The car slowed as they neared the industrial edge of the city — gray warehouses, rusted fences, graffiti scrawled across concrete walls.

“This is it,” Petre murmured, cutting the engine. “You go in alone. They’ll kill him if they see me.”

Stefan nodded, already checking the earpiece. “Stay close. I’ll need extraction once I’ve got him.”

He opened the door and stepped out into the biting cold. The street smelled of oil and rain. His boots echoed against the wet ground as he ...