The warehouse on Jordan Road looked exactly like every other warehouse in that stretch.
Lian watched it from the roof across the street, chin resting lightly against the stock of her rifle. Kai lay beside her, tablet propped on a bag of old cables he insisted were still useful.
“You see the guard rotation,” Kai murmured.
“Yes.”
“They are bored.”
“They are paid to be.”
Kai zoomed in on a camera feed he had hijacked ten minutes earlier. “Third floor has motion sensors that were installed last month. Cheap brand. Easily tripped by rats. Someone did not care.”
“That means they are confident,” Lian said.
“Or careless.”
“Same thing eventually.”
She breathed out and adjusted her scope. No shot yet. This was not that kind of night. This was information. Inventory. Faces.
A truck rolled up and backed toward the loading bay. The driver jumped out too fast, nervous energy sharp even from this distance. Lian catalogued him and then the men who followed. Six. No uniforms. All moved like they knew where to put their feet.
“LSK subcontract,” Kai said quietly. “Same group from last month. The ones with the bad tattoos.”
“I remember.”
They watched crates get unloaded. Plain wood. No markings. The boring kind of suspicious.
Kai frowned. “This does not fit. If this was weapons, they would not hide them like groceries.”
Lian tracked one man as he wiped sweat from his neck and laughed at something off camera. “Then maybe it is not weapons.”
They waited. Forty minutes passed. Then an hour.
Kai shifted. “This is terrible for my back.”
“You chose the roof.”
“You chose the job.”
Touché.
Movement caught Lian’s eye. Not below. Beside. Reflection in a nearby window that did not belong to either of them.
She held up two fingers.
Kai froze instantly. His breathing changed. He did not look. He trusted her to tell him when.
Lian slowly rotated her head and found her.
The woman leaned against the parapet one building over. No rifle. No visible weapon at all. Hair pulled back. Hands loose like she was waiting for a bus.
She smiled when their eyes met.
“You really need to stop stalking me,” she called softly across the gap.
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Kai swore under his breath. “She climbed how far without tripping anything.”
“Very carefully,” Lian said.
The woman crouched, balanced easily, and stepped across the gap between buildings like it was nothing. She landed silently and stayed an arm length away.
“I had to make sure you were not walking into a mess,” the woman said. “You never listen to warnings.”
“You have never given one that mattered,” Lian replied.
“That hurts.”
Kai sat up slowly. “Do we shoot her or talk.”
The woman glanced at him. “You must be the brother. Shorter than the files said.”
“Still rude,” Kai muttered.
Lian did not lower her rifle. “Say what you came to say.”
The woman looked past them toward the warehouse. “That place is empty.”
Kai blinked. “We are literally watching people unload crates.”
“Yes,” she said patiently. “And those crates are full of scrap electronics. Old servers. Dead boards.”
“That does not make sense,” Kai said.
“They are bait,” the woman replied. “Designed to look interesting. Designed to keep you here.”
“For what,” Kai asked.
The answer came from below.
Lights snapped on. Floodlights from three angles. The warehouse doors slid shut with a heavy metallic thud.
Kai rolled to his stomach. “We are compromised.”
Lian swung her rifle downward but the window of clean exit was gone. Figures moved into position fast. Too fast for bored guards.
The woman sighed. “I hate being right.”
“You led them,” Lian said flatly.
“No,” she said. “I followed you. They followed both of us.”
Gunfire erupted. Bullets cracked against concrete. Kai scrambled for cover as Lian fired two precise shots that dropped men she could barely see.
The woman moved then. Fast and decisive. She pulled a pistol from somewhere Lian had not clocked and fired without hesitation. Three shots. Three bodies.
Kai stared. “Okay. She is officially useful.”
“Temporarily,” Lian said.
They moved together without discussion because chaos made strange allies. Lian covered angles. Kai jammed signals and killed lights where he could. The woman flanked, smiling like this was a workout.
“Next time we meet,” she said as she slid behind cover. “We should plan it.”
“Next time we meet,” Lian replied, “I shoot first.”
The woman laughed.
Smoke filled the air. Sirens howled in the distance. Not police. Something else.
Kai grabbed Lian’s sleeve. “We have two minutes before this turns ugly.”
“This already is ugly,” she said.
They retreated the way they came, scrambling back across rooftops under fire. The woman stayed until the last second, covering their exit, then vanished in the opposite direction with a casual wave.
When they finally stopped running, hearts pounding, Lian pressed her back to a brick wall and counted breaths.
Kai bent over with his hands on his knees. “I do not like her.”
“You should not.”
“She saved us.”
“Today.”
He straightened slowly. “She knew the setup.”
“Yes.”
“She also knew we would not listen.”
“Yes.”
Kai rubbed his temples. “That feels intentional.”
“It is,” Lian said. “She does not want us dead. Not yet.”
They walked the rest of the way home in silence, each replaying the night from different angles.
At the safehouse, Kai locked the door and slumped onto the couch.
“Well,” he said. “I guess that answers the question.”
“Which one.”
“We are not alone in this city,” he said. “And people are starting to care.”
Lian sat across from him, calm again now that motion had burned off the edge.
“Yes,” she said. “They always do.”
Kai looked at her. “We still go after the warehouse chain.”
“Yes.”
“Even after tonight.”
“Especially after tonight,” she replied.
He nodded. “Okay.”
