The damp city streets were slick underfoot as Max and Elena charged forward, their breath forming ghostly vapors in the chill air. They turned a corner sharply, nearly skidding, the distant sound of The Hunter's gunshots their guiding beacon.
They found The Hunter standing over a wounded Kral, his gun trained unwaveringly on the man who had eluded and taunted them for months. Kral was sprawled against the dirty wall of an alley, his breath ragged, his usual smirk now a grimace of pain.
Max approached, his own weapon ready, the weight of long, hard nights etched in his eyes. "It ends tonight, Kral."
Kral's laughter was a wet cough. "You think catching me changes anything? There are others, Maxwell. The city breeds my kind in the shadows."
Elena stepped closer, her gaze icy. "Then we'll cut them down, too. Starting with getting what we came for. Where's the dossier, Kral?"
Kral's eyes darted between them, calculating, even now looking for an angle. He finally nodded toward a battered briefcase in the shadows. "In there. All the dirty secrets you could hope for. Enough to burn the city down—or save it."
The Hunter kept his gun trained on Kral while Max retrieved the briefcase, flipping it open to scan the contents. His face remained unreadable, but his eyes hardened as he leafed through the papers filled with names, dates, and transactions—all the evidence they needed to upend the corrupt backbone of the city.
Elena watched Kral, her voice low and dangerous. "Why give this up so easily?"
Kral smirked, blood staining his teeth. "Because, detective, the game is more fun when the stakes are high. You think you've won, but all you've done is set the board for the next play."
Max snapped the briefcase shut, his jaw set. "Let's get him out of here before he bleeds out on us. He still has a date with justice."
As they hauled Kral to his feet, sirens began to wail in the distance, the sound growing louder. The Hunter glanced down the alley, a frown creasing his brow. "Company's coming—might not be ours."
They moved quickly, Kral hobbling between Max and Elena, each step punctuated by his pained grunts. As they neared the street, the blare of the sirens became overpowering, and a fleet of black sedans skidded to a halt, surrounding them.
Armed men in suits emerged swiftly, their intentions unclear but their weapons unmistakable.
Max shielded Elena and Kral, his voice steely. "Who are you? This is a police matter."
The lead man stepped forward, his badge gleaming under the streetlights. "Special Affairs. This man is now under our jurisdiction, Detective. Stand down and hand him over."
Elena's grip tightened on her gun, distrust written all over her face. "We have jurisdiction here. He's a key suspect in—"
"Orders from above, Detective. Hand him over. You've done your part."
Reluctantly, Max and Elena stepped back as the agents took Kral, who couldn't suppress a knowing grin as he was led away. As the sedans drove off, Max turned to Elena, the weight of unfinished business heavy between them.
"We got the dossier, but it feels like a hollow victory," Elena said, her frustration clear.
Max watched the tail lights disappear, his thoughts dark. "It's not over yet. It's never really over in this city. Let's see what these papers can do."
They turned back into the darkness of the city, the dossier a small flame of hope against the encroaching shadows.