Chapter 36 Chapter 36
The night pressed close, thick with the smell of rain and diesel.
From the hill, the signal yard spread below them — a grid of lights and movement. Floodlamps cast long shadows over rows of freight cars. Trucks idled at the loading bays, their engines humming low. Men in dark jackets moved between them, efficient, silent. Every crate carried the same symbol: the serpent curled inside a circle.
Nina crouched beside Adrian, the wet grass soaking through her knees. “There are at least twenty of them,” she whispered.
“Closer to thirty,” he said, scanning the pattern of lights. “No guards on the north fence. That’s our entry.”
“You’ve done this before.”
“Too many times.”
He slung the pack over his shoulder, eyes fixed on the perimeter. “Stay low. Follow my steps exactly.”
They moved down the slope, slipping through the tall grass until the ground turned to gravel. The hum of machinery grew louder — generators, engines, voices carried by the wind. The air vibrated with it, a pulse that seemed to come from the earth itself.
At the fence, Adrian crouched, prying up a loose section of wire. “After you,” he whispered.
Nina slid under, heart pounding. The metal scraped against her jacket, the cold sting of it sharp in the dark. Adrian followed, letting the fence drop back into place with barely a sound.
Inside, the yard felt like another world — a kingdom of shadows and noise. The concrete glistened with rain. Forklifts rumbled between rows of crates, their headlights cutting thin beams through the mist.
Adrian pointed to a low-maintenance building at the far end. “We can get elevation from there.”
They kept to the edges, moving between parked trucks and stacks of pallets. Nina’s shoes slipped on the slick ground. Each time a worker passed too close, her pulse spiked.
“Why so many men?” she whispered.
“Because whatever’s in those crates isn’t just weapons,” he said. “It’s leverage.”
They reached the side door of the maintenance building. Adrian picked the lock with steady hands — quick, practiced — and eased the door open. Inside, the air smelled of oil and rust. A narrow staircase led upward.
“Stay close,” he murmured.
The stairwell opened into a small control room overlooking the yard. Broken windows lined the far wall. From here, the entire operation stretched before them — floodlights painting the scene in harsh whites and yellows.
Nina pressed her hand to the cold glass. “It’s huge.”
Adrian’s eyes tracked the movement below. “Every crate’s bound east. Raske’s moving his merger supplies tonight.”
“Merger?”
“Bribes, currency, weapons. Whatever it takes to buy loyalty.”
He pulled a small camera from his pack and began taking photos through the cracked window. “These codes will link the shipments back to his network.”
Nina moved beside him. “And then what? We hand them to whom?”
“Someone who still remembers what law looks like.”
She gave him a sharp look. “You still think that person exists?”
He didn’t answer. He kept taking pictures, methodical, distant — until his hand stopped mid-motion.
Nina followed his gaze. Down in the yard, near the main loading bay, a man stepped into the light — tall, wearing a dark coat, his hair slicked back. Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“I know him,” he said quietly. “Gregor.”
“Friend?”
“Used to be.”
The man turned, giving orders to the workers in clipped tones. There was no doubt — he was in charge.
Adrian’s face darkened. “He was Viktor’s right hand. He should’ve been dead.”
“Then he’s Raske’s now,” Nina said.
Adrian nodded once, the kind of motion that meant danger. “He’ll recognise me.”
A sudden clatter made them both freeze — footsteps on the stairs below. Someone was coming up fast.
Adrian shoved the camera into his pack. “Hide.”
Nina ducked behind a stack of old machinery. Adrian flattened himself against the wall beside the door, gun already drawn.
The footsteps stopped just outside. Voices — two of them, laughing. The door creaked open, spilling light from the hall.
“Check the panels,” one said in Hungarian. “Boss wants everything working before midnight.”
The men stepped inside, flashlights cutting through the dark. One beam swept across the floor, climbing toward the wall where Adrian stood. He moved before it reached him — one precise motion, silent, striking the man’s wrist, sending the flashlight spinning. The other turned in surprise, but Nina was already moving. She grabbed the nearest object — a wrench — and swung.
The sound was sharp and heavy. The man crumpled. Silence followed, harsh and sudden.
Adrian stared at her, breath shallow. “You’re full of surprises.”
She dropped the wrench, hands shaking. “He would’ve seen you.”
He nodded, checking the hall. “We’re clear — for now.”
They dragged the unconscious men into the corner, out of sight. Adrian exhaled, leaning against the wall. “That’s twice you’ve saved me.”
“Then you owe me twice,” she said, voice unsteady.
He smiled faintly. “I’ll start a list.”
“Make it short. You’re not good at keeping promises.”
He looked at her then — really looked — and for a moment the tension in his face cracked. The light from the yard reflected in his eyes, twin sparks of gold.
“Maybe I’ll keep this one,” he said.
An engine roared below. They both turned to the window. Trucks were lining up, headlights flaring to life. Gregor stood at the centre, shouting orders. The last of the crates were being sealed and loaded.
Adrian grabbed the camera again, snapping the final shots. “This is it,” he said. “Proof of Raske’s merger.”
He turned to her. “Once we’re out, you send these to the contact in Vienna.”
“What about you?”
“I’ll stay long enough to make sure Gregor doesn’t leave.”
She shook her head. “You won’t make it five minutes.”
“I don’t need five.”
Before she could argue, a blaring horn shattered the air. Red lights flashed across the yard. An alarm.
Adrian swore under his breath. “Someone found the guards.”
Through the windows, men were running, shouting. The trucks halted. Gregor turned, barking orders. Floodlights swept the yard, cutting through every shadow.
“Lockdown!” a voice roared over the loudspeaker.
Nina’s stomach dropped. “They know we’re here.”
Adrian slung the pack over his shoulder. “Then we move.”
He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the stairs as the first beam of light swept across the control room window.
The alarm howled through the yard, a metallic wail that made the ground vibrate.
Floodlights swung wildly, slicing through the dark. Shadows ran in every direction — men shouting, engines roaring to life. The air stank of oil and ozone and panic.
Adrian pulled Nina down the stairs two at a time. “Keep low!” he shouted over the sirens.
The door burst open ahead of them; two guards rushed in, weapons drawn. Adrian fired once, the flash lighting the stairwell. One man dropped, the other dove for cover.
“This way!” he barked.