SOPHIE ALVAREZ'S POV
The CSI offices were less of a crime lab and more of a refugee center. It had been twelve chaotic hours since Captain Cole's bust at the docks. Instead of processing ballistics and drug residue, the labs were filled with immigration lawyers, trauma specialists, and a bewildered horde of federal agents scrambling to manage the fallout of the human trafficking bust. The initial shock of finding Vance's body on the steps had been overshadowed by the sheer moral and logistical weight of the container full of people.
I sat in the secure conference room, technically compiling intelligence on the structure of the Odessa Freight network but mostly watching the three other people at the table: Captain Levin, Detective Hayes, and Officer Mitchell. Nate had not shown up yet.
Captain Levin, usually immaculately composed, looked like he had aged a decade overnight. He was pacing, his hands tight behind his back.
