Page 33 of Ethan's Command

Ethan plugged the USB drive into the laptop that was in front of him. “While I was there, I talked to everyone in the shops around that corner. One of them, a dry cleaner, had a nanny cam hidden in a potted plant. When the cops came through, the kid working the counter didn’t know it existed, so he couldn’t tell them about it.”

Rusty leaned closer. “But you spotted it?”

“Yep. The owner installed it to keep an eye on her nephew, who’s been skimming cash from the register. She didn’t even realize the camera caught something important until I pointed it out. She gave me the footage.”

Ethan navigated to the video and then teed it up to a few minutes before when Brooklyn said the whole thing went down. “Let’s take a look,” he said, clicking play.

The grainy footage showed Liam walking along to the corner. Moments later, a van screeched to a halt in front of him. Two men jumped out, moving fast. Then Brooklyn appeared, her figure tense as she lunged at one of the men, striking his neck. The struggle played out in the frame—Brooklyn clinging to Liam as the other man tried to drag him toward the van.

Ethan paused the video. “Shit,” he said, zooming in on the men. “Those are definitely Yakuza tats. I spent some time looking them up online so I could identify them on sight. They both have sleeves and this guy”—he pointed to the one holding Liam—“has some on his neck.”

Rusty grunted. “Confirmation on the Yakuza connection. But that still doesn’t explain what they wanted with Liam.”

Ethan hit play. The guy pulling on Liam’s arm looked up suddenly. Ethan paused again. “It’s just like Brooklyn said. Some guy yelled from down the block, and it spooked them.”

Hitting play again, Ethan leaned forward in his chair to study the screen. The guy let go of Liam, shoved his buddy into the van, and they sped out of the frame. Ethan paused the video.

“Not very professional,” Cooper commented, his voice laced with sarcasm.

“Not even close,” Rusty muttered.

Ethan leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. “This wasn’t well thought out. It wasn’t planned. They realized where Liam was and acted fast. These tattooed guys are for sure Yakuza.”

Rusty ate another fry. “I think I have to agree with you. Looking at the video, if they didn’t tail Brooklyn, then someone had to have tipped them off.”

Copper whistled low. “That’s not good.”

“No, it’s not,” Ethan said grimly. “Either someone in that café is connected, or there was a lookout. But it begs the question once again: Why were they looking for Liam in the first place? Having a lookout would imply they knew he would be there. Why would the Yakuza know where a group of kids play video games after school?”

“Do you think it could have been the kids Liam was with?” Rusty asked then ate his last fry.

Ethan tapped the desktop, his fingers drumming an anxious rhythm. “No, it’s not the kids. They didn’t say anything at least not on purpose.” He leaned back, his jaw tightening. “I’ve talked to them. They’re not the type to have contacts with the Yakuza—they’re just not. So if those two boys tipped off the Yakuza, they did it unintentionally. I think someone else had to tell them where Liam would be.”

Rusty tilted his head, his brow furrowed in thought. “Don’t they normally play at Dave’s Café? Didn’t you tell me that’s their usual spot?”

“They do,” Ethan agreed, “but not on Tuesdays. That’s what makes this so strange. This was a one-off, not something they normally do. It would’ve been out of the ordinary—something no one could predict unless they had inside information.”

Cooper leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “Do you think it was someone who works at the café?”

Ethan’s shrug was tight with frustration. “It’s a possibility. I can’t say for sure. It could be someone who works there. Maybe the Yakuza spread the word, and someone recognized them. Or maybe someone overheard a conversation. Right now, it’s all guesswork.”

“Or…” Rusty added, “Someone at the café is connected and tipped them off.”

Ethan nodded grimly. “That’s possible too.”

“Run the video again,” Cooper suggested.

Ethan hit play, and they all watched the footage one more time. The van, the struggle, the sudden retreat—it played out like a chaotic blur on the grainy screen. At the end, Ethan zoomed in on the driver of the van. The man’s face was partially obscured, but the image was clear enough to make out key details.

“I think this is the closest we’re going to get to a clear shot,” Ethan said.

Rusty leaned in, studying the screen. “Agreed. He’s your best bet. We’ll run this through facial recognition.”

“Can you handle that?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, I’ve got it,” Rusty replied. “Where are you going?”

“I’m heading back to the café,” Ethan said, standing and grabbing his jacket. “I need to talk to some people and see if I can figure out what’s going on.”

---