Chapter 7 - THE GHOST ON THE PLATFORM
“Elena!” Luca’s voice cracked, a sound of pure agony and relief.
He lunged forward, shielding Isabella with his body while pulling Elena into the tightest embrace I had ever seen. The mafia boss, the ruthless leader, buried his face in his wife’s neck and wept.
“I’m here, my love,” Elena whispered, her hands shaking as she stroked his hair. “I’m here.”
“M-Mommy?” Isabella sobbed, burying her face in Elena’s coat.
“My little bird,” Elena cried, kissing the top of her daughter's head.
But the touching reunion was shattered by the sharp crack of a bullet striking the concrete pillar inches from my head.
“Get down!” Luca roared, shoving Elena and Isabella behind the thick steel columns of the platform.
He drew his weapon and fired two rapid shots toward the upper walkway. The red laser danced wildly across the ceiling as the sniper took cover.
“Give me the microfilm, Luca!” Vanessa’s voice shrieked over the megaphone, losing all its previous smugness. “The Syndicate is already on their way! You can't fight them all!”
“How did you get here?” Luca asked Elena, keeping his eyes on the walkway.
“Rosa,” Elena breathed heavily, clutching her side. “When Vanessa’s men came to the house, Rosa faked a heart attack. In the confusion, she untied me. I took Antonio’s van.”
“Where is Rosa now?” I asked.
“She took the van to get help,” Elena said. She looked at me, her dark eyes filling with tears. “You must be Sophia’s granddaughter. Emily. You have her eyes.”
“There's no time for a family reunion!” Vanessa screamed from above. “Shoot them! Shoot the kid!”
Another bullet ricocheted off the steel pillar.
“We’re pinned down,” Luca growled, checking his magazine. “I only have six rounds left.”
“Mr. Moretti,” I said, my heart pounding. I looked at the train idling beside us. The doors were still open. “The train.”
Luca looked back. “It’s a steel trap. If we get on, we’re sitting ducks.”
“Not if it moves,” I said.
I didn't wait for permission. I scrambled across the platform, staying low, and threw myself into the open doorway of the train car.
“Emily!” Luca shouted.
I ignored him. I ran through the passenger car, heading straight for the conductor’s cabin at the front.
The cabin was empty. The conductor had fled when the shooting started.
I slammed my hands against the control panel. I had no idea how to drive a train, but my uncle had been a mechanic. Green meant go.
I pushed the heavy throttle lever forward.
The massive engine groaned. Steam hissed violently. Slowly, the train began to roll forward.
I ran back into the passenger car, hanging out the open door.
“Jump!” I screamed.
Luca didn't hesitate. He grabbed Isabella and tossed her into my waiting arms. I caught her, dragging her into the safety of the train.
Elena jumped next, stumbling onto the carpeted floor.
Luca turned to fire one last suppressing shot at the walkway, then leaped toward the moving train.
He caught the metal handrail, his boots dragging against the concrete platform. I grabbed his coat, hauling him inside just as a bullet shattered the glass door behind him.
The train picked up speed, pulling out of Union Station and plunging into the dark, rainy Chicago night.
We collapsed on the floor, breathing heavily in the dim emergency lighting.
“You did it,” Luca panted, looking at me with genuine awe. “You saved us.”
But Elena wasn't celebrating.
She was staring at the floor of the train car.
A puddle of blood was slowly expanding beneath her wool coat.
“Elena?” Luca whispered, his face going pale.
She smiled weakly, holding a trembling hand over her stomach. “I think... she clipped me, Luca.”
Her eyes rolled back, and she collapsed against the seats.
And from the next train car over, the heavy metal door slowly slid open.
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Three men in dark suits stepped through, pulling long, curved knives from their jackets.
The Syndicate had already boarded the train.
