The alley smelled of rain and asphalt. Jack crouched behind a dumpster, the hood of his jacket drawn low. His ski mask covered most of his face, hiding the tension in his jaw.
Night Heaven pulsed with neon lights and muffled music. The bouncer at the front was busy checking IDs. Perfect.
Jack checked the small backpack strapped across his chest. Inside were gloves, a crowbar, and tools Arron had instructed him to bring. He exhaled slowly, adrenaline pumping.
He slipped around the side entrance. The back door had a keypad. He tapped in the code Arron had texted him. It clicked open.
Inside, the corridor smelled of damp concrete and cigarette smoke. Jack moved quietly, each step measured. He reached the control room door. Two locks. Arron's instructions ran in his head.
He picked the first lock. Then the second. The door swung open silently.
Rows of monitors displayed Night Heaven's interior. Jack's eyes scanned. The footage loops, the archive drives mounted nearby.
He slipped the drives out, one at a time, and smashed them with a crowbar. Sparks flew from the metal casing. He kept low, heart hammering, listening for any sounds.
The final drive was from the electronics shop across town. Arron's plan: destroy both.
Jack paused. This was the part Arron had calculated for his escape. If anything went wrong, the footage would leak, and Jack and Arron would both be in danger.
He smashed the last drive. Silence.
Then came the shout.
"Stop that thief!"
The bald, short, muscular club manager barreled out from a side door. His fists clenched, chest heaving. Panic filled his eyes.
Jack bolted toward the exit.
At the door, he collided with someone solid. Ski mask met stern eyes. Detective Isseren stood there, coat collar high, face sharp, gaze locking on Jack immediately.
Jack stumbled back a step, heart pounding.
"You!" Isseren's voice was cold. "What the hell are you doing?"
Behind her, Hegel followed, tall and precise, scanning the alley.
Jack's mind raced. Young and small-framed, he might have passed as a random street kid, but the ski mask made him look deliberate.
Isseren's eyes narrowed. The coincidence of the masked figure at the Night Heaven exit, right after the murder, made her mind snap to one conclusion.
This wasn't random. This was calculated. This figure—this kid—was involved.
"Gat damn it! Kids these days have no respect," she muttered under her breath.
Hegel cursed lowly, voice unreadable.
Jack ducked into the nearest side street, rain splashing around him. Every shadow could be danger. Every echo could be footsteps.
The club manager appeared at the alley entrance, pointing frantically.
"Stop that guy! He's got the drives from Night Heaven!"
That adrenaline spike told Isseren everything she needed. She broke into a run, Hegel close behind.
Jack didn't stop. He had to reach the rendezvous point Arron had texted him. The rain soaked his clothes, weighing him down, but he didn't care.
He slipped into a narrow passage between buildings, chest heaving. Every shadow could be danger. Every echo could be footsteps.
Behind him, Isseren cursed again. "Damn it! These kids!"
Jack's mind raced. The drives were destroyed, the footage gone. Arron's plan was perfect, but now the escape was up to him.
A dumpster loomed ahead. Jack slid behind it, holding his breath. Isseren and Hegel passed by the entrance, scanning.
He exhaled slowly, letting the rain wash over him. The city smelled of wet asphalt, smoke, and trash.
Jack texted Arron: Done. Back safe.
Arron's reply buzzed instantly: Good. Clean your tracks. Wait 30 min before moving.
Jack smirked. He had barely escaped, but the plan worked. Arron's genius in orchestrating it from a distance had saved him.
He crouched there, dripping wet, realizing the stakes were higher than ever. One wrong move, and the detectives would have him—and maybe worse.
For now, though, he was alive. And Arron had the upper hand.
Somewhere in the city, Detective Isseren stopped at the alley. She scanned the area, frustration clear.
"Too clean," she muttered. "The kid knew exactly what he was doing."
Hegel adjusted his coat. "Calculating. Not careless."
Isseren's jaw tightened. "And that ski mask—this isn't a random kid. He's involved in the murder."
Hegel nodded. "Then he's dangerous. And smart."
Jack had vanished into the night. But the chase wasn't over.