Max stood on the rooftop, the city sprawled out beneath him like a dark, twisted playground. The rain had returned, a relentless downpour that turned the streets into rivers of grime and filth. The neon lights of the city flickered and blurred, casting eerie reflections on the wet pavement. He lit a cigarette, the glow from the match briefly illuminating his chiseled features before he took a long drag, letting the smoke curl around him like a spectral embrace.
Below, in the alleyway, John and Rachel were finalizing the last details of their plan. Evelyn was already in position, her sniper rifle trained on the entrance of Ava Sloane's fortress. Victor Kane had come through, providing them with the layout of the building and the schedules of Ava's men. Now, they had to execute their plan with precision and ruthlessness.
