Morning came without bringing any peace.
Raka had not slept.
All night, he sat by the window, watching the street in front of his rented room. The black car had been gone for a long time, but the feeling of being watched still clung to his mind.
On the table sat a cup of untouched coffee.
Beside it was an old photo of him from when he was still a soldier.
Raka stared at the photo.
Then he picked up his phone.
6:12 a.m.
There were no new messages.
He opened Bayu's contact.
His finger paused over the call button.
Raka finally called.
Bayu answered on the second ring.
“Made up your mind?”
Raka was silent for a moment.
“I’m in.”
There was no sound from the other end.
Then Bayu asked,
“You sure?”
“No.”
Bayu gave a quiet laugh.
“At least you’re honest.”
“I’m in because I want to know who’s really controlling all of this.”
Bayu’s voice turned serious.
“Once you’re in, don’t expect everything to go back to the way it was.”
Raka looked at the photo of himself.
“I don’t have a life like that anymore.”
The call ended.
Raka let out a breath.
The decision had been made.
And for the first time in years, he felt like he was a soldier again, receiving an assignment.
The difference was, this time there was no uniform.
No country to protect.
No commander giving orders.
Only money, fear, and people who couldn’t be trusted.
That afternoon, Raka met Bayu at a small café.
Bayu came alone.
He sat across from Raka and placed a file folder on the table.
“This is the information you need to know.”
Raka opened the folder.
Inside were several photos and notes about Adrian Wibawa.
Raka studied the man’s photo.
Adrian looked like an ordinary businessman.
An expensive suit.
A friendly smile.
A face that often appeared in the news.
But the next few pages made Raka stop.
There were photos of Adrian meeting with several people.
Some of the faces had been deliberately blurred.
“He’s not just a businessman,” Raka said.
Bayu nodded.
“Told you.”
“What is he keeping?”
“Documents.”
“Documents about what?”
Bayu shook his head.
“We don’t know everything.”
Raka closed the folder.
“You brought me into a job you don’t even understand.”
“What we do know is enough.”
“That’s the kind of line that gets people killed.”
Bayu fell silent.
Raka continued.
“Who’s Bram?”
For the first time, Bayu’s expression changed.
“Don’t ask too many questions about him.”
“Why?”
“Because people who know too much usually don’t get the chance to tell anyone about it.”
Raka stared at Bayu for a long moment.
“So he’s dangerous.”
Bayu didn’t answer.
That was answer enough.
That night, Raka returned to the old warehouse.
This time, the entire crew had gathered.
Jaka stood near a long table.
Laras was checking several documents.
Deni sat there, playing on his phone.
Bayu looked at Raka when he came in.
“Starting tonight, you’re one of us.”
Raka walked closer.
“I have one condition.”
Jaka laughed.
“Just joined and he already has conditions.”
Raka ignored him.
“I don’t hurt people who aren’t involved.”
The room fell silent.
Bayu nodded.
“Agreed.”
“And I don’t want any killing.”
Jaka looked at Bayu.
“You serious?”
Raka looked at him.
“I’m serious.”
Jaka sighed.
“Then don’t get in the way of anyone forced to do it.”
Raka didn’t answer.
Laras watched Raka for several seconds.
Then she said,
“You still have a heart.”
Raka looked at her.
“I just don’t want to lose what little heart I have left.”
No one laughed.
Bayu then opened a small box and took out a new phone.
“Use this.”
Raka took it.
“Why?”
“For communication.”
Raka examined it briefly, then slipped it into his pocket.
Bayu pointed to a chair.
“Sit.”
Raka sat down.
Bayu stood in front of them.
“We start tomorrow.”
Jaka smiled.
“Finally.”
Laras remained silent.
Deni stopped his game on his phone.
Raka studied them one by one.
They weren’t soldiers.
They weren’t friends.
They were just people brought together by necessity.
And Raka knew that in a world like this, trust was incredibly expensive.
The night grew later.
After everyone left, Raka was still inside the old warehouse.
He stood alone near the door.
Bayu appeared behind him.
“There’s one thing I haven’t told you.”
Raka turned.
“What?”
Bayu looked at him seriously.
“Bram isn’t the person who gave us this job.”
Raka frowned.
“Then who is?”
Bayu was silent for a long time.
Then he said,
“Someone higher up.”
“Who?”
Bayu didn’t answer.
Instead, he handed Raka a photo.
Raka looked at it.
The face in the photo made him freeze.
An old man with graying hair.
Raka knew him.
Not as a businessman.
Not as a criminal.
But as someone from his past.
Someone who should never have appeared in his life again.
Raka raised his head.
“This is impossible.”
Bayu looked at him.
“Unfortunately, it’s true.”
Raka gripped the photo tighter.
All his old memories suddenly came rushing back.
Gunfire.
Rain.
Muddy ground.
And an operation years ago that had made Raka leave the military world.
Now that person from his past had returned.
And Raka began to realize that this job might never have been about money in the first place.
Maybe someone had deliberately pulled him back in.
Not to become a robber.
But to finish something that had been left unfinished.
Outside the old warehouse, a black car came to a stop.
Its headlights came on briefly.
Then went out.
Someone was waiting.
And Raka didn’t yet know that person already knew about the decision he had just made.