The air in Carlos Vega’s hideout was thick with tension. The remnants of his crew gathered around a warped wooden table, their faces shadowed by the dim light of a single hanging bulb. Their once-confident leader now paced the length of the room, his expression grim. Carlos had always prided himself on his ability to outmaneuver his enemies, but the war with Armando Rico was unlike anything he had faced before.
“We’ve lost another warehouse,” one of his lieutenants muttered, his voice barely audible over the distant hum of machinery.
Carlos stopped mid-step, his piercing gaze settling on the man. “Which one?”
“The one in the industrial district,” the lieutenant replied. “Rico’s men hit it last night. They left no survivors.”
The room fell silent as Carlos processed the news. Hi
