Shortly after Andrew and his group left, a black Mercedes slowly pulled up to the alley entrance and stopped.

The driver glanced inside and immediately showed an expression of utter disbelief. "Mr. Byrne, Ezra and the others… They…"

He trembled for a long moment, unable to get the words out.

Marcelo sat in the back seat, his spine straight, saying nothing. After a long silence, he coldly ordered, "Drive!"

The driver was sweating profusely. "But all our men are dead. Who the hell did this