Dressed and steady enough to walk, Nikolai followed the guards down a narrow hallway.
His head still throbbed, but he forced each step to look sure and controlled. Stewart limped behind him, quiet and pale, eyes darting anywhere but forward.
They stopped at a heavy steel door. One of the men knocked twice and pushed it open.
The space beyond opened wide, a warehouse, clean but cold.
Bright lights hung low, catching the edges of a long steel table in the center.
Moreno stood at that table with several men spread around him. No one talked; the quiet was heavier than before. He glanced up when Nikolai and Stewart were walked in.
Moreno's eyes moved past Nikolai first, landing on the old mechanic. "Brian," he said calmly, nodding to one of his men. "Take the old man home."
Stewart's body stiffened. For a second, panic showed in his face, the kind of fear only men who've seen quiet killings understand. But Moreno's voice cut again, steady and clear.
"Brian here will take him home," Moreno said, gaze returning to Nikolai, "and keep a close eye. While we work here. If you fail, he will take action. So if you're lying to me, make sure luck's on your side… or you really are as convincing as you think."
Brian nodded once and stepped forward. Stewart hesitated but didn't resist when the man motioned him along.
Another guard followed as they headed toward a black SUV near the far wall.
The engine rumbled to life and within moments they were gone, leaving the echo of tires on concrete behind.
Nikolai stayed where he was, standing alone now in the open space across from Moreno and his men.
It was quiet again. Just the sound of the big lights buzzing faintly overhead and the faint hum of a car idling somewhere outside.
Moreno didn't speak right away. He simply studied Nikolai like a man inspecting a new tool, deciding if it was worth keeping or tossing.
Nikolai met the stare without flinching, but he didn't speak either. In this kind of room, the first one to fill silence usually lost ground.
Moreno slid a slim black folder across the table toward Nikolai. "Take those. You wanted to be tested, here's your chance. One of my shipments was stolen again. I've got word it's being moved out of the capital and into this city. You've got two possible windows: hit them once they arrive here or catch them when they leave their warehouse for the docks."
He tapped the folder once. "Your window is now, when they bring it into the city."
Nikolai picked the file up, flipping through the first few pages. Route notes, small photographs, times scribbled in the margins. It was enough to map a plan.
"What's in the shipment?" he asked without looking up.
Moreno's face stayed flat. "None of your concern. Getting it back is."
Nikolai nodded slightly and kept reading. License plates. A list of known guards. A note about two trucks, one decoy.
"You can take it home," Moreno said. "Tomorrow you'll come back here to meet the team I'm assigning you. I don't trust you to work alone."
That was fair; Nikolai didn't have anyone in this world yet who could help with something this big. "Resources?" he asked. "Cars, guns?"
Moreno's eyes stayed on him but his answer was simple. "Don't worry about guns. You'll be armed. As for cars…" He turned his head slightly, and one of his men hit a button on the wall.
Bright overhead lights flicked on fully, revealing more of the warehouse, sleek black SUVs, vans with dark windows, and a row of unmarked sedans lined up like soldiers.
Nikolai raised his eyebrows slightly despite himself. These weren't beat-up street vehicles.
They were clean, some nearly new, a few obviously modified. "You've got stock," he said under his breath.
"We're prepared," Moreno replied. "Pick what you need tomorrow."
Nikolai closed the folder, his thumb pressing lightly against the edge as he thought. This was a real job. If he pulled it off, it would put him in a completely different league overnight. If he failed… well, Brian had orders.
Moreno didn't bother to add the threat. It was already there, heavy and clear.
Either way, it didn't bother Nikolai. Failure wasn't something he believed in, not when he could plan and adapt.
He'd spend the night breaking the job down piece by piece, then see how the plan held up once he met the others tomorrow.
Moreno waved a hand and one of his men stepped forward. "Take him home."
Nikolai tucked the folder under his arm and followed the man without a word.
They walked past the quiet rows of black vehicles until they reached a waiting SUV. The back door opened, and Nikolai climbed in.
As the car rolled out of the warehouse, he leaned against the seat, eyes on the city lights flickering through the tinted glass. His head still ached, but the sharpness in his chest wasn't fear, it was something else. Excitement. Challenge.
He was back in the field.
As the SUV rolled through the city streets, Nikolai leaned his head back and let the hum of the engine fill the quiet. His mind, though, didn't rest.
That picture.
The man with the glasses and the thin mustache, the one he'd borrowed from when he was desperate.
The same man Moreno's people were hunting. So the debt collector wasn't just some backroom shark; he was tied to whoever was hijacking Moreno's shipments.
Pieces began to click together. Back when he broke down those three thugs, one of them had slipped up, talked about their boss moving into "serious business," focusing on the docks and paying off officials. At the time, it was just loose information. Now it lined up perfectly.
Interesting. Dangerous. Useful.
He tapped the folder lightly against his leg, thinking. This wasn't just a test job, it was a door.
If he handled this right, he'd not only win Moreno's trust but also learn who exactly was cutting into the supply lines. And maybe, just maybe, deal with that old debt while he was at it.
His only real question now was the shipment itself. What the hell was so important that it was worth stealing, worth guns and night raids, worth Moreno sending men like these?
That answer would decide how careful he needed to be. And how far he'd have to go.
If what he uncovered was good enough, maybe this job would be more than just survival.
Nikolai owed Moreno nothing. Right now, he was playing along because it kept him alive and gave him a foothold.
But if what was happening around these docks offered something bigger, something he could use, and if he could put together a plan that didn't backfire… then he'd take it.
He'd learned long ago that loyalty without gain was just another kind of chain.
Plans could fail, situations could turn in an instant, but he'd always adapted before. That was what had kept him alive, what had made him a name once.
He stared out the dark window as the SUV moved through quiet streets. Right now, Moreno was just a way to climb.
Nothing more.
If the game shifted and another path looked better, he'd shift with it.
Survival first. Opportunity second. Always.