Thursday, 8:20 PM
The window slid open with barely a sound.
Kínitos went through first, dropping into a darkened bedroom on the second floor. Monty followed, landing silently beside him. They'd circled the Marlow Street house twice before finding their entry point—a bathroom window on the back side, partially obscured by overgrown bushes. Looking over to there right was a blunt on top of sink. Both man looked at each other as Monti nudge at Kínitos. As Kínitos puts it in his pocket.
The house was quieter than expected. Muffled voices drifted up from the first floor, but the second story seemed empty. They moved through the bedroom—sparse furnishings, unmade bed, clothes scattered on the floor. A typical safe house. Functional, not lived-in.
Monty eased the door open, checking the hallway. Clear.
They slipped out, keeping low, moving toward the sound of voices below. The hallway led to a set of stairs, and at the top they could see light spilling up from the first floor.
Kínitos gestured toward a room at the end of the hall—door slightly ajar, faint blue light flickering from inside.
Computer.
They moved quickly, slipping into what turned out to be a makeshift office. A desk dominated the small room, covered in papers, burner phones, and a laptop connected to multiple monitors. Security camera feeds cycled across one screen—views of The Stack's exterior, the street outside this house, several interior shots of what looked like warehouses.
Monty went straight to the laptop while Kínitos kept watch at the door.
"Anything?" Kínitos whispered.
"Give me a second." Monti's fingers moved across the keyboard, bypassing the screensaver. No password—sloppy. "They've got files on… shit, everything. Shipments, personnel, financial records, drugs a whole lot of drugs."
"Look for recent communications. Anything about the woman or Salmo." Said Kínitos
Monty opened the messaging app, scrolling through recent conversations. Most of it was coded—numbers, abbreviated phrases, locations by district rather than address.
Then he found it.
A message thread from two hours ago.
Marco D: Witness secured. Salmo has her.
Unknown: Location?
Marco D: Stack. Top floor. Holding until after tomorrow's meet. Then disposal.
Unknown: Understood. Keep her isolated. No contact with anyone.
Monty's jaw clenched. "Found her."
Kínitos moved closer, reading over his shoulder.
"The Stack. Top floor." Said Monti
"They're keeping her there until after the meeting tomorrow." Monti kept scrolling, then paused. His eyes flicked to the security monitors. "Hold on."
He pulled out his phone, connecting a cable from his pocket to the laptop's USB port. His fingers moved quickly across both devices.
"What are you doing?" Kínitos asked, glancing between Monty and the door.
"The camera system for The Stack runs through this network." Monty's screen lit up with the same security feeds. "I'm syncing my phone to it. We won't be able to control anything, but we'll have eyes on the building."
A loading bar appeared on his phone, filling slowly.
"How long?" Questioned Kínitos as he looked back at the door.
"Thirty seconds." Monty kept one eye on the screen, the other on the laptop. "This'll let us see guard rotations, which hallways are clear, where Salmo is…"
The loading bar completed. Monty's phone screen split into six camera feeds—different angles of The Stack's interior. He disconnected the cable, pocketing it.
"Got it." Exclaimed Monti, quickly showed Kínitos the screen. One feed showed the top floor hallway—long, dimly lit, with doors on either side. A figure in bulky armor stood outside one of the doors, unmoving.
"That's gotta be Salmo."
Kínitos studied the feed. The armored figure was massive—easily six and a half feet tall, broad-shouldered, the suit looking like something military special ops would wear. Matte black plating covered every inch, a full helmet obscuring the face.
"He's not moving," Kínitos observed.
"Guarding something." Monty swiped to another camera angle—this one showing the interior of what looked like an executive office. Empty. He swiped again. Another hallway. Another empty room.
"She's gotta be in one of those rooms on the top floor." Said Monti
"Top floor." Kínitos pulled out his own phone, checking the photos he'd taken earlier of The Stack's exterior. "That's the sixth floor. We saw it from outside—looked like private rooms, executive suites."
"So she's in the same building we're supposed to infiltrate tomorrow." Monti carefully closed the laptop exactly as he'd found it, then pocketed his phone. "That's either really convenient or really fucked up."
"Both." Kínitos moved toward the door. "Which means we go in tonight. Get her out before tomorrow's mission."
"And Salmo?" Monti asked
Kínitos's expression hardened. "If he gets in our way, we go through him." Said a blunt Kínitos
They slipped back into the hallway, retracing their steps to the bedroom window. The voices downstairs were clearer now—men arguing about something, a door slamming.
Kínitos climbed out first, dropping to the ground below. Monty followed, and they moved quickly away from the house, sticking to the shadows.
Behind them, the Marlow Street house remained quiet, its occupants unaware they'd been compromised.