KROSS

The warehouse was pitch-black under the night light, and it was quiet. Typical of illegal spaces.

From the roof across the street, I watched the place through binoculars, my jaw tight. My shoulders were stiff, my breathing hard. The city lights didn’t reach this part of town. It was just darkness; anyone lurking around these areas was sure to get attacked or mogged. Everyone around here was wild.

“Two black vans just pulled in,” my guy Marcus said through the comms. “License ...