The air was crisp and heavy with dawn mist on the day of the mission. Outside the main garage, the operation was already in motion. We piled into our designated vehicles—some of the guys on blacked-out motorcycles, others spreading out into an assortment of plain sedans and heavy-duty pickup trucks. The goal was simple: blend into the morning traffic seamlessly so we could tail Roman’s convoy without drawing a single eye.
Everyone tapped their earpieces, testing the steady hum of the encrypted comms network. I climbed into the passenger seat of a sleek, dark sedan, pulling my tactical vest tight across my chest just as Drakon slid in behind the wheel beside me. His hands gripped the leather steering wheel with relaxed, deadly precision.
We pulled out in a staggered line, every team takin
