The night sky stretched over the city like a velvet blanket, stars twinkling faintly through the haze of light pollution. Atop a towering skyscraper, four figures stood silhouetted against the moon, their dark outfits blending seamlessly with the shadows.
Blake, Reggie, Randal, and Gunther gazed out over the urban landscape, their eyes fixed on a distant point of light - the Red Zone, Elena's infamous brothel. Despite being over a mile away, the establishment's gaudy neon signs were unmistakable, a beacon of vice in the sea of darkness.
"Took us a whole damn week to find this place," Randal grumbled, his voice low and gravelly.
Reggie nodded, his expression grim. "Elena's not stupid. She knows how to cover her tracks."
"But not well enough," Gunther added, a hint of pride in his voice. "We found her in the end."
