Novel & Cerita Warehouse 13: Season 6

7PM, WAREHOUSE Aside from being a mafia and hating his siblings for a reason nobody knows, Madden Hart owns the biggest warehouse in the underworld business where he imports and exports illegal goods and weapons in and out of the country. But who would ask or question him? Nobody. Clover drove roughly into the warehouse and was immediately surrounded by Moon and Rollins. "Hey dude, you're finally here," Rollins shook hands with him. "Yeah, what about others?" Clover asked and looked at Moon who greeted him with a smile.

Keeping my face unreadable, I walked to the bar and sat down. I could do this all night. “Break his fingers.” I ordered staring at Stefano. Suddenly, the sound of something snapping filled the entire bar. Lauren flinched the moment she heard the sound but there was nothing she could do about it. Domenico screamed in pain but I didn't give a f**k. Domenico coughed, blood speckling his lips. “The shipment… It’s at the docks… Warehouse 13…” I smiled, finally satisfied as I heard the location.

He said it the way a widow might say a date. “Show me,” Ethan said. Warehouse 6 sat two streets off the river, a long brick building with its windows bricked and bricked again over different decades. It had been empty since the siege except for pigeons and echoes. The manifest implied otherwise. The door was chained. The lock was new.

Yanked her out. Men appeared from the shadows. Six of them. All armed. Guns pointed at us. "Move." One of them gestured with his rifle toward the warehouse. I moved. Kept Rihana in front of me. My wolf was howling. Clawing. Demanding I shift. Demanding blood. Not yet. Find her first. The warehouse doors opened. Rusty metal scraping. The inside was massive. Empty except for old crates. Broken equipment. And in the center—

Nora P.O.V The warehouse loomed ahead, its steel exterior bathed in the pale glow of the distant streetlights. A thick, eerie silence blanketed the area, broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind against the stacked shipping containers. The air was tense, charged with the weight of the mission ahead. Inside, Layson and his son were being held captive by the Cutlers, and there was no telling what condition they were in. Our van was parked a few yards away, tucked into the shadows, where Cyber and his team monitored the interior movements. The dim glow of their screens illuminated their faces, their fingers flying over keyboards as they fed us real-time updates through our Bluetooth dev

Shoving my door open, I see Roberto watching me put the gun in the back of my pants, letting my jacket fall back down to cover it. "Let's not use that, okay?" he says under his breath as we walk to the large door. I don't say anything and hope I won't need to, but there's no way I was going to leave it back in the car. Not when I'm about to face an unpredictable pack of wolves. Pulling in a deep breath, we walk into the large warehouse and there are only ten men and Sean Flannigan present. Looks like we lost a couple more. Good.

I walked over, grabbed my phone from the table, and left without a word. The rest of the week passed smoothly. Surprisingly Iris stayed professional, no unnecessary attitude, no subtle insults, just work. Together, we handled shipment schedules, supplier confirmations, inventory planning and warehouse preparation. If anything, her sudden professionalism felt unnatural. But I ignored it. Maybe I was imagining problems where there weren’t any. Even Natalia occasionally showed up around the office just watching. The shipment arrived Sunday night. Truck after truck pulled into Warehouse L3, carrying imported materials worth millions.

Connor The warehouse smelled of damp wood, engine oil, and lies. I stood in the shadows, watching workers load wooden crates onto two delivery trucks. To anyone else, it looked like a routine shipment between neighboring packs. To me, it looked entirely staged. Henry crouched beside me behind a stack of empty pallets. "Third truck this week," he whispered. I kept my eyes locked on the loading dock. "And every shipment leaves after midnight." Henry nodded. "Officially, they're transporting sporting equipment."

I hesitated, my breath catching in my throat. I pulled out my phone one more time to send Talon another message. My face fell as I read the screen. Twelve missed calls from Talon and five from Jake. I was in deep shit, but there was no turning back now. *Warehouse 14* I sent the message and slipped through the doorway, my boots crunching quietly across the gravel floor. Stacks of crates and pallets loomed around me, casting shadows across the dimly lit room. In the center stood an enormous shipping container, the door chained and padlocked. That had to be it.

"You made sure of that." We stepped out of the vehicle. The silence of the docks was absolute, broken only by the rhythmic, metallic slap-slap of the tide against the pier. Luciano moved with a terrifying, silent grace, a predator in his natural habitat. Vane peeled off into the darkness of the neighboring warehouse, a ghost with a suppressed rifle. We entered the main warehouse through a side door that had been forced. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of old wood and metallic dust. Rows of crates stretched into the gloom, labeled with the Vance logo—a stylized compass that now looked like a crosshair.