The abandoned warehouse looms against the stormy sky, its rusted metal walls groaning under the increasing wind.
Jackson stands at the entrance, his expensive suit a stark contrast to the decrepit surroundings. Behind him, Marcus shifts nervously.
"Sir, this could be a trap," Marcus whispers, his hand resting on his concealed weapon.
Jackson's face remains impassive, though his nostrils flare slightly as he scents the air. "Twenty-three wolves inside. Heavily armed." His voice is cold and calculated. "Keep the perimeter secured."
Inside, the warehouse is a maze of shadows and rusted machinery.
Water drips somewhere in the darkness, creating an irregular rhythm that sets Jackson's teeth on edge.
Industrial lights flicker overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow that does little to di
