The warehouse sat at the edge of the industrial district, tucked between two old factories that nobody used anymore. No signs. No lights showing through the windows. Just another empty building in a street full of them.
Ryan parked his car two blocks away. He always did. Never park right in front. Never make it easy for someone watching.
He walked the rest of the way. The night was cool and quiet. His shoes made soft sounds on the broken pavement. A few rats ran when he got close to them.
When he reached the warehouse, he knocked on the side door. Three times. Waited. Two more times.
The lock clicked. The door opened.
Kane stood there, tall and silent.
"Boss," Kane said. He stepped back to let Ryan in.
Ryan walked inside. From the outside, the place looked dead and empty. But inside was different. Lights hung from the ceiling.
A long table sat in the middle with papers and maps spread out on top. Wooden crates were stacked against the walls. A few chairs. A small office space in the back corner with a desk and filing cabinet.
This was where they did real business. Where they planned everything. Where decisions got made.
Matt stood by the table, looking down at something. He glanced up when Ryan walked in.
"You're here," Matt said. "Good. Come look at this."
Ryan walked over to the table. A map was spread out flat, held down at the corners by coffee mugs. Red circles marked different spots along the waterfront.
"I found him," Matt said. He pointed to one of the buildings on the map. "Third floor. The rebel you wanted."
Ryan leaned forward and studied the location. The building was old. Narrow. Right on the edge of the docks.
"How many people?" Ryan asked.
"Two guards outside the door. Maybe four or five inside with him. Could be more."
"Are you sure it's him?"
"Yes. My contact saw him collecting protection money for Jasper three days ago. It's him."
Ryan nodded slowly. He traced his finger along the map, looking at the streets around the building. One main door. Fire escape on the side. Windows facing the water.
"When do we move?" Ryan asked.
"Tonight if you want," Matt said. "Before he knows we're coming."
Ryan thought about it, looked at the map again. Thought about the guards. The people inside. The ways in and out.
"We go tonight," Ryan decided. "But keep it small. Just the three of us. No one else."
"Agreed," Matt said.
Kane moved closer to the table. "What about weapons?"
"Light," Ryan said. "Guns only. We're going in quietly. Get him. Get out. Don't make noise unless we have to."
Matt nodded. "After we handle this, we need to talk about something else."
He pulled out a different map and laid it over the first one. This one showed another part of the docks. Further down. Bigger buildings.
"Jasper has a shipment coming in," Matt said. "Two nights from now. Drugs. A lot of them."
"How much?" Ryan asked.
"Enough that losing it would really hurt him."
Ryan felt something cold and hard settle in his chest. Good. He wanted to hurt Jasper. He wanted him to feel pain. To lose something important.
"We also need to deal with Darkwater," Kane added. "They still have our goods. The ones they stole last week."
Ryan looked at him. "Same night. We hit Jasper's shipment first. Then we go get our stuff back from Darkwater. Two jobs. One night."
"That's a lot for one night," Matt said carefully. Not arguing. Just making sure Ryan knew.
"Can we do it?" Ryan asked.
Matt studied the map, thought about it. "Yes. If we plan it right."
"Then we do it."
Matt nodded. Kane nodded too.
Ryan's phone buzzed in his jacket pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the screen.
*Marcus: Just a question. If someone orders mac and cheese at a fancy restaurant, is that bold or just weird?*
Ryan's face changed. Just a little. The hard line of his mouth softened. His shoulders dropped slightly, like some of the weight had lifted off them for just a second.
He typed back quickly with one hand.
*Ryan: Bold. Comfort food is always the right choice.*
Another message came through right away.
*Marcus: Good to know. How's your evening going?*
Ryan stared at the words for a moment. His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
"Something wrong?" Matt's voice cut through his thoughts.
Ryan looked up. Matt was watching him. So was Kane. Both of them had stopped what they were doing and were just... looking at him.
"No," Ryan said. He put the phone back in his pocket without answering the message. "Nothing's wrong."
"Who was that?" Matt asked.
"Nobody. Just someone I ran into the other day."
"Must be someone if you're checking your phone during a meeting."
Ryan met Matt's eyes. His voice stayed calm. Steady. "It's nothing important."
Matt held his gaze for a long moment. Ryan could see the doubt there. The questions. But Matt didn't push.
He knew better than to push when Ryan said something was done.
"Fine," Matt said finally. He turned back to the map. "We leave in an hour. That gives us time to go over everything one more time."
Ryan nodded. "Kane, check the guns. Make sure everything works. Make sure we have extra bullets."
"Yes, boss." Kane walked over to one of the wooden crates and opened it.
For the next hour, they went over the plan. Step by step. Who would go in first. Where they would park the car. What doors to use. What to do if something went wrong. What to do if the guards saw them. What to do if there were more people inside than they expected.
Ryan asked questions. Made changes. Decided things. This was his operation. His call. His responsibility.
Kane laid out three guns on the table. Checked each one. Loaded them. Made sure the safety worked.
Ryan stood by the window, looking out at the empty street. The broken streetlight on the corner. The shadows between buildings.
His phone buzzed again in his pocket. He didn't take it out this time. Just felt it vibrate against his chest.
Matt appeared next to him. Quiet. Like he'd just materialized there.
"Ryan," Matt said. His voice was low. Private. So Kane wouldn't hear from across the room.
"What?"
"Be careful."
"I'm always careful. You taught me that."
"I don't mean tonight." Matt glanced down at Ryan's pocket where the phone was. "I mean with whoever that is."
Ryan didn't say anything.
"I've known you since you were seven years old," Matt continued. "I know when something's different. And something's different now."
"It's just a person I met. That's all."
"Is it?"
Ryan turned to look at Matt. Really look at him. Matt's face was serious. Worried, maybe. The same face he'd had when Ryan was a kid and did something dangerous. The same face he'd had when Ryan took over the organization at sixteen.
The face that said *I'm trying to protect you but I don't know if I can.*
"Yes," Ryan said. "It's just a person."
Matt didn't look convinced. But he nodded anyway. "Alright. Just... don't let it become a problem."
"It won't."
"Good." Matt walked away, back to the table.
Ryan pulled out his phone one more time. Two new messages.
*Marcus: Still there?*
*Marcus: Sorry, didn't mean to bother you. Talk later.*
Ryan looked at the words. His finger hovered over the keyboard. He should put the phone away. Focus on the job. On what they were about to do. On getting the rebel. On planning the shipment raid.
But he typed anyway.
*Ryan: Busy right now. Talk tomorrow?*
The answer came back fast.
*Marcus: Sure. Be safe.*
Be safe.
Ryan stared at those two words. Be safe. Like Marcus somehow knew. Like he could see through the phone and understand that Ryan wasn't sitting in a quiet apartment. That he was standing in a warehouse with guns on the table and plans for violence spread out on maps.
But that was impossible. Marcus didn't know anything. Marcus thought Ryan was just a server at a restaurant. Someone normal. Someone who carried plates and smiled at customers and went home to a small apartment at night.
"Time to go, boss." Kane called from the table.
Ryan put his phone away. Pushed all thoughts of Marcus out of his head. Locked them away in a box somewhere deep inside.
He walked to the table. Picked up one of the guns. Checked it even though Kane had already checked it. Slid it into the holster hidden under his jacket.
Matt and Kane were already moving toward the door.
"Let's go," Ryan said.
They walked out into the night. The air was colder now. Ryan's breath made small clouds in front of his face.
They got into Matt's car. Kane drove because he always drove. Matt sat in the passenger seat. Ryan sat in the back.
Nobody talked. The engine hummed. The tires rolled over cracked pavement. Streetlights passed by overhead, throwing shadows across their faces.
The city changed as they drove. Buildings got older. Dirtier. Windows were broken or boarded up. Fewer lights. Fewer people on the streets.
Finally, they reached the docks. The smell of salt water and old fish filled the air. Shipping containers were stacked like giant blocks. Cranes stood frozen against the dark sky.
Kane slowed the car. Turned down a side street. Parked in the shadows between two buildings.
He turned off the engine. The sudden quiet was loud.
"That's it," Matt said quietly. He pointed through the windshield at a building down the block. Four stories. Dark windows. A single light above the door.
"Two guards like you said," Kane observed.
Ryan leaned forward and looked. Two men stood outside the entrance. Big. Arms crossed. One of them was smoking a cigarette. The orange glow lit up his face every time he took a drag.
"We go through the back," Ryan said. "Up the fire escape. Third floor. In through the window. Fast and quiet."
"What about the guards?" Kane asked.
"Leave them. They'll know we were here after we're already gone."
Matt turned in his seat to look at Ryan. "You sure?"
"I'm sure."
Ryan reached forward and tapped Matt's shoulder. "The drink."
Matt didn't ask questions. He just opened the glove compartment and pulled out a small silver flask. Handed it back to Ryan.
Ryan unscrewed the cap. The sharp smell of whiskey filled the car. He took a long swallow. The liquid burned going down his throat. Warm. Familiar.
He took another drink. Then one more.
"You good?" Matt asked, watching him in the rearview mirror.
"Yeah." Ryan screwed the cap back on and handed the flask to Matt. "I'm good now."
Kane and Matt exchanged a quick glance but said nothing. They were used to this. Ryan always drank before a job. Just a little. Just enough.
It helped, somehow. Made things easier. Made the next morning less heavy when he couldn't quite remember all the details of what happened the night before.
Ryan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His mind felt clearer now. Sharper. Ready.
"Let's go," he said.
They got out of the car.
Closed the doors softly. Moved through the shadows toward the building.
Ryan's heart beat steady and slow in his chest. His mind was clear. Focused. Empty of everything except the job.
This was who he really was. Not the person who shared cake at cafés. Not the person who smiled at text messages about macaroni and cheese.
He was Ryan Slade. The leader of an organization built on violence and fear.
And tonight, they had work to do.