"You know what we're looking for people!"
"Let's go on there and get it!"
"Darren Steele has no place to run now."
The cold morning air hung thick with tension as Lilian Greaves stood outside the massive, slate-gray gates of the Navarro Warehouse.
Armed agents flanked her, a printed warrant in hand, and a heart pounding like a war drum in her chest. This was it — her break, her lead, the thread that would unravel Darren Steele once and for all.
She had a big proud smile on her face, like she knew she had already won. The security tried to stop them but they had no choice because of the warrant.
The Nevarro warehouse facility was now Agent Greaves's football field.
The gate opened slowly, groaning like an ancient vault. Inside, rows of steel racks loomed under fluorescent lighting, buzzing faintly. The warehouse seemed unusually pristine — too pristine. Lilian narrowed her eyes.
"Begin the sweep," she commanded.
