The first two shots took out the lights, plunging the godown into a flickering half-darkness.
"Spread out!" the masked man barked.
Six men charged forward, armed with metal rods, knives, and pipes.
Lara cracked her knuckles. "Ready?"
Daisy smirked. "Born ready."
One man swung a rod at Lara's head. She ducked, slid forward, and drove her elbow into his ribs. He gasped, stumbling back. Daisy flipped a crate for cover, kicking it into another attacker's legs. He crashed down, and she followed with a sharp roundhouse that sent his weapon skidding across the floor.
Another rushed Lara with a knife. She kicked his wrist—the blade flew free—then spun and caught him across the jaw with a clean left hook.
Two more surrounded Daisy. One grabbed her shoulder. She twisted, locked his arm, and slammed him onto the concrete. The other lunged with a pipe; she stepped aside, caught it mid-swing, and ripped it from his grip.
"That's mine now," she said, striking twice—once to his knee, once to his chest.
Across the room, Lara was trading blows with a bulky man nearly twice her size. He swung a wooden plank wildly. She ducked under it, jumped, and drove a flying knee straight into his throat. He dropped to his knees, choking.
Daisy hurled the metal pipe across the godown—clang! It smashed into a man sneaking up behind Lara.
The last attacker hesitated, hands shaking. Daisy cracked her knuckles. Lara raised an eyebrow.
He dropped his weapon and ran.
Silence followed, broken only by groans.
Lara wiped dust from her cheek. "Six on two. Not bad."
Daisy grinned at the masked man. "You should've brought more."
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The masked man was tied to a chair in the center of the godown. His mask lay torn on the floor, revealing a sweat-slick face and wide, terrified eyes.
Lara leaned forward, arms crossed, gaze ice-cold. "Start talking. Where's Dane hiding?"
"I—I don't know anything! I swear!" he stammered.
Daisy crouched beside him, tilting her head, a dangerous smile curving her lips. "You're going to tell us everything. You have two choices: cooperate… or regret ever being born."
He flinched, eyes darting between them. "I—I just follow orders! The boss… the boss handles Dane!"
Lara slammed her hand onto the table. The sound echoed.
The man gulped, sweat streaking down his temple. Daisy leaned closer, her voice soft, lethal. "We don't have time for games. Every second you waste will hurt. Now talk."
He broke. "Okay! Okay! Dane—he's my boss's boss. I only know my boss's hideout. An old textile warehouse near the docks. He won't be expecting anyone there tomorrow."
Lara straightened, a faint, satisfied smirk touching her lips. "Finally. You're useful."
Daisy's eyes gleamed. "Good. Now tell us how many guards he has and what weapons they're carrying. Every detail."
The man nodded frantically, spilling everything he knew.
Daisy stepped aside and made the call. "We've got a lead. A bunch of tough-acting kids ready for bars and 'hospitality.' There are women and goods here—we've freed them. Make sure everyone gets home safely."
Outside, the night air hung heavy.
By the time it was over, they had a full map of Dane's operations. Lara exchanged a look with Daisy, her jaw tightening.
"Tomorrow," Lara said. "We end this."
Daisy smirked, checking her weapons. "And nobody messes with us again."