Ares

The warehouse sat at the edge of the industrial district, half‑abandoned, half alive with the kind of activity men like Gideon used to hide their darkest operations.

Tonight, it was quiet.

Too quiet.

Perfect.

Leon handed me the tablet as our convoy of three SUVs rolled to a halt in the shadows.

“All surveillance cameras inside are tapped into our system. No one’s getting in or out without us knowing.”

“Good,” I said, stepping out.

The air was cold, biting, ...