Chapter 1
Relentless rain pounds the asphalt of Port Vallis, a constant hum that wraps the city in its embrace. By day, the city is a collision of wealth and yearning: tourists in designer clothes wander along sleek streets lined with glass facades, marveling at the luxury yachts in the marina. Occasionally, sunlight glints off the skyscrapers of the elite, towering over the city as untouchable monuments. Chic cafés fill with patrons sipping expensive cocktails on terraces.
The sprawling port, alive by day with dockworkers in rainproof jackets rushing between stacks of shipping containers, transforms during the night into a stage for dark dealings. Beneath the silent gaze of towering cranes—metal giants stretching into the night—shady figures flit between the silhouettes of ships. The rain veils everything in obscurity, and here, the law of the street prevails, defined by dirty deals and power struggles.
It’s here, between the towering walls of the elite and the grimy docks, that Nate and Cole move like ghosts in the darkness. The rain envelops them, making them invisible as they follow the rhythms of the city and the night. They are used to slipping through the streets of Port Vallis, unseen, like part of the night’s mist.
The asphalt glistens slick with rain as Nate moves with quick, silent steps along the buildings. He pulls the hood of his dark blue hoodie lower over his face, though it offers little protection against the rain that has already soaked through the fabric, chilling his skin. Life in Port Vallis has hardened him. The rain isn’t an enemy; it’s a quiet accomplice, keeping prying eyes at bay and swallowing the footsteps of those conducting their business in the shadows.
“You ready?” Cole whispers, his voice almost lost in the night. Even with his balaclava and hood pulled low, Nate can see the determined glint in his partner’s eyes. That look—a mix of excitement and obsession—is all too familiar. They both live for the thrill.
“Ready,” Nate replies curtly, his voice barely audible. At that moment, Nova’s voice crackles softly through the headset, calm and precise as always.
“All systems are green. No movement, no cameras. The path is clear.”
Nate nods, glancing at the surveillance camera slowly panning away. That’s their cue. Without hesitation, he vaults over the apartment complex’s wall. The damp surface offers little grip, but he moves with the ease of a seasoned thief. Cole follows silently, his movements precise and practiced.
Their landing on the other side is cushioned by grass, the wet ground muffling their steps. Rain pours over their clothes, blending them into the darkness. They creep toward the metal door hidden behind the camera’s blind spot and pause.
“You’ll have one minute to disable the alarm once you’re inside,” Nova instructs. “Code: 1510.”
Cole pulls out his toolkit, the delicate lockpicks in his hands almost like a musician’s instrument. Nate watches in silence, the tension prickling at his skin as the faint clicks of the lock become the only sound. Seconds later, the door yields, and they slip inside.
The alarm emits a low, ominous beeping—a countdown that demands attention. The interior is cold and sterile, with polished floors reflecting the faint light from outside. It’s a space that screams wealth but lacks soul. Nate scans the wall for the small black box and quickly punches in the code.
“1511, right?” he quips into the headset, teasing Nova.
“1510, you idiot,” she snaps back, exasperated. Cole smacks the back of Nate’s head lightly, his expression dead serious. Nate stifles a laugh and enters the correct code. A double beep signals success.
“Let’s move,” Cole mutters, heading straight for the bookshelf. His fingers glide over the spines, searching for hidden compartments or fake volumes. Meanwhile, Nate rummages through the desk drawers, their quiet creaks the only interruption to the silence. His mind drifts to the man who owned this wealth—a self-proclaimed philanthropist raising money for “good causes.” Nate knew better. None of this money ever reached the people who needed it.
“Got it,” Cole whispers, holding up a neat stack of cash, bundled and banded. No unnecessary valuables, no paperwork—just what they came for. Nate could almost feel the weight of the money in his hands. It was a clean job—until Nova’s voice cut through the tension like a blade.
“A cop just entered the property,” she warned.
Nate shot a glance at Cole. “We’ll move fast.” But the situation unraveled faster than they could act. Voices echoed down the hall—footsteps, shouts, and the sound of a struggle. They ducked behind the desk, watching as three men in black suits dragged a policewoman into the room. She looked furious, but she was clearly outmatched.
“We need to help her,” Nate whispered.
“This isn’t our fight,” Cole hissed back. But Nate knew he couldn’t just stand by.
The men, too focused on their captive, didn’t notice the two shadows lurking in the room. One held her arms, another brandished a knife menacingly in her face. “You’ll pay for this,” one of the men growled. It was the opening Nate needed.
“Excuse me, but three against one? Seems a little unfair, don’t you think?” Nate’s voice rang out, startling the men. They turned, but before they could react, Nate had already grabbed the nearest one, landing a solid punch to his face. The man stumbled and dropped.
Cole didn’t hesitate. With practiced efficiency, he disabled the second man with a blow to the gut, followed by a swift kick to the knee. The man crumpled to the ground.
The third man, clutching the knife, lunged forward. But Cole sidestepped him easily, wrenching the weapon from his grip before delivering a powerful blow to his face. The knife clattered to the floor as the man collapsed.
“Let’s go!” Cole urged, his voice sharp with frustration.
But Nate’s eyes stayed on the policewoman. She was breathing heavily, her face a mix of fear and defiance. She straightened her uniform, trying to regain composure.
“You okay?” Nate asked softly, offering her a hand. For a moment, their eyes met, and in hers, he saw a flicker of vulnerability. Then, just as quickly, her expression hardened. She pulled herself away, her movements abrupt and controlled.
“We’re out of time,” Cole snapped, tugging on Nate’s hoodie.
Nate nodded, sparing the officer one last glance. Her long braid clung to her rain-soaked face, her sharp gaze unwavering. As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm. Her grip was firm.
“Freeze,” she ordered, her voice steady but commanding.
“Better arrest those guys first,” Nate said with a sly grin, pulling free. “Ciao, Officer,” he added, a smirk curling under his balaclava as he followed Cole into the night.
