Chapter 12 - THE FINAL FLIGHT
The scramble was terrifyingly silent.
Sofia packed Leo’s clothes with practiced efficiency, her face a mask of grim determination. I grabbed our passports and the small emergency cash reserve we kept under the floorboards.
Within ten minutes, we were piled into Eleanor Vance’s black sedan. The driver sped down the winding country roads, pushing the heavy car to its limits.
Luca sat in the back with Leo in his lap, his eyes scanning the dark tree lines out the window. "How many men took the contract?" he asked the driver.
"Chatter says a team of four," the driver replied gruffly. "Ex-military. They’re professional. If we make the airstrip, my security team will hold them off while you board."
We hit the county highway. The small, private airstrip was only three miles away.
Then, the headlights of an SUV flared in our rearview mirror, approaching at a reckless speed.
"They're on us," the driver growled, swerving violently to avoid being clipped.
Gunfire erupted. A bullet shattered the back window, showering us in safety glass. I threw myself over Sofia, pressing her down into the seats. Luca shielded Leo with his entire body, drawing his weapon.
The driver slammed the brakes, forcing the pursuing SUV to screech past us, but a second SUV appeared, blocking the road ahead.
We were boxed in.
"Stay down!" Luca yelled. He kicked his door open, stepping out into the crossfire.
The firefight was deafening. I couldn't see anything through the shattered windows, only the flashes of muzzle fire illuminating the dark highway.
Then, suddenly, the deafening roar of a helicopter engine rattled the car.
A massive black chopper descended rapidly over the road, its spotlight blinding the mercenaries in the SUVs. Armed men repelled down from the chopper, engaging the hit squad with overwhelming, brutal precision.
Within ninety seconds, the shooting stopped completely.
The driver of our car exhaled a shaky breath. "Well. That wasn't my team."
Luca slowly lowered his gun, staring at the men securing the area.
A tall man in a tactical vest walked over to the car. He pulled off his helmet.
It was Rossi.
Answer one: Rossi hadn't been killed at the harbor. He had disappeared.
Open one: Why was he saving us?
Open two: Who was paying him now?
"Rossi," Luca breathed, keeping his gun raised. "Give me one reason not to shoot you."
Rossi held up his hands, completely unarmed. "Because I just saved your life, boss. And because Antonio is dead. He was stabbed in the yard an hour ago. The bounty on the boy is cancelled."
Reversal: Antonio’s reign of terror was finally, permanently over. The monster was dead.
"Who sent you?" I asked, stepping out of the car, my legs shaking.
Rossi looked at me, then at Luca. He pulled a small, familiar silver pendant from his pocket—the one with the harbor engraving.
"Your mother sent me, Luca," Rossi said quietly. "She didn't die twenty-two years ago either. She's been hiding in Europe, waiting for Antonio to fall so she could come home. She runs the syndicate now. And she wants to meet her grandson."
Luca stared at the pendant, the weight of the revelation crashing over him. The family he thought he had lost was slowly, painfully, coming back to life.
Rossi stepped aside, gesturing to the helicopter. "She's waiting in Italy. Will you go?"
Luca looked back at the car. He looked at Sofia, who was weeping with joy. He looked at Leo, who was staring up at the helicopter with wide-eyed wonder.
And then, he looked at me.
He walked over, taking my face gently in his hands, his thumbs wiping the dust and glass from my cheeks.
"No more running, Rachel," Luca whispered fiercely. "No more secrets. We go together, or we don't go at all."
I looked into the eyes of the man I loved, the man who had burned down an empire to keep me safe. I didn't hesitate.
May you like
"Let's go meet your mother," I smiled.
We boarded the helicopter together, leaving the darkness of Chicago and the ghosts of the past scattered on the highway below, flying upward into the breaking dawn.
