[Jake's POV]
The armored car was a heavily modified Mercedes-Benz Sprinter.
Ballistic steel plating. Bulletproof glass rated to stop .50 cal. Run-flat tires. Reinforced undercarriage to take a grenade. It looked like a delivery van from the outside. Inside it was a tank.
It was Tuesday, 2:45 AM.
I sat in the passenger seat wearing full tactical gear. Black plate carrier. Suppressed USP in a thigh holster. Comms bead in my ear.
Ethan was behind the wheel. His hands were loose on the steering wheel, but his eyes were scanning every shadow. In the back, behind a reinforced steel partition, sat ten million dollars in clean, laundered cash. Bundled. Sealed. Ready for the municipal bank.
"Overwatch, status on the route," I said.
"The primary route to the municipal bank is clear," Nia reported. Her voice was sharp. "Traffic is minimal. I have access to the municipal cameras along the Avenida de Amizade. No suspicious vehicles, no roadblocks."
