War in the Safe House

The night was unusually still, the air heavy with an unsettling quiet that blanketed the safe house on the outskirts of Madrid. Perched on a hill, the building was surrounded by a sprawling estate with high walls and strategically placed security cameras. Dario’s men patrolled the grounds with the kind of confidence that came from years of experience, but tonight, their usual sharp vigilance faltered.

Some of the guards were stationed at the perimeter, walking their designated paths with steady strides. On the second-floor balcony, two more men leaned against the railing, scanning the area with occasional, distracted glances. At the entrance gate leading to the main building, two guards manned their posts, their rifles slung across their shoulders.

They didn’t see it coming.