"How many?" Nico stops pacing. Looks at me.
"Two. Both American. I could tell by their voices."
"Did they say anything?"
"No. They just... they moved fast. One grabbed my arms. The other my legs. I tried to fight but?—"
My voice cracks. I stop. Sip the tea. It burns my tongue.
Dmitri's thumb strokes my thigh. Small circles. Steady rhythm.
"They blocked the door," I continue. "Barricaded it somehow. That's when one of them hit me. Across the face. Hard enough that I saw stars."
Pietro's expression doesn't change. But his knuckles go white where he grips the mantle.
"Then they carried me to the van. Threw me in the back. I hit my head when I landed. Everything went black."
Nico resumes pacing. "The man who grabbed you first. The one who was shot. He wasn't part of the extraction team."
"What do you mean?" I look at him.
"I mean he was a distraction. A sacrifice." Nico's mind is working. I can see it in his eyes. "They knew someone would shoot him."
"Or," Lorenzo says quietly, "he was supposed to take you earlier but failed. And they had a backup plan."
"No." Nico shakes his head. "Too coordinated. The timing was perfect. The moment he went down, the other two were there. They knew exactly where to be. What to do."
"Our team is processing the bodies now," Pietro says. "Running prints. Checking for identifying marks. Anything that might tell us who sent them."
"They won't find anything," Bruno says from his wheelchair. His voice is bitter. Cold. "Professionals don't carry identification."
"They might find something," Nico counters. "A tattoo. A scar. A dental record. Something."
I take another sip of tea. My hands shake slightly. I set the mug on the coffee table.
"When I woke up in the van, I was alone. My wrists and ankles were zip-tied. I could hear them talking in the front.
I pause. Remember the panic. The way my heart hammered against my ribs.
"I knew I had to activate the tracker. But my hands were behind my back. And I was wearing heels."
"I managed to twist my body. Get my fingers near my right heel. The tracker is embedded in the sole. There's a small mechanism. You have to press it just right."
My fingers flex unconsciously. Remembering.
"My fingers kept slipping. And I was terrified they'd hear me moving. But I got it. Pressed the button. Felt it click."
"How long before they stopped?" Pietro asks.
"Maybe thirty seconds. A minute at most."
I close my eyes. See it again. The van doors opening. Light flooding in.
"I pretended to be unconscious. Kept my breathing slow. Even. They opened the doors. Two men. The same who grabbed me."
"How many total did you see?" Nico stops pacing again.
"Three. The two who took me from the alley. And one more at the warehouse."
