“Black sedan,” Leon said. “No plates. It came out of the side street after the bridge.”

“Keep the speed steady,” Damiano said. “Do not let them get between us.”

“Copy that,” Leon said.

I gripped the edge of the leather seat.

My knuckles were white, the skin stretched tight.

“We are ten minutes from the gates,” Damiano said, his voice quiet. “You are safe in this car.”

“You keep saying that,” I said.

We came off the bridge and entered the warehouse district.

The streets here were dark and empty.

The brick buildings loomed like silent giants on either side of the road.

The rain was coming down harder now, hammering against the reinforced roof.

Suddenly, the lead SUV’s brake lights flared bright red.

Victor cursed under his breath and slammed on the brakes.

I was thrown forward, my seatbelt locking hard against my shoulder.

“What is it?” Damiano demanded.

Through the rain-slicked windshield, I saw a large delivery truck turned sideways.

It completely blocked both lanes of the narrow street.

Its headlights were off.

“Reverse!” Damiano shouted.