The Golden Downtown
The gate was barred, the iron teeth interlocking with a sound that felt less like metal and more like a bone snapping in the damp air. Sergeant Elias Thorne stood on the gravel drive, his boots sinking slightly into the mud that had turned to slurry under the relentless October rain, and watched as two men in unmarked tactical gear stepped out from the shadow of the estate’s portico. They did...
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