The night was cold, the sky covered in thick clouds that blocked out the moon.
The city streets were quieter than usual, with only a few cars passing by, their headlights casting fleeting glows on the wet pavement.
Ethan parked his car in an alley, killing the engine before stepping out.
He adjusted his coat, the air carrying a sharp bite as he made his way toward the abandoned warehouse at the end of the street.
Inside, the scent of damp concrete and old machinery filled everywhere. A few figures were already gathered near a rusted table, their faces shadowed by a single hanging bulb.
Ethan's eyes scanned the room, instantly recognizing them... his contacts, people he trusted to get the job done.
A tall man with a rough beard, known as Julio, nodded at him. "You're late."
Ethan ignored the comment and stepped closer. "How far along are we?" His voice was low, demanding.
A woman with short blonde hair, Ava, leaned forward, placing a tablet on the table.
