We stepped out of the SUV and into the biting wind.

The cold hit my face like a physical blow.

My boots sank ankle-deep into the fresh drifts.

We moved down the narrow alleyway behind the building.

A single steel door stood at the top of three concrete steps.

Luca reached for the handle.

It was unlocked.

He looked at me, his eyebrows raised in the dark.

“A trap,” I muttered.

“We go anyway.”

I pushed the door open slowly.

The hinges groaned in the cold.

Inside, the air was freezing and smelled of wet plaster and stale grease.

We walked into a pitch-black kitchen.

A single bulb hung from a wire in the ceiling, swaying gently in the draft.

I saw a shadow move at the far end of the hallway.

“Down!” I yelled.

A burst of gunfire shattered the silence.

Plaster exploded from the wall near my head, showering my coat in white dust.

I threw myself behind a heavy wooden table.

Luca returned fire, his gun barking twice in the dark.

A man screamed in the hallway and fell hard against the floorboards.