We clear the first checkpoint without incident. The streets are gray and wet with morning mist. It's quiet—too quiet.
Then Maksim
moves, a slight tilt of his head.
"Black sedan," he says. "Six o'clock. Holding distance."
The driver checks the mirror. "Could be civilian."
"It's matching our lane changes," Maksim replies flatly. "It's a tail."
I glance out the rear window. The sedan is there—nondescript, domestic make, tinted windows—three car lengths back, pacing us perfectly.
"Options?" I ask.
"We can push speed to break contact, or we can pull off and force an engagement."
"I don't want a firefight on open streets."
"Then we force them to show their hand," he says. "Driver, take the next right into the industrial park."
"That's off route," the driver protests.
"Do it."
The turn is sharp as we veer into the industrial district—a grid of abandoned factories and rusted loading docks. The streets are empty.
The black sedan follows.
It neither accelerates nor retreats; it maintains a constant distance, as if tethered to us.
Maksim draws his weapon, holding it low, beneath the dashboard.
"Stop the car," I command.
The convoy halts, blocking the narrow street and forming a defensive V-shape.
The black sedan stops fifty yards behind us.
For a long moment, silence reigns. The engine idles, and mist swirls around the tires.
Then, the rear door of the sedan opens.
Two men step out, dressed in gray and unremarkable. They don't draw weapons or shout; they simply stand by the open door, observing us.
One of them raises an arm and points toward the alley on our left.
Then they return to the car. The sedan reverses, tires spinning on the wet pavement, and speeds away.
Maksim is out of the car before the sedan disappears. He moves toward the alley, weapon raised, clearing the corner with fluid precision.
I follow.
I shouldn't. Protocol dictates I remain in the armored vehicle, but curiosity tugs at my gut.
The alley reeks of wet trash and rusty metal, with chain-link fences enclosing us. At the far end, near a dumpster, lies a shape on the ground.
A body.
