Night had fully settled by the time Carlton stepped out of the vehicle.
The street was quiet. Dim porch lights, uneven sidewalks, the faint hum of electricity overhead. The house in front of them looked ordinary enough. A single-story structure with peeling paint and a crooked mailbox that leaned slightly to the left, as if even it was tired of standing guard.
Carlton lifted a hand, signaling his men to spread out.
They moved with practiced ease, positioning themselves on either side of the door, another two hanging back near the curb. The air felt thick. Carlton knocked once, firm and deliberate.
Seconds passed. Then they heard footsteps.
The door opened just enough for a face to appear.
Carlton didn’t need to say a word.
The man standing there froze the instant his eyes met theirs
