Eventually the designated building appeared ahead.
Two stories tall.
Commercial structure.
Maybe an old warehouse before the district collapsed.
Steel bars covered the lower windows while reinforced shutters protected parts of the entrance.
The surrounding sightlines were tighter here too. Fewer elevated firing positions. Multiple exits.
Webb had chosen carefully.
Don pressed himself beside the front door and checked the surrounding street once more before speaking into the comms.
"I'm at the building."
"Good," Webb answered immediately. "Inside. Staircase near the back. Second floor."
Don pulled the door open carefully and stepped inside.
Dust and age hit him first.
The warehouse floor was cluttered with abandoned pallets, broken shelving, and rusted equipment covered beneath stained tarps.
Weak emergency lights cast thin pools of illumination across the darkness every several meters, leaving large sections swallowed in shadow.
