KAEL
The mobile command center was chaos controlled by sheer force of will.
Mine.
Three vehicles parked in formation outside the hotel: a tactical van outfitted with communications equipment, surveillance monitors, and enough computing power to coordinate a small war. Two SUVs flanking it, engines running, ready to move the second we had a location.
I stood in the center of the van, surrounded by screens showing security footage, maps with search grids overlaid, and live feeds from helicopter units sweeping the city.
My phone hadn't stopped ringing in three hours.
And I hadn't stopped answering.
"Status," I barked at the tactical coordinator, a former Marine named Hayes who'd served two tours under my command.
"Checkpoints established at every major artery out of the city, sir. Highway patrol has units stationed every ten miles. Nothing matching our target vehicle has passed through."
