The tension was suffocating. Luca's heart raced as the figure moved closer in the darkness, his pistol gripped tightly in his hand. Franco's men had found them, and the safehouse no longer felt safe. Every second felt like an eternity as they waited, hoping the soldier would pass without noticing them.
But hope was short-lived.
The soldier stopped just outside the farmhouse, his silhouette barely visible in the faint moonlight. He scanned the area, his rifle slung over his shoulder, as if sensing something was off. Luca crouched low, his eyes trained on the door. Maria was beside him, her breathing steady but her body tense, ready to spring into action.
"We can't wait," Giovanni whispered, his voice barely audible. "If he's scouting, there will be more behind him."
Luca nodded. He knew Giovanni was right. Franco's men didn't operate alone—they moved in squads, and if one had found them, the rest wouldn't be far behind. They had to act before they were surrounded.
"I'll take him out," Luca whispered, his eyes locked on the soldier outside. "We need to move fast, before the others catch up."
Giovanni placed a hand on Luca's shoulder. "Be careful. One wrong move and he'll alert the others."
Luca nodded, his pulse quickening as he moved silently toward the door. He glanced back at Maria and Marco, who were both ready to follow his lead. With a deep breath, he pushed the door open just wide enough to slip through, disappearing into the night.
Outside, the cool night air hit Luca's face as he crept through the tall grass, inching closer to the soldier. The man had stopped near a tree, his back turned, seemingly unaware of Luca's approach. The moonlight cast long shadows, but Luca stayed low, moving like a predator stalking its prey.
He was close now—close enough to hear the man muttering something under his breath, perhaps speaking into a radio. Luca's heart pounded in his ears as he slowly rose, his pistol aimed squarely at the soldier's back.
In one swift motion, Luca lunged forward, wrapping his arm around the man's neck and clamping a hand over his mouth to stifle any sound. The soldier struggled, his hands flailing for his weapon, but Luca held firm, pulling him back into the shadows. Within seconds, the soldier's body went limp, and Luca gently lowered him to the ground.
It was over quickly. Luca stood over the body, breathing heavily as he scanned the area for any sign of more soldiers. The night remained quiet for now, but he knew it wouldn't last.
Luca signaled to the others, and within moments, Maria, Marco, and Giovanni emerged from the farmhouse. They moved swiftly, taking what little supplies they could carry and slipping into the trees, disappearing into the dense forest. They had no time to waste. Franco's men would soon realize their scout had gone missing.
The forest was thick with shadows as they pressed on, moving deeper into the wilderness. Every crack of a twig, every rustle of leaves set Luca's nerves on edge. They couldn't afford another close call—not so soon after the last one.
Giovanni led the way, his knowledge of the terrain once again proving invaluable. They moved swiftly but carefully, taking winding paths through the underbrush that made it harder for anyone to track them. The road to Rome was still far, but they had to keep moving.
"Do you think Franco knows where we're headed?" Marco asked, his voice barely above a whisper as they navigated through the trees.
"He knows," Luca replied grimly. "Franco always knows. But he doesn't know exactly where we are—yet. We just have to stay ahead of him."
Maria kept a sharp eye on the rear, watching for any signs of pursuit. "Franco's men are well-trained. They won't stop until they've found us. We need to find a place to hide, or better yet, lose them for good."
Luca knew she was right. They couldn't keep running forever. Franco's men were relentless, and with every passing hour, the noose tightened around them. But hiding wasn't an option either. They had to keep moving forward, toward Rome, toward their only hope of stopping Franco.
The group pushed on through the night, their pace unrelenting. The trees provided cover, but the uneven terrain made the journey exhausting. By the time the first light of dawn began to filter through the canopy, they were all weary, their bodies aching from the constant movement.
Giovanni finally called for a halt near a small stream, where they could rest briefly and refill their water canteens. The group collapsed onto the ground, grateful for even a moment of respite.
As they sat in silence, the weight of their mission pressed down on them. The ledger was their only weapon against Franco, but delivering it to Rome felt like an impossible task. Every step they took seemed to lead them deeper into enemy territory, and with Franco's men closing in, the odds of success felt slimmer by the minute.
"What if we don't make it?" Marco asked suddenly, his voice breaking the silence. "What if Franco finds us before we can get to Rome?"
Luca didn't answer right away. The thought had crossed his mind more than once. Franco was a relentless enemy, and they were just four people, alone in the wilderness. But Luca couldn't afford to give in to doubt—not now.
"We'll make it," Luca said firmly, though the uncertainty gnawed at him. "We have to."
Maria looked at him, her eyes filled with a quiet determination. "Franco may have the advantage now, but we have something he doesn't—a cause worth fighting for. And that's what will keep us going."
Luca nodded, though he knew it would take more than belief to see them through. Franco had resources, men, and a network of allies. They had each other, and a ledger full of dangerous secrets.
But maybe—just maybe—that would be enough.
As they rested by the stream, Giovanni suddenly tensed, his ears pricking at the sound of distant footsteps. Luca heard it too—the faint crunch of leaves underfoot, growing louder by the second.
"Someone's coming," Giovanni hissed, his hand reaching for his rifle.
The group scattered into the underbrush, taking cover behind trees and rocks as they waited. The footsteps drew nearer, and Luca's heart raced as he prepared for another fight.
But then, from the shadows, a voice called out—a familiar voice.
"Luca! Maria! It's me—Enzo!"
Luca's eyes widened as a figure stepped into view. It was Enzo, a fellow member of the resistance, his face pale and his clothes dirty from days on the run. Relief flooded through Luca as he lowered his weapon and stepped out from behind his cover.
"Enzo, what are you doing here?" Luca asked, his voice filled with surprise.
Enzo glanced around nervously, his eyes darting through the trees. "Franco's men are everywhere. They're hunting you. I've been trying to catch up to warn you."
"We know they're close," Maria said, stepping forward. "But how did you find us?"
Enzo's face darkened. "Because they're not far behind. I barely escaped their patrol this morning. You need to move—now."
Luca felt a cold chill run down his spine. They had barely managed to outrun Franco's men once, and now they were closing in again.
"We can't keep running forever," Luca muttered, his mind racing. "We need a plan."
Enzo nodded, urgency in his eyes. "There's a resistance safehouse not far from here. It's well-hidden, and it'll give you a chance to regroup. But you have to move fast."
Luca exchanged a glance with Maria and Giovanni. They didn't have a choice. The clock was ticking, and every second they stayed in one place brought Franco's men closer.
"Lead the way," Luca said, his voice resolute.
Enzo nodded and turned, leading them deeper into the forest. As they hurried through the trees, Luca couldn't shake the feeling that the walls were closing in around them. Franco was relentless, and no matter how far they ran, the shadow of his empire seemed to loom ever closer.
They had to get to Rome. It was their only hope of survival.
But Luca knew—deep down—that the real battle was yet to come.