The wind off the Thames was sharp, biting at Frost and Blake as they made their way to the docks. The distant hum of the city was muted here, replaced by the quiet lapping of water against wood and the occasional clink of chains from the moored ships. It was an eerie silence, one that felt heavy with anticipation.
Dock 14 was one of the more isolated areas, a place where deals were done in the dark, away from the prying eyes of the city's law enforcement. Tonight, it would be the setting for a different kind of deal—one that might finally tilt the scales in their favor.
Frost scanned the area as they approached, noting the strategic placement of shadows and the open sightlines that would allow them to observe without being seen. Blake followed his lead, his hand resting on his weapon, ready for anything.
"You see anyone?" Blake whispered.
"Not yet," Frost replied, his voice low. "But they're here. Stay sharp."
The warehouse by Dock 14 loomed ahead of them, a hulking structure of steel and concrete. It was the perfect place for a covert operation—spacious enough to hide large shipments, secluded enough to avoid attention. But it also meant that Kazan's men would be on high alert.
Frost led the way, moving silently along the side of the warehouse, staying close to the shadows. Blake followed a few steps behind, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of movement. They reached a side door, locked but not heavily fortified. Frost pulled out a set of lockpicks and got to work, his hands steady despite the tension in the air.
Within seconds, the lock clicked open, and Frost pushed the door ajar, peering inside. The interior of the warehouse was dimly lit, with rows of crates stacked high along the walls. There were voices coming from deeper inside—men talking in low tones, unaware of the intruders in their midst.
Frost motioned for Blake to follow as he slipped inside. They moved between the crates, staying out of sight as they made their way toward the source of the voices. As they drew closer, the conversation became clearer.
"Everything's ready," one man said. "The shipment's loaded. We just need to wait for Kazan's signal."
"And the money?" another voice asked.
"It'll be here soon. Kazan's got everything under control."
Frost exchanged a glance with Blake. This was it—confirmation that the shipment was real, and that they were in the right place. Now they just needed to figure out how to stop it.
"How do you want to play this?" Blake whispered.
Frost considered their options. There were at least a dozen men inside, possibly more. A direct confrontation would be risky, especially with so many unknown factors. But if they could sabotage the shipment, they might be able to cripple Kazan's operation without a full-blown firefight.
"We need to disable the shipment," Frost whispered back. "If we can destroy the cargo, Kazan's plans go up in smoke."
Blake nodded. "And if we're lucky, we can catch a few of them alive for questioning."
They crept forward, edging closer to the main area where the men were gathered. Frost could see the crates now—large wooden boxes marked with shipping labels that hinted at their illicit contents. There were weapons, drugs, and other contraband, all neatly packaged and ready for distribution.
Frost's mind raced as he formulated a plan. They needed to create a distraction, something that would draw the men away from the shipment long enough for them to sabotage it. He spotted a stack of oil drums near the back of the warehouse, an idea forming in his mind.
"Blake," Frost whispered, pointing to the drums. "We can use those. If we start a fire, it'll force them to focus on putting it out. That'll give us the time we need."
Blake followed his gaze and nodded. "Good call. I'll handle it. You take care of the shipment."
Frost watched as Blake moved toward the oil drums, keeping low to avoid detection. Once he was in position, Blake pulled out a lighter and ignited a small cloth, tossing it onto one of the drums. The flames caught quickly, spreading across the surface of the oil.
Within seconds, the fire was roaring, and shouts of alarm filled the air as the men inside the warehouse scrambled to contain it. Frost used the chaos to his advantage, slipping toward the crates and pulling out a small explosive charge from his coat.
He set the charge on one of the central crates, making sure it was positioned to cause maximum damage when it detonated. As he worked, he heard footsteps approaching—one of Kazan's men, drawn by the commotion but unaware of Frost's presence.
Frost moved quickly, grabbing a nearby pipe and waiting for the man to get closer. When he was within striking distance, Frost swung the pipe, knocking the man out cold with a single blow. He dragged the unconscious body behind a stack of crates, ensuring it wouldn't be found until it was too late.
The fire continued to spread, and the warehouse was now filled with thick smoke. Frost could hear more shouting as the men struggled to contain the blaze, their attention fully diverted from the shipment.
"Time to go," Frost muttered to himself as he finished setting the charge.
He moved back toward the side door, keeping low to avoid the spreading smoke. Blake was already there, waiting for him, a satisfied grin on his face.
"That should do it," Blake said. "They're not going to recover from this one."
Frost nodded, his mind focused on the task at hand. "Let's get out of here before this whole place goes up."
They slipped out of the warehouse just as the fire began to consume the crates, the explosive charge primed and ready to blow. As they made their way back to the street, Frost glanced over his shoulder, watching as the flames danced higher into the night sky.
It wasn't long before the explosion rocked the warehouse, a deafening roar that sent a shockwave through the air. Frost and Blake ducked behind a nearby building, shielding themselves from the blast as debris rained down around them.
When the dust settled, the warehouse was a smoldering ruin, the shipment completely destroyed. Kazan's plans had just taken a major hit, and Frost knew that this would send shockwaves through the criminal underworld.
"That should get his attention," Blake said, his voice tinged with satisfaction.
"Let's hope it does," Frost replied. "We're far from done here."
As they disappeared into the night, leaving the burning warehouse behind, Frost couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning. Kazan wouldn't take this loss lightly, and the battle was far from over.
But for now, they had won a small victory—a victory that brought them one step closer to bringing Kazan down for good.