The warehouse stank of dust and sweat.
Wooden crates piled high to the ceiling leaned against one another like drunkards.
Ropes coiled across the floor and lantern light flickered against rusted steel beams.
The air was thick with the sour smell of tobacco and damp wood, heavy enough to choke.
"Move it, damn you!"
Roared a man with a coarse beard, his voice echoing across the rafters.
He clutched a clipboard in one hand, a half-burned cigarette hanging from his lips, smoke curling into his eyes.
"You want your pay tomorrow, then hurry!
Careful with that crate, idiot, do you know what's inside?"
Two men grunted as they stumbled with a heavy chest, nearly dropping it before the bearded man cursed again.
He scribbled furiously on his clipboard, puffing smoke.
Clang!
Went a crowbar as someone pried open another crate, spilling the smell of gun oil into the air.
