Blake's hand shook so badly that she could hardly feel the dial under her fingertips let alone distinguish the infinitesimal tremor of the pins. The back of her neck prickled with sweat as every successive digit fell by the wayside. Her heart pounded in her ears, nearly erasing the disjointed click, click, click as she searched for the last piece of the puzzle.

Just as panic began to take over, she found it - a number that hit slightly different than the others. Relief flooded her veins as she spun in the whole combination, but that relief disappeared when she pulled on the handle and nothing happened.

She tried again, harder, to no avail.

"Time's up," Adam sneered as the stopwatch in his hand went off.

"Wait. I can do it." Blake's eyes flashed to Yang, who struggled against thick ropes binding her hands and legs, and Cinder, looming over Yang. "Just give me another chance," she pleaded. "I can do it - I know I can."

She reached for the dial, but he grabbed her hand and twisted it painfully behind her back. Her yelp cut short when she felt him right beside her, his breath on her ear.

"When will you realize that you're nothing without me? I made you."

He shoved her backward, sending her sprawling to the floor, staring up as he stood over her.

"I can do it," she repeated as he removed a handgun from his waistband. Fear mounting, she searched the room for help but found none. Yang had ceased struggling and could only watch, wavering somewhere between disappointment and acceptance. Cinder was triumphant. Mercury, bored yet passingly entertained. Emerald, unwilling to look. Ilia's eyes brimmed with tears.

Adam flipped off the safety, cocked the gun, and aimed it at Blake's head.

"This is where the great Shroud dies for good."

Blake jolted awake, clutching her chest as her eyes darted around the room.

"Hey…it's alright. You just dozed off."

Yang's soothing voice wrapped around her like a warm cocoon, settling her nerves and easing her back into the covers. There was no Adam - not yet, at least. She was in Yang's room, in Yang's bed, with the dull morning light creeping through the window. Yang lay beside her, watching intently, one hand lightly trailing along Blake's upper arm.

"Bad dream," Blake murmured, rubbing her eyes as if that might erase the fear pressed to her skin. "Did you sleep any?"

"Not a wink." Unperturbed, Yang scooted closer and clasped Blake's hand in hers. "Little hard to sleep when you know what's coming."

Blake bit her lip as the nightmare surged back to the forefront of her mind.

"You can always back out. If you go to work without me -"

"Hell no." Yang also shook her head with the emphatic response. "I'm not letting you out of my sight." When Blake's brow creased further, she scooted close enough to kiss the tip of Blake's nose. "Ruby's not the only one trained for this stuff, you know."

"Right…but she's specifically trained…"

"Yeah, yeah." Yang waved away the remark and then grinned. "I can still kick ass if I want to."

"Sure you can."

Blake smiled when Yang playfully grumbled, feeling the fog of anxiety lift for a fraction of a second. It draped back over them a moment later, evidenced by the expanding silence. Yang's gaze moved to Blake's neck, which she gently rubbed with one thumb as a sigh slipped out.

"Doesn't look any better today…"

"It feels better."

"But I won't feel better until it's gone."

"How do you think I feel about this?" Blake set her palm over Yang's heart, knowing all too well what the scar underneath looked like.

"You said it was sexy!"

"It is. But it's just - it's -" Blake fumbled for words and then sighed when Yang started laughing. "It's a reminder of one of my biggest mistakes…" she muttered toward Yang's collar.

"It's a reminder of where we've been," Yang corrected, holding Blake's hand closer.

Blake liked how that sounded nearly as much as she liked feeling Yang's strong, steady heartbeat under her palm. There was a tenderness to Yang's touch that she had always adored. It made her feel treasured, safe, and secure. Like she mattered. Like someone loved her.

As much as she wanted to savor this moment, the outside world refused to fade away. The White Fang needed to be dealt with, and they needed to be dealt with now. But, for as confident as she felt yesterday, a night with Yang and a reminder of everything she stood to lose had stripped away her certainty.

"What if I'm wrong?" she whispered. "Or what if he knows - what if someone gets hurt? What if -?"

Yang pressed a finger to her lips, silencing the insecurities.

"We'll deal with the 'what if's if they happen," Yang assured her. "Right now, we have a plan, and we stick to the plan until something tells us to change course. That's how it works."

"How are you so calm?" Blake asked, then immediately clamped her mouth shut as if she might lose the meager dinner she'd forced down the night before.

"'Calm?'" Yang smiled and shook her head. "I 'slept' in my uniform and my gun's two feet away - what part of that suggests calm?" When Blake shrugged and mindlessly picked at the bedsheet between them, Yang slid a finger beneath Blake's chin and gently lifted so that their gazes met.

"I'm terrified…" Yang admitted. "Putting you anywhere near harm's way is just -" She stopped, shook her head, and recovered. "I'll do everything I can to be right there beside you. We're getting through this together."

Together.

The word settled over Blake's skin like a shield. So much had changed but for the better. Last year, she tried and failed to do everything on her own. She didn't turn to Yang for help until it was too late. Today, despite fearing the unknown, a small smile tugged at her lips, and her heart swooned when Yang kissed her.

"We should get up though," Yang added, checking the time. "I'll make breakfast?"

"I doubt I can eat…"

"We'll still try."

Yang kissed Blake's cheek before rolling out of bed. She didn't need to change, but she shrugged into a jacket before quickly freshening up and winking at Blake as she left the room. Blake flopped into her back, pulled the covers up to her chin, and stared at the ceiling.

The sounds of Yang making breakfast drifted in from the kitchen, enveloping her in a comfortable haze that took her back in time. Unlike several months ago, guilt and remorse didn't cloud her thoughts. Regret didn't eat away at her heart.

This was theirs. Not the White Fang's. Not Adam's. Not Cinder's. They built it together, Blake destroyed it alone, and now they were rebuilding one small brick at a time. It was still fragile and needed protection - and Yang couldn't be the only one protecting it this time.

So Blake rolled out of bed determined to do the right thing despite the 'what if's playing like a broken record in her mind. What if she was wrong? What if she was so desperate to stay with Yang that she had grasped at straws or worse - played right into Adam's hands? What if he already knew what she would do?

But what if she was right?

She dressed comfortably - something that she could run in if necessary - and scrubbed her face as if that would erase the dark circles under her eyes. A full night's rest would have been nice, but she would operate on adrenaline today. The bruises on her neck had turned a deep purple overnight but didn't ache as badly as the day before. Physically, she was healing. Emotionally, she had never felt more jittery than when she joined Yang in the kitchen.

"Pancakes?" she asked, watching Yang pour a pool of batter into the hot frying pan.

"With all the toppings." Yang motioned to an assortment of fruits, jams - even a container of ice cream - on the island before snaking an arm around Blake's waist and tugging her close for a kiss.

"Are we feeding an army?" Blake stared at the tower of golden-brown pancakes piled on a plate, but Yang shrugged and flipped the one in the pan.

"Leftovers mean we don't have to cook tonight."

Yang nuzzled her nose in Blake's hair before beaming as if that was the best idea in the world. Despite that future being separated from them by a cloud of unknown, Blake could still see it. Just the two of them, exhausted but relieved, sitting at the table eating leftover pancakes. Yang would probably roll them up cold and eat them by hand, too tired to bother with a microwave.

"You'll try at least one, right?" Yang dropped the freshly cooked pancake onto a new plate and offered it to Blake. Blake wasn't hungry, but she recognized the shimmer in Yang's eyes that would morph into an irresistible puppy dog expression if she didn't concede.

"Just one," Blake agreed, taking the plate and rolling her eyes at Yang's hidden grin. As she claimed a barstool at the island, Yang turned off the stove, grabbed a couple of pancakes, and joined her. Yang playfully bumped her knee before dousing pancakes in syrup and offering the bottle to her.

Were it not for the pit in Blake's stomach, it would feel like one of their best mornings as a couple. Just the two of them, some good food, and an entire day to spend together. This would be better than those days because the air between them was finally free of Blake's secrets. Unfortunately, that pit in her stomach existed for a good reason.

"Have you heard from Ruby?" she asked, glancing at Yang while pouring a thin trail of syrup across her breakfast.

"Yup. She said everyone's ready."

Blake swallowed thickly and shoved a bite of food in her mouth to avoid responding.

"She's also pissed at you," Yang added, side-eyeing Blake between bites. "Something about how 'This is a horrible idea' and, if you're wrong, she's going to 'do something really stupid.'"

Blake could hardly swallow the bite in her mouth. "I figured…" she muttered, but she didn't go into details and Yang didn't press. Yang grabbed her hand instead.

"She said everything's set up though. All your little minions ready to play their parts."

"'Minions,'" Blake repeated, faintly scoffing and shaking her head. Yang hummed and kept eating, so Blake forced down as many bites as she could. Half of a pancake hardly counted as a meal, but Yang still kissed Blake's cheek while clearing away the plates. She left them in the sink, returned everything else to the refrigerator, then glanced at the time.

"Day shift just started." She gently chewed on her bottom lip before meeting Blake's gaze. "Time to go?"

Blake could only nod and silently follow Yang into the living room, where Yang grabbed a compact blade from the table and slipped it into her left boot. She then tucked her firearm into her waistband and looked at Blake.

"Got everything?"

After patting her front pocket, where the tiny black tracking device had lived since yesterday, Blake nodded. Yang still scanned her eyes, searching for unspoken words, before leading her out of the apartment by the hand. Blake looked over her shoulder for one last glance at her home, her safe place, before shutting the door.

Reality seeped through her mind as they headed downstairs but, when Yang squeezed her hand, conviction followed. Her only alternative was giving up and fleeing to Atlas, Mantel, or, horrifically, back to Vacuo. 'Safety' meant leaving Yang. Safety meant pressing pause on their newfound connection and hoping that it didn't deteriorate over time and distance.

If she was right, she could see the plan in its entirety. She could see it working.

But the drive was quiet. Yang gripped the steering wheel with both hands but lacked the white knuckles of when Blake first returned to Vale. Blake mostly stared out the window and reminded herself to breathe as the streets flew by. Eventually, Yang pulled into a parking lot and cut the engine. For several moments, they both just looked outside, caught in their own memories or glimpses of the future. Then Yang turned towards Blake.

"You sure about this?"

Blake blew a slow, steady breath through her lips and nodded.

"It wasn't a diamond," she explained. "Yesterday - the spray paint. It wasn't a diamond; it was a sapphire."

She gestured to the bold, modern Sapphire Bank - the very same branch where her life had turned upside down. From outward appearances, no one could tell that the bank had been one of the White Fang's many victims. Customers entered and exited through sliding doors, passing beneath several security cameras. Thick glass windows advertised checking accounts as cheerfully as any company could advertise something that most people considered a necessity. Somewhere, lurking amidst the overwhelming normalcy, Adam's plot waited.

He got what he wanted - Shroud was back. And what she wanted was to make him regret not leaving well enough alone.

"Hey." Yang reached over and squeezed her hand. "Whatever happens, we'll get through it. We work well together." Blake could hardly muster a smile, but a small one graced Yang's lips. "It's kind of cool, actually. I get to be on Team Shroud." When Blake scoffed and rolled her eyes, Yang added, "Do I get a nickname?"

"Sure. How about Blonde Bombshell?"

"Blonde Bombshell…" Just when Blake thought that Yang didn't remember, Yang turned to her and asked, with all of the sincerity in the world, "Does that make you Brunette Beauty?"

The sparkle in Yang's eyes sent Blake's heart to the moon and back, leaving her feeling full, warm, and…happy.

"God, I love you…" she sighed only to backpedal when Yang's eyes widened. "I mean - shit, sorry. That slipped out. It's true, but you don't have to feel the same way - I know there's still a long way to go -"

Yang ended Blake's rambles by leaning across the center console and kissing her, soft lips reminding her of quiet mornings and passionate nights and everything in between. She felt their past but, when Yang pulled away, smooth fingers trailing through her hair, she saw a future.

"Those words kind of jump out, don't they?" Yang asked, her eyes dancing mirthfully. Blake smiled, her heart feeling so big and warm that she didn't even need Yang to say the words back. Maybe Yang wasn't ready for that yet, but she knew that Yang loved her. Why else would Yang be here, risking her life with a plan that she didn't even know all of the details of?

Blake opened her mouth to express her overflowing gratitude only to pause when the police radio, which had served as persistent background chatter up until this point, burst into pandemonium. Yang's brow furrowed as she quickly turned up the volume, her gaze unfocused as she tried to make sense of the sudden commotion. Once she did, her eyes widened.

"Holy shit." She tilted her ear toward the radio and listened for several more seconds. "Big-time robbery -" she explained. "They're calling all units." She paused again. "All units," she reiterated.

"Just like we thought."

"Just like you thought," Yang pointed out before twisting the radio dial to another channel and raising it to her lips. "Ruby, you getting this?"

"Roger that," Ruby replied almost immediately. "We're sticking to the plan."

"Good. Then I'll see you soon."

"Please be careful."

"You, too," Yang replied before setting the radio down and exhaling. "So it begins…" she muttered to herself, her fingers curling into fists.

Blake swallowed the bubble of panic in her chest and took a deep breath. As she slowly released it, she glanced at Yang but something outside drew her gaze. Her mind recognized something remiss, but the split second it took for her to process was a split second too many.

"Yang!" she shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the thunderous crash of an SUV slamming into the front of the car. Her head whipped to the side as the world spun into chaos. Glass shattered, spraying across her as tires squealed on pavement. Then, just as suddenly as the turmoil began, the world screeched to a halt. Her senses were hazy and muddled as she looked around, her brain struggling to make heads or tails of the situation. Yang groaned from the driver's seat and pressed a hand to a cut on her forehead.

"Yang…" Blake reached for her, fingers just brushing Yang's shoulder when the passenger door wrenched open and a pair of hands dragged her from the vehicle.

She struggled on instinct, punching, kicking, and flailing until her back hit the cold, hard pavement. Her assailant, wearing the trademark white and red mask, loomed over her like a warden over a prisoner. The gun barrel pointed at her head convinced her to lie still. Only the sounds of struggle drew her gaze away, to where another pair of attackers wrestled Yang out of the car.

People were screaming and running in fear. Yang fought tooth and nail with her attackers, but one of them ended her struggles by hitting her on the head with the butt of his weapon. They then dragged her to an unmarked van that had pulled up beside them and tossed her in at the same time Blake was wretched to her feet and forced to follow. The door slammed shut and tires squealed as the van took off, swerving through the streets like a maniac on a mission.

"Yang? Are you ok?" Blake knelt beside Yang on the hard metal floor and set a hand on Yang's shoulder. Yang groaned and gingerly touched the back of her head while Blake shot a glance at their captors, one of which held up Yang's firearm and smirked.

"Are you ok?" Blake asked, softer this time.

"Son of a bitch…" Yang muttered, briefly opening her eyes before squeezing them shut. Small cuts covered her face and arms and a deeper cut had torn through her pants near her shin, but the welt growing on the back of her head seemed to be the worst of it. While she curled up on the van's floor, Blake kept a hand on her shoulder and glared at the White Fang members keeping watch. They all wore masks, but she didn't recognize any of them - they must be more of Cinder's recruits.

"Where are we going?"

All three of them just stared at her, so she gave up and focused on Yang as the van barreled through Vale. If Yang was too beaten up to fulfill her part of the plan, then Blake needed to improvise. Before her mind went down that path, however, Yang reached out and squeezed her hand.

Relieved, she held Yang's hand and focused on what came next. The unexpected violence of the car crash had shaken her certainty, but they were in it now - the only path forward was sticking to the plan and hoping…hoping this didn't end in disaster.

As the van slowed, she craned her neck to see through the front windshield. Not much was visible from her position except a large doorway followed by tall ceilings made of steel beams, dirty glass skylights, and metal sheeting - possibly a warehouse.

The three men with her and Yang grew restless when the van finally stopped. One of them threw open the sliding door and jumped out, followed closely by the second man, and the third motioned for Blake to follow. Blake helped Yang up first, wrapping an arm under Yang's to lift her to her feet. The guard watched closely but, once Blake was handicapped by shouldering Yang's weight, hopped out of the van first. Blowing a breath through her lips, she awkwardly helped Yang step out of the vehicle.

The first thing she noticed were the people. During her time with the White Fang, they had been a small team - five before Ilia joined, then quickly eight as Cinder brought in her 'associates.' The White Fang had swelled in her absence, now encompassing the several dozen masked accomplices guarding doors or the loading bay that the van had used to enter. All of them wore the trademark white and red mask. All of them openly brandished weapons.

The scale of the operation stunned her, but she had no time to dwell on it before moving on to more important matters, such as scanning the rest of the building. Most of the warehouse was empty save for stacks of empty crates and wooden pallets. Tire tracks pressed into the dusty floor suggested plenty of comings and goings.

The star of the room, sitting atop a series of thick straps that were trapped beneath its great weight, was a Prestige safe worthy of being in a showroom. Despite what was probably an eventful trip from its true home, its dark gray surface remained scratch-free and its silver dial gleamed as if polished yesterday. Loitering near the safe, engaged in conversation as if this was the most normal day in the world, were the two people who she had once hoped never to see again.

Adam and Cinder had forgone masks, probably because they had no identity to hide anymore. Cinder wore a dark red dress and heels, still impractically dressed for any form of heist. Her dark, wavy hair fell across one of her eyes, yet she never moved it out of the way. Her diminutive stature seemed even smaller compared to Adam, who towered over her in his black and red ensemble.

"Move."

One of the guards shoved Blake forward, nearly making her fall and lose her hold of Yang. Regaining her balance, she squared her jaw and approached the man who had played a starring role in destroying her dreams and, with them, her chance at a normal life.

As soon as he saw her, a smug smile swept onto his lips. Cinder soon mirrored the expression, pleased beyond belief in Blake's fall from 'grace.' Yuma loitered beside them, one hand resting on the assault rifle strapped around his shoulders, while Mercury leaned against the safe, bored and relaxed as could be.

Blake's feet dragged as the distance between her and her former colleagues dwindled. Yang might be the one leaning on Blake's side for support, but she was drawing strength from Yang's presence. Imagining facing Adam was one thing. Standing in front of him, surrounded by his armed henchmen - one of whom had shot Yang in the past - was another.

"You made it," Adam greeted her, an all too familiar sneer settling on his lips. "Search them," he ordered Cinder and Yuma, who smirked and strode forward. As suspected, they checked Yang first, roughly patting her down for weapons. Neither of them found the knife in Yang's boot the first time but, before Blake could sigh in relief, Cinder narrowed her eyes and searched again. She clicked her tongue upon discovering the concealed weapon.

"Gotcha." She tapped the blade on Yang's nose before pocketing it and moving to Blake. Her amber eyes swept over the bruises covering Blake's neck as a pleased smile tugged at her lips. "Someone likes it rough," she purred in that obnoxiously husky voice, then chuckled when Blake scowled.

As much as Blake recoiled from Cinder's proximity, she forced herself to remain still as they searched her. A shock of green hair caught her eye while Cinder patted her sides, but Emerald refused to meet her gaze. The pickpocket currently sat on one of the wooden pallets, staring at the doorway as if the rest of the room was empty.

Once Cinder stepped away, adding a light shove for no reason, Blake glared at her before glancing at Yuma, who remained glued to Yang's side. Yang scowled at the man, who responded with a toothy grin. Considering Yang remained unbound, his posture invited an attack, but Yang held back - for now, at least.

Tension balanced on a razor wire, teetering towards a brawl that would end badly for the two of them. Knowing as much, Blake focused on Adam, whose steel gaze had yet to leave her.

"I was starting to worry that you didn't get my message," he commented as if they were old friends catching up over drinks. "But of course you did - and of course you showed up. You just can't stay away from me."

A low growl slipped through Yang's lips when Adam's smirk slipped her way.

"What do you want, Adam?" Blake asked, bringing his attention back to her.

"What does it look like?"

Adam gestured to the safe behind him, but Blake glanced at it, chewed over her response, and eventually said, "I'm retired."

"I feared as much…that's why she's here."

Adam confirmed Blake's suspicions by striding over to Yang, smirking as she glowered at him. Despite his significant height advantage, and despite Yang already sporting several injuries, she looked ready to launch herself at him at the drop of a hat. His smirk encouraged her to, and the rest of the White Fang seemed to lean forward in anticipation of the detective losing her composure.

Yang did nothing but clutch her fists and glare, so he leaned closer.

"You know, you should be thanking me. I'm the one who made Blake date you."

Yang blinked, her glare disappearing, and his smirk grew.

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Feigning concern, he glanced at Blake before turning back to Yang. "She thought it was a waste of time, but I pushed her to do it. Told her to be convincing. Tell me, Detective, were you convinced that she loved you?"

"Shut up, Adam," Blake shot at him. He briefly paused, but then a menacing expression came over his face. He leaned closer to Yang and lowered his voice, keeping it just loud enough for Blake to hear.

"How does it feel to know that everything she told you was a lie? That the only thing she liked about you was your badge?"

He smiled, reveling in that 'confession' while Yang silently fumed at him. Then she reared her head back and slammed her forehead into Adam's nose. He howled and stumbled backward, clutching his face while Yang spit out, "That's how I feel about it, asshole." Yuma grabbed her arm and jerked her backward while Cinder checked on Adam, but Adam pushed Cinder away and whirled back on Yang in rage.

"Bitch," he hissed, slapping Yang hard across the face. Blake lunged forward, ready to wrap her hands around his neck, but Cinder stepped between them and shoved Blake back. Blake scowled at the woman before checking on Yang, who didn't even touch her reddened cheek before shaking it off. She then gave Blake a look that said without words that she was fine. Although, from the anger simmering in her eyes, it was a good thing they took away her weapon.

"Enough talk," Adam snapped, his nose turning a dark, painful red. "Open the safe or I'll put a bullet in her head."

As if Blake didn't believe him, he pulled a handgun from his waistband and aimed it at Yang's head. Blake's adrenaline surged at the escalation, but Yang glared at him as if daring him to pull the trigger.

"It's not that easy, and you know it," Blake argued.

"Then I suggest you get started."

When Adam motioned with the gun, someone tossed a heavy bag onto the floor beside her. Blake immediately recognized her old tools, still in the same bag. Her mind recoiled from them, resisting the stark return to her past, but Adam gestured to them and then to the safe.

So she took a deep breath and glanced at Yang, who almost imperceptibly nodded, before carrying the bag to the safe. The others trailed behind her, with Yuma shoving Yang forward to keep pace. The entire moment felt like an out-of-body experience, from the familiar weight of her tools to Yang's presence to the safe sitting in the middle of a room rather than a vault door buried in a building's walls.

A silver star was emblazoned on the bottom right corner just like Emerald noticed on the test safe. Above that, however, was a name that made Blake's heart race faster: Jacques Schnee. He had, in an incredible display of hubris or overconfidence, engraved his name on his own safe.

She was right.

Of course, Adam and Cinder didn't know that she had guessed their target, so she pointed at the name and said, "Are you kidding me?"

Cinder preened at the observation and Adam pressed his lips in a smugly concealed smile, but Blake shook her head.

"You're insane. Do you have any idea how bad this will be when he -" She jabbed a finger at the name. "Finds out what you did?"

"We have it handled."

She scoffed at Adam's overconfident response and glanced at Yang, who couldn't see the name from where she stood but whose brow had furrowed trying to figure it out. While she tried to piece together that information, Blake dropped her bag on the floor then rubbed her hands together and looked over every square inch of the door. Once done, she slowly walked around the entire metal box searching for anything out of the ordinary, simultaneously stalling for time.

"What're you doing?" Adam snapped once she made it to the last wall.

"Looking for traps or failsafes." She shot him an annoyed look. "You know someone like this probably puts in secondary security."

He probably didn't know that, but he pressed his lips together, annoyed by the slow pace but unwilling to look misinformed in front of his crew. Blake's lips twitched with a smile that she quickly turned into a concentrated frown as she examined one specific corner. There was nothing wrong with it, but she squeezed every second that she could out of her inspection and tried not to glance toward the loading bay doors.

"You already disabled the biometrics?" she asked, pointing at the darkened keypad.

"Yes."

"And stabilized the anti-tipping protection, I hope."

Cinder scoffed but, when Blake stole a page out of Yang's book and waited for an answer, scowled and said, "Of course." Only then did Blake nod and kneel down to slowly unzip her bag. Everything was still there, exactly how she remembered it. Even the vaguely metallic smell brought back a surge of memories.

She couldn't start yet, but she had run out of delays. Even worse, Adam's deepening scowl broadcast his decreasing patience, and she was already well acquainted with Yuma's itchy trigger finger. Just as her hand landed on the stethoscope, however, fortune broke her way.

A disturbance drew everyone's attention to the loading bay, where a large, black SUV with tinted windows had just pulled up. The two guards at the door stopped the vehicle but, after a brief conversation with the driver, motioned into the warehouse. Two identical SUVs followed the first, creating an intimidating trail of three.

"The buyer?" Adam asked as the caravan approached. Cinder glanced at the time and frowned.

"They're not supposed to be here for another two hours."

"Then who the hell is this?"

The two shared a serious look before Adam motioned the rest of the White Fang into action. People suddenly rushed into positions, hiding behind whatever cover they could find, as guns were drawn and aimed at the unannounced visitors. The vehicles finally stopped and, undeterred by the weapons pointed their way, a large man in a black suit hopped out of one of the passenger seats and opened the back door.

The entire building seemed to wait on bated breath for the occupant to appear. Their first glimpse was a silver, jewel-encrusted, designer stiletto.