The cold night air was sharp against their faces as Armando and his team stepped out of the sleek black SUV. The scene before them was chaos—a once heavily guarded warehouse now smoldering with damage. Smoke rose in uneven wisps, mingling with the metallic scent of blood and burning wood. Shattered crates littered the ground, and the muffled groans of injured guards echoed in the distance.
Armando’s face was a mask of calm rage, his jaw clenched as he surveyed the destruction. Antonio stood beside him, a tablet in hand, scanning through the security footage they managed to salvage.
“Looks like they came in fast,” Antonio murmured, his voice laced with frustration. “Took out the perimeter guards first. They knew the layout.”
“An inside job,” Alexander muttered darkly, already pulling out
