Hundred Two

An hour later, I was seated by Atlas in the backseat of his car with Tony driving the car. The address Linda had given us led us to a modest apartment complex with faded paint and overgrown weeds. As we approached the building, Atlas’s hand found mine, offering a comforting squeeze.

"We’ll stay in touch through the comms," Tony said, breaking the silence. "If anything goes wrong, we’ll be there in seconds."

I took a deep breath and squeezed Atlas's hand back, trying to steady my nerves. The apartment complex ahead looked rundown, with peeling paint and cracked sidewalks. It felt like the kind of place where someone could easily disappear into the shadows.

"Got it," I replied, my voice steady despite the tension.

Both Atlas and I got out of the car, and Tony parked it a little further down the street to keep a low profile. The building loomed before us, and Atlas kept close to me as we approached the entrance, his presence a reassuring anchor.

"We’ll head up to the apartment on the th