Even in the dark, I could see the long barrels of automatic rifles peeking out from under their jackets.

“Those aren’t street thugs,” Declan said, his voice tense.

“They stand like military,” Roman agreed.

“We go in through the side door,” Roman said. “Maeve, stay.”

They slipped out of the car, disappearing into the shadows of the containers.

Victor stayed behind for a second, looking at me.

“Keep your head down, child,” Victor said softly, then he followed them.

I waited in the front seat, my heart drumming against my ribs.

The silence in the car was suffocating.

Then, the first shot fired.

It was followed by the rapid, deafening roar of automatic gunfire.

Shouts echoed over the sound of the rain.

I couldn’t just sit there.

I opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing downpour.

I crept along the side of the shipping containers, my boots sinking into the mud.

The gunfire inside the warehouse grew louder, then suddenly stopped.

A figure stumbled out of the side exit, clutching a heavy leather satchel to his chest.