundings to us." Quinton held out his palm with an earpiece similar to ours on it.

Timothy eyed it for a minute, and it seemed as if he wanted to argue against it again, but in the end, he took it with a sigh. "Fine, fine."

Quinton clapped him on the shoulder before turning to me. "Okay, let's get moving."