The dimly lit office of the warehouse was enveloped in an unsettling silence, punctuated only by the gentle hum of the laptop's cooling fan and the distant sound of water dripping from a rusted pipe. Rafael Morales reclined in his plush leather chair, its surface polished but cracked from years of use, a fresh cigar smoldering between his fingers, its smoke curling into the air like a ghostly finger beckoning. Before him, the screen glowed with a live feed from a hidden camera positioned ...