Ren and Drain moved when the noise outside peaked.
A convoy engine roared near the outer yard, voices overlapping, boots pounding concrete. The warehouse stood a little apart from the main barracks, a dull gray block with narrow windows and a single side entrance half-hidden behind stacked supply crates.
"That building," Ren whispered. "It is where they take accomdation."
Drain glanced at the guard route once more, then nodded.
"Five-minute window," she said. "After that, patrol loops back."
They slipped from shadow to shadow, hugging the wall. Ren's heart thudded hard in his chest, but his steps stayed light. When they reached the side door, Drain knelt immediately.
Ren watched her hands.
Thin metal picks slid out from her sleeve as if they had always been there.
"You carry those everywhere?" he whispered.
"Locks are everywhere," Drain replied calmly.
She leaned in close to the door. Click. Pause. Another click.
Ren held his breath.
