The dim light of dawn barely filtered through the cracked windows of the abandoned warehouse. Zara adjusted her crimson tactical suit, ensuring her weapons were secure in their holsters. Vera had insisted on a quick detour to regroup and resupply, but Zara’s instincts screamed that time was running out.
Callum sat cross-legged on the floor, cleaning a small handgun. His strength was returning, but his pale face betrayed his lingering exhaustion. Vera, meanwhile, was busy setting up a makeshift communications hub, her hands flying across a keyboard.
“Alright,” Vera said, breaking the tense silence. “I’ve pinpointed the Syndicate’s next target. A supply convoy carrying bio-engineered serums—experimental, high-risk, and extremely valuable to their operations. We intercept it, and we hit them where it hurts.”
Zara’s brow furrowed. “And how exactly do we do that? They’ll have it locked down tighter than Fort Knox.”