CHAPTER 49: CHAPTER 49

The drive to Warehouse 7B was silent, the hum of the city a dull roar against the car windows. The happy feeling from their earlier success at the community center was gone, completely replaced by a cold fear. Ace stared straight ahead, gripping the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were turning white. Evelyn sat stiffly, watching the streets go by.

"You know this is another test," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, as if the car itself might be listening. "It’s another one of his traps. It’s always a trap with him."

"I know," Ace replied, his voice tight. "But we don’t have a choice. Not yet." What they didn’t say aloud was the real reason: they needed more of his money before they could afford to run away and disappear for good.

Warehouse 7B was exactly what the name suggested: a massive, decaying box of corrugated metal on the far edge of the industrial district, surrounded by a chain-link fence topped with rusting barbed wire. The only signs of life were the two black SUVs parked near a side entrance and the dim yellow light spilling from a half-open door.

Marcus was waiting for them just inside, a hulking silhouette against the gloom. The air inside was thick with the smell of dust, stale oil, and something coppery that Ace tried not to identify.

"Took you long enough," Marcus grunted, not bothering with a greeting. "The Boss has a job for you. A delicate one." He led them deeper into the cavernous space, past stacks of crates with faded shipping labels. "A van carrying very expensive electronics was supposed to arrive tonight. The driver has stopped answering, and the van’s GPS isn’t working. We need you to find out if the driver got lost, decided to steal the shipment, or was robbed."

He stopped in front of a small, cluttered office. On the desk sat a open laptop, its screen showing a map with a single, motionless red dot. "That’s the last known location. An old self-storage lot on the west side. Your job is to go there, find the van, and find out what happened. Don’t touch the merchandise. Just report back. Understood?"

The job sounded simple. Too simple. Ace could sense a trap, but he couldn’t see how it would spring.

"We’ll need the address," Evelyn said, her voice all business.

Marcus scribbled it on a scrap of paper and shoved it at Ace. "Get moving. And kid?" he added as Ace turned to leave. "Don’t screw this up. The boss doesn’t like losing product."

The address led them to a poorly lit, sprawling lot filled with rows of identical garage-style storage units. The place felt abandoned, the only sound was the whine of a distant highway and the flutter of a plastic bag caught on the fence. Their headlights swept over the units, finally landing on a white panel van tucked into the far corner, its back doors slightly ajar.

"This is it," Ace whispered, turning the engine off. The silence that followed was heavy and ominous.

"Something’s wrong," Evelyn said, her eyes scanning the shadows between the units. "It’s too quiet."

Ace reached for the door handle. "Stay here. Keep the engine running. If you see anything or hear anything, just get out of here. Don’t wait for me."

"Ace—" she started to argue.

"Just do it," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. This was his deal with Ramos. The risk was his to take.

He slipped out of the car, the night air cool on his skin. He closed his eyes and concentrated, using Audio Enhancement: Engage. Suddenly the world erupted into sound. The scuttling of insects, the hum of a power transformer blocks away, the frantic beating of a bird’s heart in a nearby tree. He pushed those sounds aside and focused his hearing on the van.

He heard it then. A low, pained groan. And voices. Two men, arguing in hushed, tense whispers.

"...told you this was a bad idea... Ramos will have our heads..."

"...shut up and help me lift this... we ditch the van and we will disappear..."

They weren’t hijackers. They were Ramos’s own men. The driver and his partner. They were the ones stealing the shipment, and they had been careless enough to get caught. This wasn’t a simple search mission. Ramos had sent Ace to discover the betrayal himself. This was a cleanup operation, and Ace was now right in the middle of it.

Ace crept closer, using the shadows of the storage units as cover. He peered around the corner. The two men were struggling to move a heavy crate from the van into an open storage unit. One of them, a younger guy with a nervous face, was favoring his leg. The other was bigger and seemed angry was doing most of the lifting.

Ace’s mind raced. He could just walk away and report that the van was empty. That would be the safe choice, the one that avoided a direct fight. But Ramos would know he was lying. Marcus was probably watching from somewhere nearby—this was all just another layer of the test.

He couldn’t just walk away. He had to be smart. He had to find a way to turn this situation to his advantage.

He focused again, this time not on listening, but on projecting. He cupped his hands around his mouth, and using the Audio Enhancement to modulate his voice, he threw his voice deeper, making it sound like it was coming from the other side of the van.

He shouted "Hey! You two! Stop right there!"

The reaction was immediate. The two men froze, their heads snapping up in panic. The younger man let out a surprised yell and lost his hold on the crate he was carrying. The heavy box fell and crashed onto the larger man’s foot. He roared in pain and anger, shoving his partner away.

"YOU IDIOT!" He yelled.

"It wasn’t me! I heard someone!" the younger one insisted.

While they were distracted and arguing, Ace moved. He slipped quickly and quietly to the driver’s side of the van. The window was open, so he reached inside and pulled the keys from the ignition. Then, he disappeared back into the shadows without a sound.

The two men were now having a frantic, whispered argument, blaming each other and looking completely spooked. Their plan to escape had fallen apart.

Ace made his way back to the car, sliding into the passenger seat. He tossed the van keys onto the dashboard.

Evelyn stared at him, then at the keys. "What happened? What did you do?" she asked.

"I found the problem," Ace said, his breathing slightly quickened. "And I contained it. They’re not going anywhere. Now we call Marcus."

He took out the disposable cell phone and dialed. Marcus answered immediately.

"Well?" Marcus said.

"The van is here, and the shipment is still mostly inside," Ace reported in a crisp and factual way. "Your guys were trying to steal it. Now they are spooked and arguing with each other. I have the van keys."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line before Marcus gave a low chuckle. "Good. Wait there," he instructed.

Ten minutes later, the two black SUVs screeched into the lot. Marcus and three other men got out. They didn’t even look at Ace’s car. They walked straight to the van. The argument between the two thieves turned into frantic, pleading excuses that were quickly cut short. There was the sound of a scuffle, a choked cry, and then silence.

Ace stared straight ahead, his jaw tight. He did not want to see what was happening. He had done what was asked of him and delivered the thieves to Ramos. He had been efficient.

Marcus walked over to their car and tapped on the window. Ace rolled it down.

"The boss is satisfied," Marcus stated in a flat voice. He handed a thick envelope through the window. It was even heavier than the last payment. "This is your finder’s fee. Now get lost."

The SUV’s pulled away, taking the van and the two traitors with them. The storage lot was quiet again.

Evelyn let out a shaky breath she seemed to have been holding for an hour. "Ace... what did they do to them...?" she began to ask.

"Don’t," he interrupted, his own voice rough. He could not talk about it. He could not even think about it. He just stared at the envelope in his lap. It felt like blood money, just like before.

The drive back to Unit B-17 was even quieter than the drive out. The weight of the envelope felt like a heavy brick. When they finally arrived, Silva was waiting anxiously by the door.

"What happened? Are you guys okay?" he asked, his eyes wide with worry.

"We are fine," Evelyn said, her voice sounding very tired. She got out of the car and went inside without saying another word.

Ace followed, dropping the envelope onto the workbench next to the community center check. The two sums of money sat side-by-side, a stark contrast. One clean and earned. The other, dark and paid for with a price he didn’t want to name.

He saw Evelyn wince slightly as she took off her jacket. A dark purple bruise was blooming on her forearm. He hadn’t even noticed it before.

"Evelyn, what happened to your arm?" he asked.

She looked down at her arm as if seeing it for the first time. "It’s nothing. I must have bumped it." But her excuse was weak and poorly delivered. The bruise was not from a bump; it was the clear shape of fingers, as if someone had grabbed her arm very hard.

Suddenly, everything made sense to Ace. He understood her exhaustion, the new bruise, and why she had been so nervous lately. It was not just because of their difficult situation.

"You went back," he said, his voice quiet and serious. He was not accusing her; he was just realizing the truth. "You went back to the underground fights after you promised me you wouldn’t."

Evelyn did not try to deny it. She just leaned against the workbench, looking completely defeated. "The money we make from our legitimate business is for our future company. But my rent was due yesterday, and my money is all gone. The fights pay quickly. I thought it would just be for one night, but it went badly. The man I fought was much heavier than he looked."

Ace looked from her bruised arm to the envelope of Ramos’s cash. He saw two different kinds of danger, but both led to the same outcome: pain and desperation.

He walked over to the desk, opened the envelope, and counted out a stack of bills. He then walked back to Evelyn and held the money out to her.

"Take it," he told her.

She looked at the money, then at him, her eyes flashing with pride. "I don’t need your—"

"It’s not a handout," he said firmly, cutting her off. "This is an advance on your salary. You are a partner in Aegis Solutions. Partners should not have to get punched to pay their rent." He pushed the money into her hand. "This ends tonight. We have other options now."

Evelyn stared at the cash in her hand and then back at Ace. The defiant look in her eyes slowly faded away and was replaced by one of deep relief. Her tough facade finally cracked, revealing the exhausted and scared young woman underneath. She gave him one sharp nod, too emotional to speak.

Ace turned back to look at the two piles of money on the bench. The way forward was now much clearer to him, but it was also more dangerous. To protect the clean money, to protect Evelyn, and to protect their future, he knew he would have to keep dealing with the dark, criminal world. But he promised himself that he would not let her be a part of that world with him. That was a price he was not willing to let her pay.