Chapter 6 #2
Jonah's resolve crumbled. "I don't know all of them. We got orders through intermediaries. Money transferred to offshore accounts. Antonio's been planning this for weeks."
The nurse stood frozen beside him, her face pale with terror.
"Planning what exactly?" Enzo demanded.
"The extraction. He wants the girl back. Tonight." Jonah's words came out in a rush now, desperate to bargain. "But Antonio's not coming himself. He's sending someone else—a specialist. Said his name was Falco."
I saw Enzo's face go pale. "Gianni Falco?"
"You know him?" the nurse whispered, her accent thick with fear.
"By reputation." Enzo's voice was grim. "He's Antonio's cleanup man. The one they call when things need to disappear permanently."
My blood ran cold. Not just capture—execution.
"There's more," Jonah continued, trying to buy mercy with information. "They know about the safe room routes. All of them. That's why they paid us so much—for the building schematics, the security protocols, everything."
Enzo grabbed my arm gently. "We need to get you to the boss. Now. Our standard protection protocols are compromised." He spoke into his radio. "I need a team to secure these two until—"
But when he turned back, both Jonah and the nurse were gone. They'd slipped away during his moment of distraction. "Fuck!" Enzo cursed, speaking rapidly into his radio. "We have two escapees—Jonah and an unknown female in medical scrubs. Consider them armed and dangerous."
As we moved through the corridors, I could see the evidence of an impending crisis everywhere. Guards running to defensive positions. Weapons being distributed. The distant sound of vehicles being moved.
"How many traitors are there?" I asked as we hurried toward the main house.
"Unknown. Could be three, could be ten. We're operating under the assumption that anyone not in the inner circle is compromised."
We reached the main house as the sun was setting, painting the sky blood red. Through the windows, I could see a convoy of vehicles approaching the gates—too many, too organized.
"Are those ours?" I asked, pointing to the approaching headlights.
Enzo studied them, his expression troubled. "This feels wrong. Too obvious. Antonio's never been this direct." He spoke rapidly into his radio. "Boss, we have a problem. Multiple problems. Antonio's men are on the property, and we have a confirmed traitor situation."
Vittorio's voice crackled back, sharp with tension: "How many traitors?"
"At least one confirmed, possibly more. Jonah and a fake nurse were trying to sedate Sophie for extraction. And Boss—they're not just coming for her. They sent Falco."
The silence that followed was deafening. Then: "Jesus Christ. Bring her to me. Now. Forget the safe room—they've compromised our routes. Bring her straight to my office."
"Copy that."
As we made our way through the house, past guards who might or might not be loyal, Enzo's radio crackled again.
"Sir, we've lost contact with the perimeter team. And there's something else—Jonah's gone."
Enzo swore under his breath. "What do you mean, gone?"
He slipped away during the chaos. One of the guards says he saw him near the boss's study, then heading for the service exit."
I saw Enzo's face go pale as he spoke into his radio. "Boss, you don't think he—"
Vittorio's voice crackled through the radio, grim and deadly: "The flash drive. While I was mobilizing the rescue, he doubled back.”
"Fuck," Enzo muttered. "He's going to warn them that we're onto their plan."
But it was too late for that. As we rounded the corner toward Vittorio's office, the lights suddenly cut out. Emergency lighting kicked in a second later, bathing everything in red.
"That's not a power outage," Enzo said grimly. "That's them cutting the main line."
The assault had begun ahead of schedule.
Explosions rocked the house—not massive, but precise. Flashbangs designed to disorient rather than destroy. Through the smoke and chaos, I could hear boots on marble floors, moving with military precision.
"They're inside," I whispered.
Enzo pulled me against the wall, weapon drawn. "Falco knows Jonah was compromised. He's moving up the timeline."
More explosions. Smoke began filling the corridor, making it impossible to see more than a few feet in any direction. My eyes watered, and I pressed my sleeve to my mouth.
"Stay behind me," Enzo commanded, but his voice sounded strange, distorted.
That's when I realized the smoke wasn't just smoke—it was laced with something. A chemical agent that made thinking difficult, movement sluggish.
"Enzo," I tried to say, but my tongue felt thick.
He turned, and I saw his eyes were dilated, unfocused. Whatever they'd released into the air was affecting him, too.
Dark figures emerged from the smoke like ghosts. I tried to run, but my legs wouldn't obey. The world tilted sideways as strong arms grabbed me.
"Got her," a voice said through a gas mask. "Target secured."
I fought weakly, but the chemical agent had sapped my strength. As they carried me through the smoke-filled corridors, I caught a glimpse of Enzo on the floor, still alive but unconscious.
The last thing I saw before everything went black was a man in tactical gear removing his mask. His face was scarred, his smile predatory.
Was this Falco? The specialist Enzo had mentioned?
"Hello, beautiful," the man said. "Antonio's been looking forward to seeing you again."
Then darkness claimed me, and I knew nothing more.