The train rumbled steadily along the tracks, a low hum that matched the tension hanging in the air. Luca sat near the window, his eyes scanning the landscape as it rolled past—olive groves, rolling hills, the occasional glimpse of distant villages. The beauty of Italy's countryside felt jarring compared to the darkness they were carrying with them.
The small compartment was cramped, filled with the quiet murmurs of resistance fighters who had spread out across different carriages, blending in with the other passengers. Some wore the clothes of farmers and merchants, others disguised as civilians traveling for work. Each one carried the weight of their mission: to reach Rome with the ledger and deliver its damning evidence to the Allies.
Maria sat beside Luca, her eyes scanning the faces of passengers as they walked through the aisles, ever watchful. Across from them sat Marco, his leg bouncing anxiously, his gaze fixed on the floor. He hadn't said much since they left the farmhouse, but Luca could feel the fear radiating off him. They all knew the mafia had their spies everywhere, and it was only a matter of time before Franco realized where they were headed.
"We're halfway there," Maria whispered, breaking the silence. "Another few hours, and we'll be in Rome."
Luca nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. His thoughts drifted to Franco—what he might be planning, how close he was to finding them. He couldn't shake the feeling that their escape from Palermo had been too easy. Franco had let them go, or at least, he hadn't thrown everything at them yet. And that made Luca uneasy.
"They'll be waiting for us," Luca said quietly, his voice low enough that only Maria and Marco could hear. "Franco's smart. He'll anticipate our route."
Maria met his gaze, her face hard with determination. "We'll be ready."
Luca wished he shared her confidence. The stakes had never been higher. The ledger wasn't just their ticket to victory; it was a target on their backs. If Franco or the mafia got hold of it, everything they had fought for would be lost.
Hours passed, and the train snaked through the mountains, the landscape growing more rugged and isolated. The sun had dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the land. Luca could feel the tension mounting with every passing mile. His instincts told him something was wrong—there was a stillness in the air, like the calm before a storm.
Suddenly, the train jerked violently, the sound of screeching metal filling the air as it began to slow down. Luca's heart raced as he stood, looking out the window. In the distance, he could see dark figures standing on the tracks ahead, their faces obscured by the night, but the gleam of their rifles unmistakable.
"It's an ambush," Luca hissed, grabbing Maria's arm.
Marco shot up from his seat, panic in his eyes. "What do we do?"
"There's no time," Luca said, already moving toward the back of the train. "We have to get off before they search the compartments."
The train groaned to a stop, and Luca could hear the muffled voices of soldiers barking orders outside. They were surrounded. He glanced at Maria, who nodded, understanding his silent command. They had to split up.
"You and Marco take the ledger," Luca whispered urgently. "Go through the woods and follow the river. It'll lead you to the outskirts of Rome. I'll distract them."
"No," Maria said sharply, grabbing his arm. "We're not splitting up. We stick together."
Luca shook his head. "There's no time to argue. Franco's men will tear this train apart. If we stay together, we're dead. We need to divide their attention."
Maria's grip tightened on his arm, her eyes filled with defiance. "We'll make it together, or not at all."
The door to the compartment slid open, and Luca barely had time to react before the butt of a rifle smashed into the side of his head. Stars exploded in his vision as he stumbled back, hitting the ground hard. Through the haze, he saw Maria reach for her pistol, but before she could pull the trigger, a boot slammed into her chest, knocking her to the floor beside him.
A dark figure loomed over them, his face shadowed, but the voice was unmistakable.
"Well, well," Franco's voice was smooth, almost amused. "Look what we have here."
Luca struggled to focus, his vision blurred, but he could make out the shape of his brother standing over him, flanked by mafia soldiers. Franco crouched down, his face inches from Luca's, his breath cold against Luca's skin.
"You didn't think I'd let you make it to Rome, did you?"
Franco's men dragged Luca and Maria off the train, the cold night air biting into their skin as they were thrown onto the gravel beside the tracks. Luca's head throbbed where Franco had struck him, and his vision was still swimming, but he forced himself to stay conscious. He couldn't afford to black out now. Not when everything was at stake.
Franco paced in front of them, his face a mask of cool indifference. Behind him, the mafia soldiers ransacked the train, searching for Marco and the ledger.
"You always were the stubborn one, Luca," Franco said, his voice calm but laced with venom. "But you should've known better than to cross me."
Luca spat blood onto the ground, glaring up at his brother. "This isn't about us, Franco. It's about the people you're selling out. You're fighting for greed. For power. That's all you care about."
Franco's expression darkened. He knelt down beside Luca, his eyes flashing with anger. "You never understood, did you? This war, this country—it's all a game. And the only ones who survive are the ones willing to play it. You chose the losing side."
"Maybe," Luca said, his voice hoarse. "But at least I didn't sell my soul."
Franco's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Too bad you won't live long enough to see how wrong you are."
He stood and motioned to his men. "Kill them. We don't need them anymore."
Time seemed to slow as Luca watched the soldiers raise their rifles. This was it. After everything they had fought for, it was all going to end here, in the dark, beside a nameless stretch of railroad. He felt Maria's hand grip his, her fingers cold but strong. He squeezed back, refusing to give in to the fear that gnawed at his chest.
Just as the soldiers took aim, a shout rang out from the train, followed by the crack of gunfire. Luca turned his head in time to see Marco leap from the train, the ledger clutched tightly in his hands, firing wildly as he made a run for the woods.
Franco cursed, his attention diverted. "After him! Get that book!"
In the chaos, Luca seized the moment. He grabbed Maria's hand and pulled her to her feet, sprinting toward the cover of the trees as Franco's men scrambled to chase Marco.
Bullets whizzed past them, but Luca didn't stop. He couldn't. They had to reach the river. They had to survive. For the resistance. For the people. For each other.