The air in the camp was thick with tension. After the confrontation with Antonio, Luca knew time was running out. The betrayal had cracked something in him, but it also sharpened his resolve. He stood outside the resistance camp, watching the men and women who had placed their trust in him prepare for the inevitable clash with the Germans. His brother's choice had forced Luca's hand—and now, there was no turning back.
Sophia found him standing alone by the edge of the camp, staring into the horizon as dusk settled over the Sicilian hills.
"Luca," she said softly, stepping closer. "You're quieter than usual. Is it Antonio?"
He turned to her, his expression guarded. The way Sophia looked at him—it wasn't pity, but a quiet understanding. She had lost as much to the war as he had, maybe even more. Luca didn't need to explain his turmoil. She knew.
"He won't back down," Luca said after a long pause. "I gave him the chance to walk away, but he's too far gone. He believes the Germans will protect him. He thinks he can control them."
Sophia's face tightened. "Then he's a fool. The Germans only care about their victory, and once they've taken what they need, Antonio will be nothing more than another casualty."
"I know," Luca replied, his voice heavy. "But he doesn't see it. He's blinded by ambition."
Sophia stepped closer, her hand resting on his arm. "You did what you could, Luca. Sometimes family is the hardest battle we fight."
Luca's jaw clenched. "This battle isn't over yet."
She nodded, understanding the weight of what he meant. Luca wasn't just fighting a war of guns and bullets—he was fighting to save his brother from the darkness that had consumed him, even if it meant going to the edge of destruction himself.
As the night deepened, Luca, Sophia, and Enzo gathered in the tent to make their plans. The resistance leaders had been scattered after the German attack, and they needed to regroup before the next strike came. But more importantly, Luca needed to ensure the safety of the remaining fighters—and that meant making a bold move.
"We can't wait for the Germans to strike again," Luca said, spreading a map across the table. "Antonio knows our patterns. He'll be preparing the Germans for an attack. If we don't act first, they'll wipe us out."
Enzo, his face grim, nodded in agreement. "What's your plan?"
Luca pointed to a small village near the coast, nestled between the mountains. "There's a German outpost here, guarding a supply line. We hit them hard, destroy their communications, and cut off their reinforcements. It'll weaken their grip on the region and give us time to regroup."
Sophia studied the map. "It's a bold move. But it's dangerous. If we fail, the Germans will retaliate against the civilians."
Luca's eyes darkened. "I know. That's why we need precision. Small team, fast strike, and no casualties."
Enzo frowned. "You're thinking of an assassination."
"Yes," Luca said, his voice steady. "We take out the German commander, cut the head off the snake. Without leadership, their forces will scatter."
Sophia looked at him sharply. "That's not just a risky plan—it's personal."
Luca met her gaze, the weight of the mission settling over him. "It has to be. If Antonio is feeding them information, then he'll be there. This is the only way to stop him."
For a long moment, the tent was silent. Luca's words hung heavy in the air. Sophia understood what this meant for him—he wasn't just planning to kill the German commander. He was planning to confront Antonio again, and this time, it wouldn't end with words.
The journey to the village was quiet, the only sounds being the crunch of boots on the rocky path and the soft murmur of the wind through the trees. Luca led the small group through the hills, his heart pounding with the gravity of what lay ahead.
As they approached the outskirts of the village, the familiar sight of German soldiers patrolling the streets came into view. Luca signaled for the group to stop, crouching behind the thick cover of trees. From their vantage point, they could see the heavily fortified outpost at the edge of the village, surrounded by barbed wire and armed guards.
"There," Luca whispered, pointing to a tall building with a radio tower jutting into the sky. "The commander's quarters."
Enzo squinted, studying the patrol routes. "It's tight, but we can slip in through the back alley. We'll need to be quick."
Sophia crouched beside Luca, her hand resting lightly on his arm. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"
Luca nodded, though the knot in his stomach told him otherwise. "I don't have a choice."
They waited for the changing of the guard, the brief window of time when the patrols were thinnest. Then, with the precision of seasoned fighters, they moved. Slipping through the shadows of the village, the group kept low, avoiding the harsh beams of searchlights sweeping across the narrow streets.
When they reached the back of the commander's quarters, Luca pressed himself against the cold stone wall, his heart thudding in his chest. Enzo quietly took out the guard posted at the rear entrance, and they slipped inside.
The building was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of voices echoing from the upper floor. Luca signaled for Sophia and Enzo to follow him as they made their way up the stairs, careful not to make a sound.
When they reached the door to the commander's office, Luca froze. A familiar voice echoed from within. Antonio.
"I told you," Antonio's voice said, sharp with tension. "The resistance will strike soon. We need to be ready."
Luca's breath caught in his throat. His suspicions had been right—Antonio was here, feeding the Germans information.
Sophia's hand gripped his shoulder, grounding him. She gave him a look, asking silently what their next move would be.
Luca's mind raced. If he went in now, guns blazing, he'd not only risk the mission, but he might lose his chance to stop Antonio for good. But if he waited too long, the Germans would know something was wrong.
Taking a deep breath, Luca nodded to Enzo, who positioned himself by the door. With a swift motion, Luca kicked it open, his gun raised.
Inside, the German commander stood behind his desk, his hand reaching for his pistol. Antonio, standing beside him, froze in place, his eyes widening as he locked onto Luca.
For a moment, no one moved. The air was thick with tension, the sound of Luca's heartbeat pounding in his ears.
"Antonio," Luca said, his voice low and steady, "it's over."
Antonio's eyes flickered with something like regret before hardening again. "No, brother," he said, reaching for his own weapon. "It's just beginning."