1 week later

"Okay, Alvin, you and Eddie will cover Jimmy and I at ground level. Dexter, you and Thomas scope out the mezzanine floor." Hank pointed at the paper blue prints of the warehouse, holding them against the bonnet of the unmarked sedan as they fluttered in the wind.
"Everybody clear?" He asked in which we all spoke our replies.
"Okay, move into positions." Crouching slightly, i followed behind Jimmy as we walked down the block, the warehouse a looming castle. I set my sites on the warehouse door. 

Graffiti scarred the walls of the factory, rust bubbling through the paintwork to show it's red aggressive scars. I took my position beside Thomas, opposite to Hank and Jimmy.

"Jesus," Thomas whispered to me, "Look at this door. Half the neighbourhood will hear this thing open." I held my arm up, indicating for him to stop talking. My heart was already beating fast enough without him speaking too loudly.

I focused my attention on my gun, trying not to notice my hands shaking a little. Loaded- check. Bullets- check. Nerves of steel- yeah, fucking right. I willed the steel into my eyes and nodded at Hank. He leant forward, tapping Jimmy's shoulder and they both grabbed a hold of the door's edge. I held my breath.

They both pulled the door, it shrieking loudly as rust caught in the tracks. The hairs on my neck stood up, goosebumps going down my arms.  I thought of all the people who could hear it.
 I clenched my jaw, fighting the urge to hide; to stop my legs running the other way.
I waited for gunfire... 

Nothing. my senses screamed at the silence. I peeked around the corner, looking into the darkness.

Nothing moved. I forced a swallow, heart just about flat lining. Was this a trap? My gun aimed into the distance waiting for someone to open fire; no one did. 

"Alvin, anything?" Jimmy's voice was the only noise in the eerie silence of the factory. Static replied. Where is he?
"It's empty. They've bolted." I breathed a sigh of relief.

A torch shone in front of us. It flickered on and off in Morse code.
"It's Alvin," Hank said as he walked inside. I followed, not letting my guard down, searching for tell tale signs of booby-traps. 

Most of the factory's windows had been boarded up or had newspapers halfheartedly stuck to them. It was just a shell now; corrugated iron and steel beams. What was left of the old machinery was vandalised, dumped in the corner. Polished concrete floors now laid dirty and chipped.

"I see the stairs to the mezzanine floor," I noted to the others. A large metal staircase spiraled up and out of site.

"Dex, Thomas, go," Hank commanded.

"Hank! You should see this." Eddie yelled from out the back. The team went out the back of the factory. In me watching them, I lost Thomas. 

I followed orders, quickly scaling the stairs, hoping Thomas was waiting up top.
The strenuous workout had my legs burning; The last of the stairs coming as a blessing. 

Ugh! I used to be able to do this so easily. I am way out of practice.

The windows on the mezzanine floor were uncovered, natural light beaming in through empty frames. To my left was an open hallway with three wooden doors, and to my right were more stairs that this time lead to the access for another room. The perimeter was protected by an aluminium guard rail.

"Dex, check that way and I'll go this way," Thomas said quietly, catching my attention. He pointed to the path that lead to the three doors. I nodded to him, and moved towards the first door.

I crept to the doorway with my back against the wall. As long as there was nobody behind the door, I would be fine. If there was, I wasn't delving too far on that thought. No point psyching myself out first month back on the job.
I reached for the door handle, my hand shaking like crazy. I stopped momentarily. 

What if there is someone behind this door? 

I steeled myself once more, mentally whacking the idea out of my head.

I quickly turned the handle and pushed the door open.
The door squeaked on its hinges. 
I shot back to the safety of the wall, waiting for gunshots. 

Nothing happened... again.

I glanced quickly inside. It was empty. I let the breath I was holding escape through my clenched teeth. The room was completely bare, well not if you counted spiders anyway. One door down, another two to go. If Tom had seen what I was doing, and lucky he hadn't, I would never had heard the end of it.

After another, less shaky breath, I moved to the next door, doing the same routine.
There was nothing there either. There were even less spiders this time, and this room had a barred window. 

Why would you bar a mezzanine floor window? 

I walked into the room so that I could see out of it. There wasn't much. The view had been blocked by the ugly brick building next door.

I peered down. 

Hey! A railing. 

It went to the right of me and out of view. 

I think I just figured out what the third door is.

I strode out of the room and to the third and final door. 

If I am correct, this should be the fire escape. 

I opened the door.

The late autumn breeze hit me. 

Holy shit, that's cold! 

It still bit even though winter hadn't quite arrived. I instinctively pulled my jacket a bit closer.

Surely enough, a platform leading to a fire escape stood before me. I stood onto it, a loud groan echoing. 

That is not a good sound.

 I looked over the edge cautiously trying not to shift my weight too drastically. I didn't want to fall from this far. The mezzanine floor had to be at least 19 feet up.

Well this is a dead end. 

I stepped back gently, making sure not to compromise the rusted structure. The three doors were useless to the investigation.

Let's see how Tom is doing.

I went up the flight of stairs to the room Tom went into.
Noises came from ahead of me. 

Tom must have found something in here. 

This room wasn't empty after all.

"Hey, Tom..."
My words stuck in my throat, alarms blaring in my brain. There was Thomas bent over, putting something in his pocket. In front of him was another small stash of drugs and money, almost identical to the last lot. 

What is he doing? 

Something horrid dawned on me. It brought the past flooding back. That's how it got in the pursuit. Thomas was taking his helping. He was tampering with the evidence and not for the first time either.

"What are you doing?" My voice was clear. Anger riled my blood, boiling it as I took in the scene before me. He was the reason my reputation was tarnished. He let me almost go down for his crime. He betrayed me.
Thomas shot up, pretending as if he hadn't been caught red-handed, 

"It's nothing. I was checking something."

I clenched my jaw, 

"What are you doing?" I repeated, standing firm. 

"Dex, I told you. It is nothing." He said, elongating the syllables for effect.

For the first time in a long time, I didn'tbelieve him.

 "You were smuggling out the stash weren't you?" 

The look Thomas gave said it all.