Chapter 5 The Silent Watchers

The coordinates led them deep into the outskirts of the city, where the glow of streetlights faded, swallowed by the thick veil of the night. Randi gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white, his mind locked onto a singular thought-Navaro. The man he had mourned, the brother he had buried, was out there. Alive. And he had answers.

Martha sat beside him, her pistol resting on her lap, her sharp eyes scanning the road ahead. "We're walking into this blind," she muttered. "We don't know if he's expecting us."

"He will be," Randi said, his voice low. "A man like Navaro doesn't stay hidden by accident. If Marcus found him, that means others could too. And if Redwell is involved, they're watching."

The tension in the air thickened as they neared the location. The GPS marked their destination just ahead-a small, abandoned factory on the city's outskirts. The building stood like a ghost against the skyline, its windows shattered, its walls streaked with grime. No lights. No movement. But Randi's instincts screamed otherwise.

He pulled the car to a stop a block away. "We go in quiet," he said, tucking his gun into his holster. "We get what we need and get out."

Martha nodded, slipping into the shadows as they approached the factory. The wind howled through the broken windows, carrying with it the scent of rust and decay. Randi pressed against the wall, peering through a crack in the boarded-up door. Inside, faint blue light flickered-computer screens. Someone was here.

He motioned to Martha. They moved in tandem, slipping inside through a side entrance. The air inside was thick with dust, the faint hum of electronics the only sound breaking the silence. Randi's heartbeat pounded in his ears as they crept forward.

Then, a voice.

"I was wondering when you'd come."

Randi froze. The voice was unmistakable-calm, measured, with the same controlled edge he remembered. He stepped forward, gun raised, and there he was.

Navaro.

Alive. Older. Harsher. His once-short hair had grown out slightly, streaked with silver at the temples. A faint scar ran down the side of his cheek, but the eyes-those sharp, calculating eyes-hadn't changed.

Martha moved to the side, cutting off any escape route. "You've got a lot of explaining to do."

Navaro smirked, barely glancing at her. "I imagine I do."

Randi stepped closer, his grip tightening on the gun. "You were dead. I buried you. I grieved for you. And now, I find out you're working with Redwell?" His voice was steady, but underneath, it burned with fury.

Navaro sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I was never working for Redwell," he said. "I was running from them."

Martha scoffed. "That's a hell of a story. You expect us to believe that?"

Navaro's smirk faded. He gestured to a row of monitors behind him. Randi hesitated before glancing at the screens. The images flickered-satellite feeds, surveillance footage, and one particular video feed that made his blood run cold.

A live feed of Marcus's warehouse.

And they weren't alone.

Figures moved in the shadows outside the building, dressed in tactical gear, weapons in hand. The Silent Watchers.

"Your hacker friend," Navaro said. "He's being hunted."

Randi's breath caught. "Who the hell are they?"

Navaro turned to him, his expression grim. "The people I've been hiding from. And if we don't move now, Marcus is as good as dead."

Randi didn't hesitate. He turned to Martha. "We need to go. Now."

She nodded, already moving. Navaro grabbed a duffel bag, slinging it over his shoulder as he followed them out. The night was no longer silent.

The hunt had begun.

They tore through the streets, headlights cutting through the night as the city blurred past. The warehouse was only a few miles away, but time was against them. Randi's foot pressed harder against the gas pedal, his mind racing through possible scenarios.

If those men got to Marcus first, he was dead.

Martha checked her weapon. "How do we play this?" she asked. "Guns blazing or silent approach?"

"We go in fast, take them before they know what hit them," Randi said. "If we hesitate, Marcus is gone."

Navaro loaded a fresh magazine into his pistol. "They're professionals. If we make a mistake, we won't get a second chance."

The moment they pulled up outside the warehouse, they saw it-black SUVs parked along the alley, their engines running, doors ajar. The Silent Watchers were already inside.

Randi motioned for silence. They moved along the shadows, pressing against the walls. Muffled voices echoed from within, followed by the sound of something-someone-being dragged.

Then a sharp cry.

Marcus.

Randi didn't wait. He kicked the door open, gun raised. The first man barely had time to react before Randi's bullet found his chest. Martha moved with deadly precision, taking down another before he could fire. Navaro was just as quick, his silenced shots cutting through the dimly lit space like whispers of death.

A hail of bullets erupted from deeper inside. Randi dove behind a crate, returning fire. "Marcus!" he called out.

A voice from the shadows. "Here!"

Randi spotted him crouched behind an overturned desk, blood trailing down the side of his face. The Silent Watchers had roughed him up, but he was alive.

Martha tossed a knife across the room, the blade sinking into an attacker's throat before he could fire at Marcus. Navaro moved forward, finishing off the last man standing with a precise headshot.

Then, silence.

Marcus staggered to his feet, coughing. "Took you long enough."

Randi holstered his weapon. "We need to move. More will come."

Marcus wiped blood from his brow. "Then let's get the hell out of here."

As they exited, Randi stole one last glance at the bodies littering the warehouse floor. The Silent Watchers had underestimated them this time.

But next time, it wouldn't be so easy.

And he knew there would be a next time.