While the others scrambled to locate Ji Jingxu, on the far side of Imperial, the roar of Qi Li's motorcycle faded into silence as he rolled to a stop near a rundown building tucked deep in a secluded industrial area.
He had followed the van—the one driven by the three men who took Ji Jingxu—all the way here. The snowy, slippery roads had made it difficult, but he had kept his distance, maneuvering carefully to avoid losing them.
Somewhere along the route, during a sharp turn, his phone had slipped from his pocket and skidded into the darkness. He knew then—he was on his own. No backup. No way to contact the others.
He parked his motorcycle at a distance that would not attract unwanted attention.
Removing his helmet, Qi Li advanced toward the building with silent, calculated steps. His eyes swept across the perimeter, scanning for signs of movement, for anyone lurking in the shadows.
