Rain hit the city hard.
Streetlights glowed pale through the fog.
Lucian’s car rolled slow through the docks.
He didn’t speak. His thoughts were steel.
Marco sat beside him, silent.
The smell of salt and smoke filled the car.
Lucian’s phone buzzed once. He read the message, then deleted it.
Marco said, “Bad news?”
Lucian said, “Maybe. Depends who sent it.”
They reached the old warehouse.
Lucian stepped out. The ground was wet, and thunder shook the air.
He walked inside. The sound of the rain faded behind metal doors.
Five men waited around the steel table.
Maps, guns, and black files were spread open.
Dario, Vince, Leo, Tomas, and Marco took their places.
Lucian removed his coat and looked at them.
“Talk,” he said.
Dario opened a folder. “We followed the trail. It goes ba
