The city was a living, breathing beast of corruption, and Max Hastings felt its fetid breath on his neck as he stood in the predawn darkness. The crates at the docks had been a revelation, but he knew they were just the beginning. The real challenge was bringing Lang down, and that required more than just evidence—it required nerve, strategy, and the willingness to face death head-on.
Max and Evelyn were back at their safe house, poring over the documents they had seized. Maps, shipping manifests, coded messages—it was a jigsaw puzzle of Lang's empire. But one piece stood out: a name, "Red Room." It was scrawled on the corner of a map showing an abandoned building on the outskirts of the city.
"We need to check this out," Max said, his voice a gravelly whisper. "Lang wouldn't scribble this name for no reason. It's important."
Evelyn nodded, her face illuminated by the flickering candlelight. "But we can't go in blind. We need a plan."
