Diego's POV

“What do you smell?”

“Like someone pissed themselves,” Santo answered, wrinkling his nose. “And worse.”

“Not that, brother,” I said impatiently. “Sulphur. Do you not smell that? It’s everywhere. It’s sticking to the walls, under the floorboards…”

I walked around the now-empty warehouse.

By the tracks dragged through the dust and that groaning of the structure, I’d guessed that it was vacated recently—and in a hurry.

“Armando’s been using this as ...