I did not for a moment look back at the cell.I had memorized everything already. The cracks in the wall, the way the paint peeled near the sink, even the spot on the floor where the light never quite reached. Looking back would have been a waste of time, and time was the only thing I did not have.The corridor was quiet, but not empty. There was always sound in a place like this. A cough echoed from somewhere down the hall, a boot struck concrete below and the low hum of electricity moved through old wires.As I walked, I counted my steps without moving my lips. Twelve to the corner, pause, then seven more. The door was in view, and the systems barely caught it. The uniform fit the way it was supposed to—too loose in the shoulders, the sleeves stiff with overuse. I had worn it long enough to know how to move in it without drawing attention. My head stayed slightly lowered, not enough to look guilty but I didn’t look too confident either. There was a balance to these things.At the co

The knock came when I was halfway through pulling my boots back on. I froze, listening as another knock followed. “Who is there?” I called but no one answered so I crossed the room and opened the door just enough to look out. The hallway was empty and there was no sound of receding footsteps. Only just the hum of the vending machine and a flickering light at the far end and it left me wondering. But then I looked down and my eyes fell on an envelope laying on the floor.“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I muttered.I scanned the hallway once more before picking it up. It was heavier than paper had any right to be and surprisingly, it had no stamp. Just the room number written cleanly, like whoever dropped it knew exactly where I’d be standing when I found it.Inside the room, I locked the door and set the envelope on the desk. I stared at it for a long moment before tearing it open.A stack of cash that looked like it had passed through too many hands to keep a story was the first thin

Plans spread across the hood of the van, paper held down by Marcus’s elbow and the weak beam of the flashlight. The warehouse loomed ahead, dark except for the shadows we cast under the streetlights.“Corners checked?” Marcus asked, a cigarette glowing red in the dark. Tom and Riley moved around the building, rifles ready.“All clear,” Tom whispered back.“Back door’s yours,” Marcus said, nodding at me. “Just in and out, keep it clean.”I lifted my hands, feeling the weight of the gun under my jacket. “Yeah… it’s a light piece. In and out.”Marcus smirked. “Don’t get cute. Everything’s always a light piece to you.”I didn’t answer, just moved. Tom tapped the wall at the other end. “All clear.”Marcus crouched, checking the padlock, metal scraping softly. “Riley, ready?”“Always.”The lock gave way with a dull snap. We slipped inside.Boxes were stacked haphazardly, some split open, others marked with fading stencils. Dust motes drifted in the flashlight’s beam, thick enough to taste

I followed Marcus down the long hallway, my boots echoing against the polished marble. The mansion was quiet, too quiet… as if it were waiting to see what we’d do next. Marcus walked ahead, calm, confident, every step measured. I kept my head low, shoulders relaxed. Outwardly, I looked like a man who obeyed but inside, I was alert, noting everything.We reached the planning room. Maps were spread across the table, dotted with pins, scribbled notes, and routes. A single lamp cast stark light over the scene, highlighting every crease and fold. The air smelled faintly of coffee and dust. In the corners, the faint hum of the security system ticked quietly, like a heartbeat.“Sit,” Marcus said, pointing at the chair opposite him and I sat without hesitation, dropping into the seat with quiet precision.“Good. Now that everyone’s here, listen carefully. This has to be a clean job. We can't afford to make mistakes,” he said, scanning the room.“Yes, sir,” the men chorused, voices low but fir

For a moment, I thought he might stop me. He might reach for the door, raise his voice, call someone in and remind me who he believed he was. Instead, he smiled.“Be quick,” he said but I didn’t answer. I was already walking away. The door closed behind me with a soft, final sound. The rain met me immediately, cold against my face as I crossed the yard. I didn’t look back. I got into the car, slammed the door and drove east. The city thinned behind me. First the lights disappeared, then the buildings, then the noise. Traffic faded into empty roads, reflecting nothing but headlights and the rain. Thirty minutes later, the road narrowed. The pavement gave way to gravel and the tires kicked up water and stone. The trees began to close in on me and everywhere grew darker. I drove until finally, I pulled in and stopped. The air smelled like pine and damp earth. I stepped out and shut the door quietly. The car disappeared behind me as I moved off the road and into the brush. The path w