“We’re leaving now. I was holding off for the call. I’m already receiving messages.”
“I trust your judgment. We do need men, Marco. But we need to tread carefully.”
“I understand. I will not waste it.”
32 – Stefano
“Thanks for coming with me.”
Luciano Morelli glances over at me from the passenger seat. “I can go in, if it’s easier.”
I don’t tell him how much I appreciate the offer. “No. It’s just a building.”
The fake agents have left, tatters of tape the only sign of their presence as we drive up to the compound. It desecrates the landscape around it, monstrous gray walls towering up into the night sky.
But I don’t feel the same sense of foreboding I once did as we pull up to the gates. Several other cars pull up behind, ready to load whatever we can carry. “You think it’ll be tonight?”
Luc looks over at me as we get out. “I don’t think he’ll waste any time, just in case.”
I nod toward the doors. “Then we’d better hurry.”
Luc whistles as I lead him down to the storage areas. “Fuck me. This place really is like a military compound.”
“That was the idea.” I pull open the door, and we both stare at the supplies inside.
Hundreds of crates sit in front of us.
Guns. Explosives. Tasers. Anything and everything that we might need. Might already need, depending on how quickly Matteo moves - if he even does.
My throat tightens, the urge to get back to Cat as soon as possible a gnawing in my stomach. “Let’s move.”
33 - Giovanni
“Lorena.” I fight the urge to pinch my nose. “It’s not going to be safe. You have to leave.”
She pushes past me, smacking my ankle on the way past with her stick. “At the speed I walk, they’ll catch up to me at the gates. No, I’m staying right here.”
Her eyes gleam as she turns back to me. “You tell that Corvo girl to make sure he doesn’t get back up. Weasel little cunts like him always do.”
I cross my arms. “I can get someone to drive you out.”
She coughs. “And go where? They’re not going to storm an old woman’s apartment, Fusco. They’ll have bigger fish to fry. And so do you. So get gone and leave me the hell alone, unless you bring coffee with you.”
She uses her cane to slam the door in my face.
Fucking hell.
Cat walks up as I’m about the enter the main hall, her expression tense. “It’s done.”
“So now it’s a waiting game. How did they respond?”
“Hard to tell.” Her eyes scan the busting activity. “I suppose we’ll find out. Marco seemed positive.”
Tables have been shoved to the walls, weapons and supplies set up on every available surface. In the corner, a group of my junior soldiers are stacking dry food and bottled water.
Cat notices them too. “How long can we hold out?”
“Long enough. There’s plenty there.” And not that many of us. But I don’t need to say it.
