The first light of dawn crept into the room, casting a pale glow over the disheveled figures of Eliza, Vaughn, and Ryle.
The remnants of the previous night's tension lingered in the air, mingling with the anticipation of the day ahead.
The information they had received about Harper, one of their most elusive enemies, ignited a spark of hope within them.
Vaughn's expression was cold.
"We need to move fast," Vaughn said, his voice low and resolute. "Harper is slippery, but if we catch him off guard, we might have a chance."
Eliza nodded, her eyes reflecting the same determination. "We'll get him, Vaughn. We have to."
Ryle simply adjusted his jacket and checked his weapon.
The trio stepped out into the early morning chill, the sun just beginning to rise over the horizon.
They moved with purpose, their steps echoing on the empty streets as they made their way to the nondescript building that served as Harper's clubhouse.
