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“Let’s do this.” He cracks his knuckles.

We split without another word. Pairs of men peel off into the darkness, heading down predesignated routes toward the target. Diablo and I move with a stealth that belies our size, ourshadows fusing with the night. The warehouse is a few blocks over, so we carefully make our way through the streets, sticking to the darkest spots.

Every step is calculated, every breath measured. We’re hunters stalking prey—one misstep, and we become the hunted. But we’ve played this game before, danced with death by the light of the moon. This isn’t our first tango, and those kids are counting on us to find them.

The sharp scent of the bayou is a pungent reminder of the rot we’re here to excise. I scan the empty streets, searching for signs of life, for the flicker of a guard’s cigarette or the whisper of a conspiratorial conversation.

Diablo shifts beside me, a silent titan clad in leather. We’re a pair of revenants who have risen to right the world’s wrongs, and as much as the silence speaks of danger, it also hums with the promise of retribution.

Tonight, we’re the embodiment of the UVMC creed. We seek vengeance for the voiceless, and wrath for the wicked. Together, we’ll tear down the fortress of Los Serpientes de Cristal, brick by bloody brick.

Up ahead, the faded blue warehouse’s silhouette stands stark against the night. High fences, crowned with barbed wire, encircle it like the ribs of a giant carcass. Security lights flicker and stutter, their shadows dancing with sinister intent.

Diablo and I press ourselves to the cool earth behind a cluster of neglected shrubbery. The rough fabric of my jacket scrapes against the leaves. It’s only a whisper of sound, but it raises my hackles.

I pull the binoculars from around my neck, lifting them to my eyes with practiced ease. As I study the structure, guards appear at different intervals. Juan’s sentinels are predictable in their movements, puppets on a routine string. They’re armed with rifles, slung casually over their shoulders, but not farfrom reach. Their stances indicate confidence, as if they’re comfortable and not on alert. It’s a good sign that Isabella’s friend wasn’t setting us up, but we can’t be too careful.

My pulse thumps steadily, a war drum in the quiet before the storm. I murmur to Diablo, “Two by the east wall, another pair making rounds.”

“A couple on the roof. Rifles.” Diablo’s gravelly voice is barely audible, but I catch every word.

My gaze sweeps over the perimeter, alighting on potential entry points, storing away the layout like a map etched in my mind. A delivery bay partially obscured by stacks of crates seems promising, an oversight in their fortress. If this were my den of evil, I’d keep the exits completely clear. Easier to guard.

Every detail sharpens the plan taking shape within me, each observation a piece in the puzzle we’ll use to gain entry. Somehow, we need to figure out if this is the right warehouse. For all we know, there’s nothing but weapons inside.

“East side’s our best bet. Less light, more cover,” Diablo murmurs.

“Agreed.” I nod, my eyes never leaving the target. “See anything else? Any kids?”

“Not yet. Let’s stay here for a while.”

“That’s the plan.”

My grip tightens on the binoculars as movement catches my eye. A side door creaks open, spilling a sliver of yellow light into the murky night. My heart clenches, a vise around my chest, as I watch a cartel member emerge, flanked by shadows that are too small, too hesitant to be fellow cronies.

“Shit,” I breathe, the word a ghost on my lips.

Children. Their heads barely reach the thug’s waist. Their steps are uneven and uncertain in the grim procession. Anger flares hot and fierce within me, a blaze that demands justice.How many innocents have these bastards corrupted? How many lives have been tarnished before they’ve truly begun?

“Got something?” Diablo’s voice is a rumble beside me. I glance over—he’s still fixated on the roof, counting guards and timing rotations.

“Kids,” I say, my voice hard as the steel hidden in my cut. “This is the place.”

Diablo’s rage radiates off his body, mirroring mine. These monsters have crossed a line, and we’re the ones who will set things right. If we’re lucky, we’ll send the guards straight to hell where they belong.

My mind races, every instinct screaming to charge in and put an end to this now. But I’ve lived long enough to know that blind vengeance gets people killed. We need a plan, a solid one that’ll save those kids and dismantle Juan’s rotten empire.

“Stay focused,” I command myself. “Watch and learn.”

We settle back into the shadows, counting and watching, taking in all the information we’ll need to breach the warehouse. Justice will be served. It’s only a matter of time. Until then, I have to be patient.

After watching the warehouse for several hours, we have detailed notes on the operation. I beckon Diablo with a tilt of my head, a silent command that it’s time to check in with the other teams.

We slink away from our hiding spot, careful not to make a sound. Betraying our presence would tip Juan off that we’re on to him. Can’t have that.

As we reach the rendezvous point, a couple of other men from our crew stand huddled together.

“Report,” I murmur, my voice low and even. The less noise we make, the better. This is enemy territory, and the darkness is both our cover and our foe.