The tunnel smelled like rot and river water.
Mark moved carefully, boots splashing through shallow streams that ran along the curved concrete floor. The ceiling was low enough that Ifizi had to duck in places. Rusted pipes lined the walls, some dripping slowly, each drop echoing in the tight space.
Behind them, the city noise faded.
Ahead, only darkness.
Rafi’s voice whispered through the earpiece.
“You’re clear for now. Thermal scans show movement above you, but nothing in the drainage shaft.”
“How far to entry point?” Ifizi asked quietly.
“Twenty meters. There’s a vertical maintenance ladder at the end. It should lead to the factory’s lower level.”
Mark’s senses felt stretched thin.
He could hear the factory now. Faint vibrations through concrete. Machinery humming somewhere dee
