Lucas adjusted the strap on his bulletproof vest, realizing the weight of the mission. His eyes moved to the compound ahead—a low lighted, one-story building with a cracked, chain-link fence surrounding it. Guards patrolled the front, armed but lazy, their cigarettes glowing faintly in the dark.
"You'd think these assholes would at least try to look professional," muttered one of Lucas's men, grinning as he checked his gun.
Lucas didn't smile. "Keep quiet. We're not here to admire their lack of discipline."
His men fell silent, their joking replaced by the tension that only came when death was a real possibility.
Lucas crouched, gesturing for the team to follow. Like shadows, they slipped past the fence, avoiding the guards. The first two went down easily—one with a blade to the throat, the other silenced by a quick shot. Lucas didn't even glance at their bodies as he stepped over them.
