[Jake's POV]
The Inner Harbour of Macau was a completely different world from the glittering, gold-plated excess of the Cotai Strip. Down here, the city didn't pretend to be a playground for the rich. It was a machine, grinding away in the dark, fueled by diesel, sweat, and the relentless churn of illicit commerce.
The air smelled of rotting fish, stagnant seawater, and the heavy, metallic tang of exhaust fumes from the massive cargo ships idling in the Pearl River delta. A thick, rolling fog had moved in off the water, clinging to the rusted chain-link fences and the towering stacks of shipping containers like a damp, gray shroud.
Ethan and I crouched behind a stack of wooden pallets, the rough, splintered wood pressing into my back. We were two blocks away from Chen's primary warehouse, a sprawling, corrugated steel structure that looked like it had been built in the seventies and never maintained.
