The early morning light filtered through the grimy windows of the apartment building as Ryan stepped inside, toolbox in hand, wearing a plain navy jumpsuit that made him look like any other technician on the job. His face was calm, the hint of a smile playing on his lips, but beneath that was a hum of nervous energy. This was the first real mission they were doing together, and he had to play it cool.
Their plan was dangerous in more ways than one. Using Ryan's real job as a camera operator. He was one of the operators for NY1, while his dad was an operator for The Montel William's Show. If Ryan was caught, it'd be more than just his life in jeopardy.
Cal watched from across the street, tucked behind the corner of a deli, his hood pulled low. Even though Ryan had this covered, the tension in Cal's body was impossible to shake. He trusted Ryan—of course, he did—but the thought of something going wrong made his muscles coil like springs.
Ryan glanced back at Cal's shadowy figure before pulling the door to the building open, stepping inside with the easy confidence of someone who belonged there. His grin widened as he approached the front desk, where a tired-looking security guard barely lifted his head from a magazine.
"Morning," Ryan said, flashing his best technician smile. "Got a work order here for the building. Says the cameras on the first floor got wrecked. Seems like there was some, uh, incident?"
The guard looked up, squinting at Ryan with mild interest. "Oh yeah, that. Some crazy fight went down a couple nights ago. Took out a bunch of the equipment. You're here to fix it?"
"Yup," Ryan replied, lifting the clipboard in his hand. "Standard work order. Just need to get the cameras back online for you."
The guard grunted, motioning toward the hallway. "First door on the right. It's a mess in there."
Ryan nodded, his nerves starting to calm now that he was in. "I'll take care of it."
He walked down the hallway, his footsteps echoing in the quiet corridor. As he reached the door, his heart picked up a little, but he pushed it down, focusing on the task ahead. He was good at this—blending in, getting access, figuring out how things worked behind the scenes. It wasn't his first time playing the part of the invisible technician.
Ryan opened the door, stepping into the room where Cal had unleashed hell just days ago. The place was still a wreck. Chairs overturned, tables shattered, and a thick layer of dust coated everything. But his eyes were on the small black cameras in the corners of the room, some hanging by wires after the fight.
He set down his toolbox, pulling out a small portable device to scan the camera feeds. This was where the real work began.
Outside, Cal shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes never leaving the entrance to the building. It had been a few minutes, but it felt like hours. He knew this was the right way to do things—subtle, careful—but his instincts were screaming at him to get in there, to make sure Ryan was okay. They were partners now, but that didn't stop him from feeling protective. Especially after last time.
Calm down, Cal told himself, clenching his fists. Ryan's got this. Just wait.
Back inside, Ryan moved swiftly, opening a side panel to access the building's camera system. He plugged in a small USB drive, allowing him to download the data stored from the last few days. While he worked, he couldn't help but smile to himself—this was exactly the kind of thing that made him feel alive. The adrenaline of being in enemy territory, knowing that one wrong move could blow the whole thing, but having the skill to pull it off.
You'd think for a place crawling with criminals they'd secure the cameras. Dumbasses left the timestamp overlay running. He smirked. He could feel his body flush and sweat start to rise, skin prickling with heat as he gathered the data.
As the data transferred, he heard voices from the hallway.
His heart skipped a beat. Quickly, Ryan snapped the panel shut, stuffing his device into his toolbox before pulling out a small flashlight. He flicked it on and pointed it at the camera, pretending to be deep in the task of fixing the equipment as the door creaked open behind him.
Two men entered, both looking rough around the edges. One of them gave Ryan a sideways glance, eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You the guy fixing the cameras?"
Ryan didn't miss a beat. He turned, still smiling. "Yep. Just here to get these working again. Seems like you guys had a wild night."
The man grunted but didn't respond, his eyes scanning the room. For a moment, Ryan thought they were going to question him further, but the second man just shrugged, stepping out of the room. The first guy lingered a second longer, watching Ryan with narrowed eyes.
"You done soon?"
Ryan nodded, turning back to the camera. "Just a few more minutes."
The man grunted again before leaving, and Ryan let out the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His hands moved faster now, finishing up the last of the data transfer. The small drive clicked as the files completed, and he quickly packed up his gear.
Time to get out.
He made his way back down the hallway, toolbox in hand, waving casually at the security guard as he passed. "All set. Cameras should be back online soon."
The guard barely acknowledged him, flipping the page of his magazine. Ryan stepped outside, back into the cold morning air, feeling the tension in his shoulders finally release.
Cal was waiting across the street, his eyes locked on Ryan as he approached.
"You get it?" Cal asked, his voice low.
Ryan grinned, holding up the small drive like it was a trophy. "Got it all. Now let's see what these guys have been up to."
---
Back at Cal's apartment, the footage continued to play on the laptop, showing a towering man enter the room with a duffel bag of money. He moved through the scene like he owned the place. Calm, composed, and in control. The dealers, hunched and nervous, barely looked him in the eye.
Ryan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he watched the exchange. "This guy's no joke. He's got them all scared stiff."
Cal nodded, his eyes still fixed on the screen. He could see it too—the way the dealers responded to the man wasn't just fear. It was respect, like they knew crossing him wasn't an option.
"They're terrified," Cal said. "He's important."
Ryan fast-forwarded the footage, and the same man appeared again over the next few days, always conducting similar transactions. Every time, the room fell into the same uneasy quiet the moment he entered.
"You think he's the one running the show?" Ryan asked, glancing at Cal.
"No," Cal said, shaking his head. "He's too hands-on for that. He's enforcing, making sure things stay smooth. But he's high enough up the chain to be worth tracking."
Ryan rewound the footage and slowed it down as they reached the end of the latest recording. The man was walking out of the building, but this time, a camera on the outside caught something new. He approached a parked van—one of those transportation vehicles usually reserved for the elderly or disabled.
"Wait, what's that?" Ryan leaned closer.
The man stepped inside the van, its side door sliding shut with a dull thud. The logo on the side of the vehicle was partially visible—faded, but readable. Ryan squinted at the screen, tapping a finger against his chin.
"That's a medical transport van," he said after a moment. "It's got to be a cover. They wouldn't use something that obvious if they weren't trying to stay under the radar."
Cal glanced at him, catching the sharpness in Ryan's observation. "Yeah. That makes sense."
Ryan's fingers danced across the keyboard, pausing the footage on a clear shot of the van's logo. "Got it. Let's see what we can find."
He quickly searched the company's name, scrolling through listings of properties associated with the business. Most were typical—a few small office spaces, warehouses for medical supplies—but one caught their attention.
"There," Ryan said, pointing to the screen. "That warehouse. It doesn't make sense for them to own something like that. It's out on the outskirts, and look at it—it's run down."
Cal leaned in, a determined glint in his eyes. "That's got to be it. We follow the van. That's where we'll find him."
Ryan nodded, the excitement bubbling up again. "We've got our next move."
But even as they mapped out their plan, Cal's mind was already racing ahead. They'd been hitting stashes, getting closer to something bigger, and now, they had a direct lead. It was almost too easy. He didn't let the doubt surface—he didn't need to. After all, no one had stopped him yet.