I check my weapon one more time, feeling the familiar weight of it in my hands. "We figure it out as we go, but we don't stop or slow down. We get to Giulia, and we get her out, no matter what it takes."
Romeo's hand clamps down on my shoulder, squeezing once. "Let's bring her home."
I signal our men. They're good soldiers—loyal, competent, willing to die for the family. Tonight, they might have to prove it.
The shots come almost simultaneously, barely audible. Both guards drop without a sound, cigarettes falling from slack fingers to scatter embers across the concrete. Our men are already moving, dragging the bodies out of sight and moving to watch for anyone else.
Romeo and I move toward the service door. It’s unlocked, and we slip inside into a dimly lit corridor that smells like motor oil.
The warehouse interior is exactly as I pictured it from the schematics: a massive open space with exposed metal beams overhead, concrete floors, and industrial lighting that leaves large portions of the space in shadow. But the schematics didn't show the dozen Marchesi soldiers scattered throughout the space, or account for the maze of equipment and storage creating blind corners and kill zones. We're outnumbered at least two to one, maybe worse.
I don't care.
The first soldier we encounter is standing with his back to us, talking into a radio in Italian too rapid for me to follow. Romeo moves before I can, closing the distance and wrapping an arm around the man's throat, cutting off his air and his voice simultaneously. The radio clatters to the floor as the soldier struggles, his hands clawing uselessly at Romeo's forearm, and then Romeo twists sharply, and there's a wet crack that echoes in the enclosed space. The body drops, and we keep moving.
Two more soldiers appear from behind a stack of pallets, weapons already rising, and I fire on instinct. The suppressor keeps the shots quiet enough that they won't immediately alert the entire warehouse, but both men go down hard, one of them getting off a wild shot that ricochets off a metal beam with a sound like a bell being struck.
So much for stealth.
Shouting erupts from deeper in the warehouse—Italian and English mixing together in a chaos of alarm and aggression. I can hear boots pounding on concrete, weapons being readied, the organized chaos of soldiers responding to a threat. We've lost the element of surprise, but we still have momentum.
"Move!" I'm already running toward where the layout showed a series of smaller rooms along the eastern wall—offices, storage, places where a hostage might be stashed. Romeo is right behind me, and the warehouse explodes into violence around us.
Muzzle flashes light up the darkness. The sound is overwhelming until it's impossible to tell which direction the shots are coming from. A bullet passes so close to my head I feel the air, and I drop into a crouch behind a piece of machinery, returning fire at shapes moving in the shadows.
One of them drops. Maybe two. I can't tell anymore because everything is chaos. Romeo appears beside me, and I notice forthe first time that his left shoulder is dark with blood, spreading across his tactical vest in a stain that's growing with each second.
"You're hit.” My stomach tightens with worry.
"I'm fine." He's already moving again, weapon raised, and I can see the lie in the way he's favoring his right side, the slight hitch in his movement. "Keep moving. We've gotta be close."
A Marchesi soldier comes around a corner directly in front of us, and Romeo takes him down with two shots to the chest before the man can even raise his weapon. We step over the body and keep moving. I'm operating on pure instinct, my tactical training taking over.
The hallway narrows, doors appearing on either side, and I check each one as we pass. Each empty room sends another spike of fear through me, making me certain we're too late, that Alessandro has already?—
No.I can't think like that.
The hallway opens into a larger space, and I can see more doors ahead and hear voices coming from somewhere close. We're running out of time.
A burst of automatic fire zips across the wall beside my head, and I drop and roll, coming up firing at the muzzle flash. Someone screams and the shooting stops. I scramble to my feet again, moving forward. Romeo is beside me despite the pain that has to be radiating through his entire left side.
We round another corner, and I hear Giulia's voice.
Everything else falls away. The gunfire, the chaos, the blood and smoke and violence—all of it becomes background noise to the sound of her voice cutting through the warehouse.
"Giulia!" I break into a run, following the sound. I don't care anymore about tactics or cover or the very real possibility that I'm running straight into an ambush. All I care about is getting to her, seeing her alive… knowing that I'm not too late.
I turn a corner and see her stumbling through the smoke, her dress torn and her feet bare, her face streaked with tears and what might be blood. She's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
I go straight to her, grabbing her and pulling her into my arms. Everything blurs, and all I can think about is that she’s in my arms, words spilling from my lips as I run my hands over her, making sure she’s real.
There’s a rattle of gunfire and I jerk alert again, pushing her behind me. “It’s not over yet. We still have to get out of here.”
And then I see Alessandro, coming toward us from the darkness and smoke.
His face is covered in blood from a wound on his head that's still bleeding freely, his eyes wild with rage. He has a gun in his hand, and it's pointed directly at Giulia.
I raise my gun, and his eyes glint wildly. "Stop." Alessandro's voice is rough and angry. "Stop right there, or I'll kill her. I swear to God, I'll put a bullet in her head right now."
