The morning sun had barely risen when Luca stood atop a ridge overlooking the valley, the mist curling around his boots as he gazed out over the land below. The weight of the last night's revelations pressed heavily on his shoulders. Müller's words had planted a seed of doubt, but they had also confirmed Luca's worst fears: time was running out.
Enzo joined him, his face as serious as ever. "The men are ready to move. Supplies are packed, and Müller... well, he's still in one piece for now."
Luca nodded, keeping his eyes on the distant horizon. "Good. We can't waste any more time. I want half of our forces headed to the mountains by midday. The rest will stay here and prepare to disrupt the Germans however we can."
Enzo glanced at him. "And Müller? Are we trusting what he says?"
Luca hesitated, the quiet of the morning broken only by the distant chirping of birds. "For now. We'll keep him close until we verify his information. He might be our only advantage in this fight."
The two men descended back into the camp, where the other resistance fighters were busy preparing for the day. Tents were coming down, supplies were being loaded into packs, and the air was thick with a sense of urgency. The camp that had been their home, their shelter, was being dismantled piece by piece.
Sophia stood near the fire, checking her rifle with quick, efficient movements. When she saw Luca approaching, she looked up, her expression grim.
"Matteo and I scouted the area this morning. No signs of German patrols yet, but it won't be long. We need to be out of here before they close in."
Luca nodded. "How soon can we leave?"
"An hour, maybe less. Everyone's ready."
Satisfied, Luca moved through the camp, checking on the fighters, offering words of encouragement where he could. But in his heart, he knew that many of these men and women wouldn't survive the next few weeks. War was closing in on them from all sides, and survival seemed more like a distant dream with each passing day.
As he approached the tree where Müller was being held, Luca caught the officer's gaze. There was fear there, but also something else—resentment. Müller was no coward, that much was clear. And yet, the man had given up crucial information without much resistance. It made Luca uneasy.
"Bring him to the meeting point," Luca said to the guard, who nodded and roughly pulled Müller to his feet.
Soon, the entire resistance force was gathered at the base of the ridge. Luca stood before them, the weight of leadership heavy in his voice as he spoke.
"We've got two priorities right now: survive and disrupt the German forces. The enemy is moving faster than we expected, and they'll be sweeping this region soon. We have to be ready to strike hard and fast, but we can't afford to be reckless. That's why we're splitting up. Half of you will head to the mountains with the supplies. The other half will stay here with me."
He let his gaze sweep over the faces in front of him, their expressions a mixture of determination and fear. "Those of us staying will do everything we can to make the Germans' lives hell. We'll sabotage their supply lines, ambush their patrols, and keep them off balance. But make no mistake—we're going to lose people. This isn't just about survival anymore. It's about making sure that when the Allies come, we've given them a fighting chance."
The fighters nodded, murmurs of agreement passing through the group. Luca could see the resolve in their eyes, but also the fear. They had already lost so many, and the war had no end in sight.
As the group began to disperse, Luca caught sight of Fabrizio, standing off to the side. The young man had proven himself valuable, guiding them through enemy territory and helping secure the supplies, but Luca could see the toll the war was taking on him. Fabrizio was still haunted by the weeks he had spent as a prisoner of the Germans.
"You all right?" Luca asked, stepping up beside him.
Fabrizio looked up, his eyes shadowed by exhaustion. "I'm fine. Just... thinking."
"About what?"
Fabrizio hesitated, glancing toward the direction of the German depot. "About whether we can really win this. The Germans are stronger, better equipped. No matter how many supply lines we cut, they'll just send more men, more tanks. I don't know if we're making a difference anymore."
Luca placed a hand on his shoulder, his voice steady. "We are. Every bullet, every bomb we deny them is a step toward victory. Don't let doubt creep in now. We've come too far."
Fabrizio nodded, but the doubt didn't leave his eyes. Luca couldn't blame him. The constant fighting, the endless losses—it wore down even the strongest among them. But they couldn't afford to stop now.
As midday approached, the two groups were ready to part ways. Enzo would lead the group heading to the mountains, taking most of the supplies with him. Luca would stay behind with a smaller force, prepared to strike at the Germans when they least expected it.
Before they left, Enzo clasped Luca's hand in a firm grip. "Watch yourself, brother. We'll be waiting for you in the mountains."
"You just keep them safe," Luca replied. "We'll be there soon enough."
The two men shared a silent understanding before Enzo turned and led his group into the forest. Luca watched them go, a part of him wishing he were heading to safety as well. But his place was here, in the thick of the fight.
With the camp now dismantled, Luca gathered his remaining fighters and led them deeper into the forest, to a series of hidden caves that had served as temporary bases before. They would strike from there, moving quickly and disappearing just as fast.
As the day wore on, they set up in the caves, preparing for the attacks they would launch on the German supply lines. Müller remained their prisoner, now kept under tighter watch. Luca had no illusions about the dangers of keeping the officer alive, but the information Müller had provided was too valuable to ignore.
Night fell, and Luca sat by the entrance of the cave, staring out into the darkened forest. Sophia joined him, her eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of movement.
"What's on your mind?" she asked quietly, sitting beside him.
"Everything," Luca admitted. "The war, the Germans, Antonio. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing the right thing."
Sophia glanced at him, her expression softening. "You're doing what you have to. We all are. None of us wanted this war, but we're in it now. And you're keeping us alive."
"Am I? Or am I just delaying the inevitable?"
"You're keeping hope alive, Luca," she said firmly. "And that's more than most can say."
Luca fell silent, the weight of her words settling over him. He wanted to believe her, but the doubt remained, gnawing at him in the quiet moments of the night.
Just as he was about to speak again, a noise echoed through the forest—a distant rumble, faint but unmistakable.
"Do you hear that?" Sophia whispered, her hand moving to her rifle.
Luca nodded, rising to his feet, his senses on high alert. The rumble grew louder, closer. It was the sound of engines—trucks or tanks, moving through the forest.
The Germans were coming.