Max Hartwell stared out into the rain-soaked streets, the city's neon signs flickering like dying embers. The weight of the battle with the Syndicate pressed down on him, but the promise he made to Carmen burned hotter than any fear. He turned back to the office, where Carmen was propped up on the couch, her wound crudely bandaged. Gina hovered nearby, her face a mask of concern and determination.
"We need to move," Max said, his voice a low growl. "They'll come after us again, and we can't afford to be sitting ducks."
Carmen nodded weakly. "There's a warehouse on the outskirts of town. It's listed in Moretti's files as their main operations hub. If we hit them there, we can cut the head off the snake."
Max glanced at Gina, who was already pulling up the address on her phone. "Let's go. Carmen, stay here and rest. We'll handle this."
"I'll be fine," Carmen replied, her voice steely despite the pain.
