The city lights stretched out before them like a vast sea of glowing embers. Hayes could feel the weight of the decision they had made hanging in the air between them. They were diving headfirst into enemy territory, and there was no guarantee they would come out unscathed. But sitting back and waiting to be hunted was no longer an option.
Wallace had given Hayes an address—a warehouse tucked into the shadows of the industrial district. It was the kind of place that didn't appear on maps, a forgotten corner of the city where the rules were written by the powerful and the ruthless. It was there that Wallace's contact, the fixer, would meet them.
The car rumbled down the empty streets, the sound of the engine echoing through the narrow alleys. The city felt eerily quiet tonight, but that only made the tension worse. Hayes kept glancing in the rearview mirror, half expecting one of Reed's men to appear out of the shadows.
"Are you sure this guy's going to help us?" Hayes asked, breaking the silence.
Wallace stared ahead, his jaw clenched. "If the money's right, he will."
Hayes wasn't exactly reassured by that answer. But right now, they didn't have the luxury of being picky. They pulled the car into a dark alley behind the warehouse, killing the headlights and engine. The building loomed in front of them, its windows boarded up, the walls covered in graffiti. It looked abandoned, but that was part of its charm. No one would look twice at a place like this.
Wallace got out first, scanning the area as he pulled his gun from his jacket. Hayes followed, the air thick with the smell of oil and smoke from nearby factories. Every sound felt amplified in the silence—the distant hum of machinery, the faint rustle of trash blown by the wind.
They approached the side entrance of the warehouse, where a single metal door stood ajar, barely hanging on its rusted hinges. Wallace pushed it open cautiously, his gun raised. Inside, the place was just as desolate as the exterior. Broken crates were strewn across the floor, and a single dim light flickered from a hanging bulb.
"Over here," a voice called out from the shadows.
Hayes tensed, their hand instinctively reaching for their weapon. Wallace motioned for them to stay close as they walked toward the voice. From behind a stack of crates emerged a tall, wiry man with slicked-back hair and a sharp smile that didn't reach his eyes. He was dressed in a faded leather jacket, the kind that looked like it had seen more than its fair share of violence.
"Wallace," the man said, his voice smooth but laced with something more dangerous. "Long time."
"Not long enough, Felix," Wallace replied, not bothering to hide the edge in his voice.
Felix chuckled, leaning against one of the crates. "You always were the cautious type. Can't say I blame you, though. With all the heat you two have been attracting, I'm surprised you made it this far."
"We're not here for small talk," Hayes cut in, their tone sharp. "We need information."
Felix's gaze shifted to Hayes, his smile widening. "And who's this? The famous Morgan Hayes, I presume? Reed's been asking around about you."
Hayes' stomach tightened at the mention of Reed. They didn't like the idea of their name circulating in Reed's circles. "What do you know about him?" Hayes asked, their voice steady but laced with tension.
Felix shrugged. "Plenty. But information like that doesn't come cheap."
Wallace stepped forward, his expression hard. "We're not here to play games, Felix. We need to know where Reed's base of operations is. We know he's got people looking for us, and we need to hit him before he gets too close."
Felix sighed dramatically, as if he were being asked to do something exhausting. "Ah, Wallace, always in a rush. But fine. You want Reed's location, I'll tell you. He's got a spot down by the docks, a private warehouse he uses for all his... extracurricular activities. You hit him there, you'll find more than just his men. It's where he's running his whole operation."
"The docks?" Hayes repeated, their mind already racing. It made sense. The docks were a lawless zone at night, controlled by whoever had the money and muscle to take over. It was the perfect place for Reed to operate without drawing too much attention.
"But I'll warn you," Felix added, his tone shifting to something more serious. "Reed's no idiot. He knows you're closing in on him. The place is heavily guarded—armed to the teeth, from what I hear. If you're going in, you better be ready for a fight."
"We'll manage," Wallace said, though his voice lacked the usual confidence. "Anything else we should know?"
Felix's grin returned, his eyes gleaming. "Just one thing. You didn't hear this from me."
With that, Felix disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Hayes and Wallace standing in the dim light of the warehouse.
Hayes exhaled slowly, trying to steady their nerves. "The docks. If we can get to Reed's operation, we might be able to cut him off at the source."
"Yeah," Wallace muttered, staring at the spot where Felix had stood moments ago. "But it won't be easy. The docks are practically a fortress. We'll need more firepower, maybe even a team."
Hayes nodded, already mentally calculating their next steps. They were walking into a death trap, but they had no other choice. Reed's grip on the city was growing stronger by the day, and if they didn't act soon, there wouldn't be any safe place left.
"We'll figure it out," Hayes said, their voice firm. "But we can't wait any longer. The longer we hesitate, the more time Reed has to hunt us down."
Wallace looked at Hayes, his expression a mix of determination and uncertainty. "I hope you're right."
Hayes turned toward the door, already feeling the weight of the coming battle. Reed had underestimated them before, but this time they were taking the fight to him. This time, they were going to end it.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the warehouse, drawing both their attention. Hayes reached for their gun, eyes narrowing as they watched the entrance. The tension crackled in the air as the door creaked open.
Two figures stepped inside. They were tall, built like soldiers, their faces hidden beneath black ski masks. Guns were drawn, and the moment they stepped into the light, they opened fire.
Hayes dove behind the crates, narrowly avoiding the hail of bullets. Wallace did the same, rolling across the floor as splinters flew in every direction.
"It's an ambush!" Wallace shouted over the gunfire, his voice barely audible.
Hayes cursed under their breath, peeking out from behind cover and returning fire. The two men were methodical, their movements precise as they advanced through the warehouse. These weren't just hired thugs—they were professionals, sent by Reed to tie up loose ends.
"We need to move!" Hayes shouted, firing off another round.
Wallace nodded, ducking behind a stack of crates and reloading his gun. "Back door. We make a run for it."
Hayes took one last shot before bolting toward the rear exit, Wallace close behind. The gunfire continued, bullets whizzing past as they sprinted through the warehouse. Hayes' heart pounded in their chest, adrenaline surging through them as they slammed into the metal door.
They burst into the alley, the cold night air hitting them like a slap in the face. The car was still parked where they had left it, but there was no time to celebrate. The gunmen were right behind them.
"Go! Go!" Wallace shouted, diving into the passenger seat as Hayes jumped behind the wheel.
The engine roared to life, and Hayes floored the gas. The tires screeched as the car tore down the alley, narrowly missing a barrage of bullets that shattered the rear window. They sped onto the main road, weaving through traffic as the gunmen gave chase on foot.
Hayes didn't stop until they were halfway across the city, the glow of the warehouse long behind them. Only then did they allow themselves to breathe.
"They found us," Hayes muttered, gripping the steering wheel so tightly their knuckles turned white. "They knew we'd be there."
Wallace leaned back in his seat, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. "Yeah. Reed's playing for keeps now."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The weight of what had just happened settled over them like a heavy blanket.
"We need to end this," Hayes said quietly. "Before Reed does."
Wallace glanced at them, his eyes dark but resolute. "Then we hit the docks."
Hayes nodded, their jaw set. "We hit the docks."