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Enzo rises and drifts to the large map spread across the table at the center of the room. The paper is worn, creased, and marked in places that don’t pertain to this mission. The ink looks as black as dried blood.
The river, the rail lines, and the sprawling grid of warehouses and abandoned factories litter the paper. Somewhere in that mess of concrete and rust, Jenna is being held by a man who would kill her without a second thought.
“We need a plan.” My words come out with surprising strength. “Bruno wants the notes Matteo hid, so he needs me alive and cooperative. That means we have leverage.”
Marco looks at me with an inscrutable expression that causes my chest to ache. “You aren’t going anywhere near him. We’re sending in a team to scout the area and narrow down the location.”
“We have to hurry.” I turn to Nico, then to Enzo, my voice trembling.
Marco shakes his head. “But you can’t go in there, Lucia. I know Bruno. Even if he gets the notes, he won’t let Jenna go. He’ll kill her anyway because that’s who he is. We can’t just hand over what he wants and hope for the best. Jenna must be extracted by any means necessary.”
Enzo considers me for a while, calculating and reassessing. “You’ve thought about this.”
“I haven’t been able to think past it since that text came through.”
He waves his fingers over the piece of paper. “Do you see anything on this map that seems similar to what Jenna described?”
I trace my finger along the Industrial District beside the river. “Nico said the call came from this area. Jenna mentioned water and a train. She must be near one of the old rail bridges or one of the warehouses with direct river access. Only a handful of buildings fit both criteria.”
Nico brings up satellite images on his tablet, and we spend the next hour sorting through the possibilities.
I’m not an operative. I don’t know how to clear a room or disable a security system. But I know how to assess risk and triage a crisis, and those skills translate better than I expected. Marco starts asking me questions about medical contingencies. How long can Jenna survive without food or water? What injuries can they treat in the field, and which ones require immediate evacuation?
By the time we have a working plan, the clock on the wall reads one in the morning. The soldiers disperse to prepare their gear, while Nico goes off to coordinate the surveillance teams that will start monitoring the likely locations before dawn. Enzo pours himself a drink and directs us to get some rest, though we all know rest is impossible.
Marco and I soon find ourselves alone in the study, the map still open between us. The weight of what we’re about to do weighs down on my chest like a stone.
He speaks softly. “We’ll get her back. I can handle Bruno if I know you’re here and safe.”
“I’ll stay put.”
He draws me into his arms, and I cling to him so tightly that I feel his heart pounding against my chest, matching my own frantic rhythm.
“Come back to me.” I whisper the plea against his neck, the same prayer I’ve offered up since the first time I realized I couldn’t live without him.
“Always.” His voice is rough with emotion, with love, with the promise that he’ll fight his way through hell to find his way back to me.
We stay like this for a long time, entwined in Enzo’s study with the map still spread across the table. A sharp, cold, relentless anxiety burns in my stomach. Marco is my comfort, with his arms around me and his breath warm against my hair. I tell myself that whatever happens tomorrow, we’ll face it together.
For Jenna’s sake, for my sake, and for the sake of a future I’m not ready to give up on, that has to be enough.
Chapter 26
Marco
Bruno shortened his deadline the moment he knew Lucia told me about it, leaving us with the knowledge that every minute we spend planning, Jenna could be lost or relocated. By the time Vito confirms the location, my skin crawls with the need to act. Bruno’s men stashed Jenna in a warehouse on the edge of Newark’s industrial wasteland. It’s an abandoned building with broken windows and rusting pillars. The perfect hideout.
I’ve studied the blueprints for hours, committed every entrance and exit to memory, and mapped every blind spot. Now, I’m crouched in the shadow of an abandoned factory across the street with cold, damp concrete seeping into my knees. Two guards at the front entrance rotate every twenty minutes while a third patrols the perimeter.
The third guard is sloppy, his attention fixed on his phone more than the sight lines. Based on the heat signatures from the drone scanner Nico ran twenty minutes ago, at least four more wait inside.
Nico’s voice crackles in my earpiece. “Confirming intel. Jenna’s on the second floor, east side. They’ve got her in what looks like an old office space. Single guard posted outside her door, rotating on the same schedule as the front.”
I take in the information with a deep breath. Behind me, six Benedetti soldiers stay perfectly still. Vito and Rocco are at the front, along with four others chosen for their discretion and their aim.
The night air carries the scent of rust, diesel, and the nearby river. Adrenaline charges the heavy silence, promising that the next few minutes will break into violence.
“Remember,” I keep my voice barely above a breath, “our primary objective is the girl. The secondary goal is to capture Bruno’s men for interrogation. We want names, locations, and connections. Bruno’s not here…we know that going in…but someone in that building knows where he’s hiding, and we’re going to find out who.”
