Chapter 41: The Mole
The night air was thick with salt and diesel fumes, the scent of the docks mingling with the cold bite of the sea breeze. The rhythmic sound of water lapping against the wooden piers filled the silence, broken only by the distant hum of engines and the occasional creak of metal shifting under the weight of heavy cargo.
Natalia moved like a shadow through the maze of stacked shipping containers, her black attire blending seamlessly into the darkness. She was a ghost, unseen and unheard.
The docks at this hour were alive in their own way—not with the usual workers hauling crates in the daylight, but with figures who thrived in the lawless corners of the world. Natalia had counted at least fifteen guards so far, scattered strategically around Warehouse 17. Some lingere
