Balcony Reconnaissance

The gap under the glass balcony door was just wide enough for a low crawl. I squeezed through onto the terracotta tiles, keeping my weapon tucked tight against my flank. Morning air in this city carries the sharp scent of roasted espresso and damp limestone. At the wrought-iron railing, I found a small crack in the stucco near the corner post—an ideal observation bunker. Peering through the decorative iron spirals, I surveyed the narrow alleyway below: a grocer rolling up his metal shutter, two mopeds leaning against a stone wall, and no sign of unauthorized surveillance. The perimeter is wide open, and my vantage point is solid.