The warehouse district was a ghost town, a collection of dark, skeletal buildings hunched against the night sky. The air was cold and smelled of rust and the nearby, unseen water of the docks. Kofi moved through the shadows, a silent, dark figure in a black hoodie, his heart a steady, rhythmic drum in his chest.
He did not go to the designated warehouse. That was the trap. Their plan, the one he and Thea had devised, was more subtle.
He circled around the block, his movements quick and quiet, using the satellite maps stored in his memory. He found the weak spot in the chain-link fence that Thea had identified, a place where the rust had eaten away at the links. He slipped through, the metal scraping softly against his jacket.
He was now in the back alley of the warehouse complex. He found the fire escape on the adjacent building, another detail from Thea's careful observations. He climbed, his hands and feet finding easy purchase on the cold, rusted metal.
