Detroit, Michigan
"Don't let them tell you what is right and wrong! They are the same people who preach justice and equality, yet stuff themselves full with luxury! Don't feel bad for them. Every single one of them would snuff you out if it gave them an extra dollar. Every. Single. One of them."
Drystan ended the broadcast, grinning ear-to-ear as he walked around the set. He pumped his fists up, muffling his cheers.
"That's the first time I've seen you smile," Madelyn remarked.
"It's incredible!" He chuckled. "People are finally listening to me—they're realizing everything I have already noticed! Just watch!" Drystan leaped to his computer, opening a grainy video taken at a federal building in California. The recorder and dozens of others broke inside amid screams, chasing down office workers with guns or blunt weapons. One worker pleaded for his life, only to be struck down with a baseball bat.
Drystan jumped like a giddy child. "These government servants never would have batted an eye to our troubles. They've worked for this corrupt system and contributed to all the shit that's happened to us in the past decade! And now they're feeling what we go through every day. They had it coming."
Madelyn kept her teeth clamped.
"The best part is, I told them about this place that harbors these selfishly rich. I exposed this place, and the people exacted justice!"
"And... killing these office workers ends corruption, how?"
In an instant, Drystan's frivolous demeanor dissipated. Once again, he was the confused, arrogant man she knew him for. "This is how you bring down the top. The bricks make up the building. You take out the legs, and when they look out and see that they've lost everything, that is when justice is served. Then they know what we had."
"I get it, I get it..." She just wanted him to shut up.
Thankfully, Drystan returned to his computer, and Madelyn could focus on her device. As requested, Clera sent her everything related to Agent 47 and his career in the ICA. Instead, scrolling through every contract, she bit her lip until they bled. It was green across the board.
She hoped to see the one thing that would alleviate her worry: a failed mission.
Madelyn remembered their last meeting in the virtual world. Where did Surtr say 47 would be...?
"We're almost there, principessa," Romeo De Falco said through gritted teeth. A couple of bystanders, one of the few out in the streets of nighttime Rome, screamed and jumped out of the way. The car swerved out of the alleyway and onto a street. The buildings cleared up, revealing the Tyrrhenian Sea in the distance. Romeo eyed the dock, particularly the ferry that just arrived. "Atta boy, Greg..."
"They're behind us!" Her breath quivered, though he knew it wasn't out of fear for her fate. Romeo would certainly suffer for days if they caught up to him.
He glanced at the rearview mirror. The Antonellis must have sent their entire garage after them. Chuckling, he took Giulietta's hand, giving her a brief pause as he pushed the gas pedal as far as it could go.
The two pressed into their seats as their surroundings blurred. The ferry connected its ramp to the dock. "Hand me the radio!" They flashed past an intersection. When the pedestrian vehicles honked, they were already far behind.
"When you said, you'd whisk me away under the moon, I pictured something less life-threatening!" She had to yell louder than the tire screeches as she passed the radio.
Romeo merely smirked at her, putting it to his mouth. "Gregario! Tell the captain to go!"
"What?" Both Giulietta and Gregario spat the word.
She looked out the windshield. They rapidly closed in on the ferry, but there was no way they could make it! But, noticing the motorcade of vehicles still on their tail, she knew there was no other option.
The ferry blared its horn, and they both saw the terminal leading into the car deck shift. Inside were several suited men at the side. The Agostis' soldiers.
The ramp departed from land, opening a gap into the open waters.
"Hold on!" Romeo yelled.
Giulietta shut her eyes, clutching tightly onto the leather seat.
The car dipped violently, then bounced upward as the front wheels skid onto the last inch of the ramp. The rear wheels caught on the edge, leaving the vehicle at a slight, upward angle. When she opened her eyes, the car deck's roof shone into her.
Giulietta groaned, but they didn't have time to lament. Metal grinded against metal, and the car slid. She wrestled with her seatbelt—the second-long process felt as if it dragged into minutes. When it slithered free, she only remembered falling out the door and onto the ramp.
Moments later, it crashed into the Tyrrhenian Sea. She gasped, flipping around.
Romeo was also prone, grimacing at the loss of his prized car.
"You fucking idiot!" Giulietta leaped on him, pulling Romeo to his feet by his coat. He met her shaking scowl with a toothy smirk. Not a second later, she pressed her lips against his. He reciprocated with equal force.
Romeo waved at the Antonelli soldiers on the dock, watching helplessly. "Alla prossima, sons of bitches!"
Exhaustion finally caught up with her, and Giulietta melted into his arms. His grip was gentle, yet firm. She laughed—perhaps there was a God to this world.
For the Antonellis, the loss already stung. Their princess was in rival hands, now, and going after the ferry crowded with the Agostis would have proved a greater loss. Then when they reached Sicily, who knew what they had in store for Giulietta Antonelli.
That was readily apparent to the man who led the chase. "Nero," one of his enforcers called out. "What are we going to tell Don Valerio?"
He watched the boat leave in silence for the following seconds. And, to everyone's surprise, he chuckled. The chuckle turned into a prideful laugh. Looking at him with a terrifyingly calm smile, Nero cleaned his glasses. "Why, we tell him that I've rescued my dear sister!"
The soldiers shared a confused look.
"Get back in your cars, everyone." Nero opened the door to his. "Giulietta will never see another Agosti again." At that, they drove home.
From the upper deck of the ferry, leaning on the railings, Agent 47 and a few travelers watched the Antonellis disappear into Rome. While they engaged in hushed gossip, 47's earpiece buzzed with Diana's voice.
"Good evening, 47. The Antonelli crime family has requested our services yet again. You're traveling to the heart of Italy for a two-part contract, the first of which has to do with their daughter, Giulietta Antonelli. According to them, the rivaling Agosti mafia sent one of their enforcers to 'manipulate' her into choosing them over the Antonellis. The man in question is your target, Romeo De Falco.
"Romeo is a caporegime among the Agostis. The son of a PTSD-stricken veteran, Romeo found his living on the streets in peace from his hectic household. In his adolescence, he fell in with the thrilling life of the Agosti crime family, and he has been raised into a cunning enforcer.
"Sometime between six to eight months ago, he took a flame to Giulietta Antonelli upon a chance meeting. The two are dangerously inseparable. Today, he plans to whisk Giulietta away in a daring plan that intrudes into the Antonellis' territory—backed by the Agostis, believing Giulietta to be a valuable chess piece. The Antonellis have made it clear that, should Romeo make it to the ferry with Giulietta—which he clearly has—it falls upon us to take care of it.
"Eliminate Romeo De Falco, and retrieve Giulietta Antonelli. Happy hunting, 47."
Location: Tyrrhenian Sea; between Rome and Sicily
Target: The Charmer
VIP: Giulietta Antonelli
"You should get some sleep, principessa." Straightening his coat, Romeo waved off the other mafiosos' aid and helped her up. "You'll want to look sharp when we get to Sicily. The Don is going to have his underboss, Giovanni, meet us. Admittedly, he still hasn't taken a shine to the idea of you."
Giulietta still had her eyes glued on the shore. She couldn't help but wonder what was going through her brother's mind—a brainless sense of duty to their father, or genuine worry for her? But dwelling on her family would do no good; today has already been a nightmare to get through. She smiled at Romeo. "Do I want to know what he's said about me?"
"Only that you'll be the reason the family is destroyed."
She snickered. "That's a lot of power he's giving me. I'm almost flattered."
He smiled. "I did say I'd burn everything down for you."
Someone cleared his throat. They turned to see another Agosti caporegime lead a small squad of mafiosos. The only part of his face they could see was his scowling eyes, sandwiched between a bandana and a fedora.
"Greg!" The two men came together, patting each other's backs.
"We couldn't get this ferry empty thanks to you," he said plainly, quickly putting distance between them. Every time he spoke, his teeth chattered against each other. "There's still some civvies on board, but nothing to worry about." His Bs were silent.
Romeo nodded, his smile suggesting he wasn't worrying, to begin with. He returned his attention to his lover, who watched the others nervously. Except for Romeo, Giulietta had never been around so many Agostis. But, pushing straight past her apprehension, Romeo nudged her ahead. "Everyone, this is Giulietta Antonelli!"
The mafiosos didn't share his enthusiasm.
"Don Valerio's beloved daughter." Gregario stepped forward to her. "Already tired of being pampered and guarded 24/7?"
She scoffed. "I didn't ask for this life. Not everybody wants to be at constant risk of having their face turned into salami." Gregario reached for his bandana instinctively. His gaze immediately flicked to Romeo, who was nervously chuckling.
"Okay, okay, let's all get going." He stepped between them. "For the moment, we have peace. We probably won't have the luxury when we reach the shore."
Gregario left first, and the mafiosos followed after. Romeo sighed, shaking his head at Giulietta half-amused, half-annoyed. "What?" she said. "You said it yourself. Bringing up his scars is the only way to make him shut up."
The couple went on their way, making it to the upper decks. The two went to the railing next to a bald, suited man, watching Rome become a blur. "That is Romeo De Falco. The de facto protector of Giulietta Antonelli beside him, who you are tasked to capture. Whatever you do, they must not reach Sicily. The Agostis' men are waiting at the dock, and there'll certainly be no way to get Giulietta away by that point."
Gregario approached them from behind. "Tomorrow," he said simply. Romeo forced a smile at him, nodding.
"Tomorrow," he confirmed.
Giulietta glanced between them. "Tomorrow what?"
Romeo took in a breath. "We're talking tomorrow. Agosti stuff. You don't need to worry about it." He pecked her cheek, though they both knew she wasn't convinced.
Shortly after, the three left the spot on the deck.
On the wall was a TV blaring with the news. Giulietta had been following the story on the side, only because it was all the media could ever talk about nowadays. "The hacker group known as the TruthSpeakers has released a video to the public condemning their member, Corvus, for his part in the Surtr Leaks. They stated, 'Corvus' actions are not bringing justice. He is sending murderers to homes and families for brutal rapes and killings. The TruthSpeakers fight with words, not violence. He is a disgrace to our ideals.'"
"America's falling apart—so nothing new," Romeo remarked, getting a laugh out of her.
Once they were out of earshot, Agent 47 left his place at the railing. His suspicions about Gregario were confirmed. When he and his men first boarded, 47 had noticed Gregario's attention shift on his phone. A lucky peek told him it was Romeo he was contacting, but that was all he learned. Whatever they wanted to meet for tomorrow, was crucial.
47 went inside the ferry, where its café seated a small number of people. Some were the regular passengers, iffy that they never had a chance to disembark, but less than willing to confront the ones responsible. The rest of the patrons were the perpetrators: the Agosti mafia.
The café was self-serve. Agent 47 helped himself to a coffee, conveniently putting him closer to a pair of chatting mafiosos.
"Have you ever seen what's under that bandana?"
"Not once. Is it as bad as they say?"
"It's a shocker alright. He's the reason Chitter got her name. After she killed the previous Agosti and Antonellis dons, they entered a ceasefire and worked together to track her down. Gregario and a hit squad drove out to kill her. He was the only one to return, and with a new face job. They got the message."
"Cazzo. Poor guy."
"Don't say that. Gregario hates it when you pity him."
Another soldier walked inside, spotting the two. He walked over with a loud, jovial greeting, which they reciprocated.
"So what's going on with Antonio?" the first man asked.
"We got him to the sick bay—guy's got food poisoning. How old was that cannoli you bought?"
"Hey, don't look at me! We all took from the same box."
"Well, whatever he got it from, Gregario's not happy that he has another 'pup' to look after..."
After downing his coffee, 47 left.
Some asking around the crew, and he was pointed in the sick bay's direction. With how few people traveled at night and the relaxed nature of the mafia, he encountered few people on his way there. There was only the singular naval surgeon in the bay, lost in a book. Behind him were a few beds, one of which had its surrounding curtain drawn out.
The surgeon didn't even hear a footstep when an arm locked around his throat. Agent 47 dragged him into the nearby closet.
Antonio was having the worst day of his life. He couldn't get comfortable; not with his abdomen in constant agony. He twisted and turned, breathed and groaned. Then a break in the monotony came in the form of the surgeon through the curtain. "Care for a drink?" he asked, carrying a cup of ice water.
The thought of the cold water filling his mouth brought some mental relief. Antonio nodded slightly, taking the cup and putting it to his lips. He mustered a few sips. "Thank you," he said, putting it on the counter.
He felt relief in an instant. Who would've thought some icy water would do the trick? When he closed his eyes, he felt able to sleep—as though he would pass out at any moment...
Disposing of the drug container, Agent 47 waited a full minute to make sure Antonio was unconscious. Now, all he had to do was wait.
...
"Good talk." The voice was old and wise; thick with accent, but intended to be welcoming. Don Vincenzo Agosti was on the other end of the laptop, facing Romeo and Giulietta in their cabin. Gregario stood to the side, having done his job of facilitating the virtual meeting. "I apologize we met like this. I would have loved to invite you into my office, but Pietro informed me of a security threat, and I do not know if we will ever see each other face-to-face."
Giulietta looked at her lover, and he motioned her to speak. Not even the dashing Romeo could quip against the Don. "Thank you, Don Vincenzo," she began, trying not to let the discomfort show in her tone. "I'm incredibly fortunate to have this opportunity. You know, all I really wanted is a life without criminals breathing down my back..."
"That's a wonderful thing to want. Now don't you ever forget who enabled that to happen." Vincenzo's lips curved into a wry smile. "As long as you remain faithful to your word, I promise that your family will never bother you again."
She should have known better than to think one family was better than the other. "That's... fantastic to hear."
"Great. You should get some rest for tomorrow. Angelo's wife, Lucia, cooks a mean osso buco! You wouldn't want to miss it." He laughed heartily, then left the call. The laptop returned to a black screen.
Giulietta collapsed on their bed. "He wants to use me as a pawn against my family," she spat. She turned to Romeo. "You said the Agostis would keep me safe! That I'd get everything I wanted if I came with you!"
Romeo raised his hands, opening his mouth for words that didn't come. He exchanged a look with Gregario, whose gaze shifted in annoyance. He knew exactly what Romeo intended to do. "I... I know what I'm doing, principessa." He took her hand. "Please, just trust me."
Giulietta scoffed, shaking her hand free.
"So you haven't told her about the money, yet?" Gregario interjected, packing his laptop. Ignoring their stunned reactions, he headed for the door. "If you're going to turn your back on the family, at least sort things out with your girl."
Emotions descended on the cabin, and Gregario wasn't going to stay for the drama. He hoped that Romeo at least put some thought into this plan of his, but he was merely winging it. He could already see their future: trying to escape both of the mafia families, then running into a wall for a bitter end to catch up.
He couldn't understand the point of it all.
Gregario passed the mafioso patrols, who stepped out of his way. All the main chores were done, and after checking up on Antonio one last time, he was in for a break—likely to be used for a nap.
Everything quieted as he entered the sick bay. The naval surgeon was at his desk, reading his book just like last time. Gregario knocked on the wall. "I'm here for Antonio."
The surgeon nodded. "He's still in bed. Feel free to talk to him."
He headed to the cubicle, entering the curtain. At the sight of Antonio's sleeping body, he sighed. Gregario snapped beside his ear, trying again and again.
The curtain flipped behind him. A searing pain dug into his neck, and a hand strapped over his mouth. Gregario lurched back, but another's body put his weight over him. He sunk onto the bed, planting his face into Antonio's thigh and muffling his yells. Gregario thrashed and reached behind him, tugging at his attacker's clothes. A burning liquid forced through his neck.
The syringe was emptied. Gregario's punches grew weaker. Half a minute later, he was out cold.
Agent 47 laid him on the floor and began taking his clothes. Upon removing the bandana, he paused momentarily. A ring of scarring surrounded his mouth, carved by a rigid blade. His lips were misshapen; unsymmetrical and never touched each other. Their flesh was smooth and glossy, as though his body tried desperately to heal, but could only repair so much of his lips. Every inch that 47 moved him, his teeth hit each other, creating a constant chitter. Also on him was his phone and a cabin key marked with a crab emblem.
Donning his outfit, 47 practiced a few lines keeping his lips apart. He made sure to mimic Gregario's chittering between each word, adjusting the strength behind each bite until he was satisfied.
He returned on deck, passing a couple of mafiosos having a smoke. Upon seeing 'Gregario,' they plucked the cigarettes from their mouths and straightened themselves in an attempt to look ready. When he simply walked by, they continued relaxing into the night.
47 went to the starboard side, toward the bow. He passed a lifeboat, recalling several of them present on each side of the ferry. He stopped at the anchor, looking across the sea. It was open; there were a handful of people hanging out, not to mention the patrolling mafiosos at each side.
Agent 47 found a flight of stairs up, leading the few guest cabins on board the ferry. Some mafia soldiers stood guard against the walls, having resorted to playing cards with each other while waiting. "Did you hear about the whole upheaval with the Robinson Brothers?" one asked his friend.
"Yeah, and I overheard Don Vincenzo talking with his son in England. I think they're gonna try and make a deal with the new Serpentines."
"Oh, an alliance is a done deal. The person who took over that gang is Angelo's mistress!"
He breathed in through gritted teeth. "Wow... I guess this means he's missing Lucia's dinner tomorrow. Angelo's such a—"
His friend hit his arm, and they both perked up to 'Gregario.' They shot up at attention, folding the cards. "Did you need something?"
"Is Romeo still in his cabin?"
They glanced at the door across the hall. "Yeah. And I gotta say, there was a lot of muffled shouting from there."
"It's the Antonelli," his partner said. "I doubt she even loves him with how she is. This is all some sick set-up, I just know it."
"I don't hear any shouting," 47 said.
He shrugged. "They stopped a while ago. Sounds like they're asleep."
Agent 47 grunted in acknowledgment. He turned away, finding Gregario's cabin right beside Romeo's. Key in hand, he entered the room and was finally alone.
It was a homely cabin, made to replicate a hotel apartment room. Everything was mostly untouched, save for a few craters in the bed where Gregario sat. He searched many of the storage places but found nothing useful. On the bedside table, though, was a letter.
Holding it to the bodycam, Diana soon spoke. "An unsent letter addressed to Giovanni Guerra, the Agostis' underboss. It seems this was written in anticipation of Romeo's supposed desertion. Gregario's source in the local bank informed him of a suspicious sum of money saved under one of Romeo's aliases. He believed that Romeo planned to flee the country with Giulietta in tow, and his calls with Romeo have confirmed this to be the case."
That must have been what tomorrow's meeting was about.
47 pulled out Gregario's phone and scrolled through his contacts. He stopped at one and dialed.
Romeo finally felt himself nodding to sleep when his phone blared. Groaning, he forced himself up (although putting the care not to wake Giulietta). He answered the call with a groggy "Yes?"
"It's me. We need to have the conversation now."
Romeo put the phone down. He slid off the bed, walking quietly around the cabin as he came close to punching several objects. Mumbling, he came to the frustrated realization that he wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon. He picked the phone up again. "So what changed? Last time I checked, we were happy with discussing this tomorrow."
"Not anymore. I have reason to believe you intend to flee tonight."
He nearly scratched his face off. "That's ridiculous!"
"If you don't agree, I will tell Giovanni about your savings when this boat docks."
Romeo took a deep breath. So much for a chance to relax. "Fine."
"Meet me at the bow. Near the anchor."
The call ended, and Romeo had to get dressed again.
"Trouble?" The nonchalant voice had him turn around. Giulietta had awoken at some point—probably from the obnoxious ringtone. She sat up, and despite the darkness, he felt her eyes digging into him.
Romeo chuckled, resigned. "Nothing gets past you, principessa. It's Greg. We agreed to meet tomorrow to talk about my plan to get us out, but now he wants to discuss it... well, now. And somehow, he's gotten this idea that I'm pulling it off as soon as we hit the shore."
Giulietta felt her heart sink. It sounded like he and Gregario were on good terms; up until she came into the mix. Then again, this was all his choice. If anyone could wiggle out of any tough spot, it was Romeo. "So what're you going to do?"
Romeo shrugged. "I'll be honest with him. Talk from my heart. Besides, the worst he can do is throw me overboard."
She snickered. He turned the lights back on, finding his attire again. Romeo finished it off by twisting his fedora on to hide his ruffled hair. It wasn't long before he was the dashing Prince Charming she came to adore. "I love you," she said.
Hand on the doorknob, he gave her one last look before he left. "I love you, too."
It was quiet again, and she was alone. Giulietta tried to sleep again, but it felt colder.
...
While the mafia patrols were distant, Agent 47 released a lifeboat. It hit the water with a shattering splash, and he disappeared inside the ferry. In seconds, people were already clamoring at the scene.
Making sure the bandana was still secure, he traveled to the meeting point. Sure enough, he spotted Romeo on his way, fighting against the night cold as his breath became frosty. 47 intersected him, and he was acknowledged with a sharp glare. The two kept walking along the starboard.
Romeo wore a hastily thrown-together pinstripe suit, complimented by the nonchalant way he held himself. He reeked of cologne and tobacco—in fact, he was smoking a Lambros cigarette right now. Nestled over his head was the same fedora, just barely hiding his hair.
One of the mafia patrols hurried past them. "Come on, the lifeboat is over the port side, just drifting away."
"Who do you think is in it? A deserter?"
"Hey, hey." Romeo stopped one by his shoulder. "What's this about a lifeboat?"
"Someone set it loose," the first man said, "and now it's drifting away. We think it could be a deserter."
Romeo's face paled at the word.
"They have it handled," 'Gregario' said. "Keep following me."
Soon, they stopped beside the anchor winch. Only the frigid winds and crashing waves in the darkness met their ears. "Now then," 47 began, "you seemed frightened at the thought of desertion." When he turned, 47's gaze lingered on the upper decks far behind Romeo. Although the patrols were distracted by the lifeboat, a few tourists lingered on the very top, looking out at the ocean.
"Is this what our whole lives are meant to be?" Romeo stuffed his hands in his pockets. "There are normal, loving families out there living the best lives they can. How do you feel when you look at them, knowing the life we have?"
One passenger was at the railing above, facing in their general direction. "You're not the one talking." Romeo raised a brow at that. "Those are Giulietta's thoughts."
A moment of quiet befell them. Romeo's eyes fell to the floor, though his grim expression formed a smile. "Yeah..." He nodded. "I suppose they are."
"I can understand wanting a different life. I've tried a few times, myself. But aren't you being too hasty?"
"Look, Greg, I have no fucking idea what makes you think I was gonna pull this off tonight. Not when Giovanni and the rest of the damn family are gonna be at the dock. What am I gonna do, swim me and Giulietta to Sapienza?"
"You have the money. You could easily have hired someone to boat you two out of the ferry."
"But that's obviously not what happened, is it?" Romeo sighed. "I don't get what kind of information your sources got you, but they're dead wrong! I... I don't know when I was gonna try and flee. But I wanted to do something..."
47 glanced up. The person at the rail still hadn't moved.
"Have you ever had that one person you'd do anything for? Even if it meant fighting against what built up your entire life?"
"You're not making a good case for yourself."
Romeo couldn't help but laugh. "I'm not. But have you, Greg?"
"I guess so."
"Then you know that that love is going to stop you from doing something as stupid as trying to escape under the entire Agostis' noses."
Someone came up to the person on the railing, and they started talking. "Maybe you're right. It was premature of me to call this meeting."
"Now we're getting somewhere. Come here, Greg, give me a hug." Romeo extended his arms... though 'Gregario' didn't budge. His smile became awkward. "Or... not?"
The people at the railing walked away.
"Alright." 47 closed in on Romeo—and struck his throat, sending a glob of spit out of a retch. He hammered the back of his head with a fist, bringing Romeo to the ground. He dragged him to the winch.
Romeo swatted at 'Gregario's' face wildly. He scratched the bandana down and his eyes widened.
He swung his arm at 47, who bent his head away. Agent 47 kicked his head against the railing. Romeo sank to the floor and groaned, helplessly watching his attacker kneel. 47 tied Romeo's foot to the anchor's chain with a zip tie. Before rising, he snatched the phone from his pocket.
"No... please," he croaked. Romeo reached out, but 47's hands were already on the release mechanism.
In one second, Romeo was on deck. In the next, a biting cold nipped his body. Dark blue clouded his vision, and he suddenly lost all of his breath. Water ran past his arms and fingers, which trailed above him. One look up, and he saw the ferry's lights disappear under the sea's ripples.
The last of his air escaped. Water flooded into his mouth; and up his nostrils. Romeo thought about how he'd apologize to Giulietta when they met again.
"Target down," Diana said. "Now to retrieve Giulietta Antonelli."
Wrapping the bandana back on, Agent 47 looked around. The mafiosos returned, glossing past 'Gregario' and returning to their patrols. One of them even ran over to him, asking what to do concerning the stranded lifeboat.
47 thought for a second. They were approaching Sicily where a whole entourage of the Agosti mafia was waiting. If he wanted to get Giulietta off the boat, he had an idea. "Tell the captain to perform a role call. Round up our boys, too."
He nodded and left. Once alone, Agent 47 fully detached the anchor, and the last of its chain disappeared under the sea as well. If they pulled the anchor back up, there was a chance it would bring Romeo with it.
At the helm, the old captain radioed for the imminent role call. As unnecessary as he found it, there was no world where refusing the mafia was an option. He could have discerned the mystery behind the lifeboat through much simpler means. Having sent his first mates to organize the role call, it was just him at the wheel.
The silence was unnerving. That, and the stress from hoarding a host of mafia on his ship, warranted a smoke.
It was open sea for the next 30 minutes. The ferry could go on fine. The captain stepped outside for a short break.
As soon as he did so, Agent 47 slipped in from the other side. Keeping himself low, he went to the main controls and located the radio. He changed the channel to the emergency line.
"Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is The Sun Chariot, Sun Chariot, Sun Chariot." He read out the latitude and longitude. "I suspect there is a kidnapping victim on board my vessel. The perpetrators are armed and dangerous. Requesting immediate help..."
The Italian Coast Guard got back to him.
...
Giulietta's phone vibrated. She rose from the bed, happy to do something other than toss and turn for the next hour. She blinked a few times until her groggy eyes adjusted to the blue light.
It was a message from Romeo. "Meet me in the car deck," it read.
Just what did he have in mind, now? This was either a good or bad result from Gregario's meeting. Regardless, she'd never refuse a chance to get close to Romeo. A smile found itself on her face as he flicked the lights on, finding some clothes to wear.
Upon leaving the cabin, she realized the mafiosos were gone. She thought it strange; maybe they went to sleep for the rest of the trip. Either way, she didn't pay too much heed to it.
Besides, she found her answer on the main deck where seemingly everybody was gathered. Some of the higher-rank mafiosos were checking each member for their presence. On a different deck, the ferry crew was also performing a role call. She learned about the loose lifeboat, thought it strange, and then went on her way.
She made it to the car deck, where it was immediately clear where her lover was. Though the lights were off, his silhouette was clear as day. At the edge of the boat, protected by railings from the open sea, he stood staring into the night. Cigarette smoke lifted into the air. and she could even make out the creases in his suit. She made her way over.
"Hey," she began a few feet away from him. "I'm sorry. For getting upset at you earlier. I was just... overwhelmed. We're crossing every bridge as soon as we get there, and that was scaring me."
He blew out a puff of smoke.
She walked closer. "My father always does things by his own book and with a plan. If he doesn't know what to expect when diving into something, he never takes it. That's the kind of life he had planned for me, and it's the one I'm used to."
'Romeo' turned his head to the right, away from her. She frowned. "I'm guessing the talk with Gregario didn't go well." Giulietta was beside him, now, her focus placed on the crashing waves lit only by the moon. "Romeo... no matter what happens... I will be there with you." She placed a hand over his on the railing. "You've changed my life. I..."
She sniffed the air. Did his cologne wear off, already?
The hand slid out from under her. By the time Giulietta saw the shine of his bald head under the fedora, Agent 47 struck her solar plexus. All the air flew out of her lungs, keeling her over with a pained gasp. He yanked her arm up and dipped her.
From behind, it looked as though they were locked in a romantic kiss. Up close, he plunged the sedative syringe into her neck as her hands planted against 47, unable to push against him at all. The stance was a precaution in case anybody had the fancy idea of peeking inside, but nobody came in. Giulietta stopped moving.
47 laid her down gently. He ran to the nearest car, picking the lock to its trunk. It snapped open, revealing a few bags of the usual paraphernalia. He picked Giulietta up, placing her inside the vehicle. He slammed it shut.
At the same time, a commotion broke out on the upper deck. Outside of the car deck, Agent 47 caught a glimpse of another vessel approaching with blinding lights. On its side was a wide red and thin green strip. The words Guardia Costiera were printed on its side.
"Sun Chariot, this is the Italian Coast Guard!" Their loudspeaker boomed across the waters. "Stop the vessel—we are going to board!"
"Captain!" one mafioso shouted up at the helm. "What is the meaning of this?!"
"I have no idea!" The old captain looked out in horror. Cursing under his breath, he manned the radio with the Coast Guard. "This is the Sun Chariot. We are currently in the middle of transporting dozens of passengers to shore!"
"I understand, Sun Chariot. We will search your ship as fast and efficiently as possible."
"But what for?"
"The kidnapping suspect and the victim," he said flatly. "Do you have physical descriptions for either?"
The Captain's mouth hung ajar. "No... I don't."
"Understood. Inform your passengers to remain in their cabins and seats. Our Guardsmen are on their way."
"Roger that." The Captain wasn't loyal to the mafia by any means; all this was extra pay. But like hell he was gonna stick up against the Coast Guard for them. He left the radio for the intercom, informing the passengers of the situation.
The Sun Chariot came to a steady stop. Two dinghies came from the Coast Guard's ship, carrying a dozen men in total. They boarded the ferry, swiftly heading up the decks. They immediately recognized the uniformly dressed Agosti mafia, though none of the personnel let it show on their faces.
A few headed to the helm to meet the captain. Several others began the arduous process of searching the ferry. At every turn, an Agosti was present, staring blankly at the Guardsmen—like a mischievous student playing up his good side to the teacher.
Other than the fact that a whole force of the mafia was present, there was no proof of any wrongdoing besides the Captain's call. A pair of them entered the café, finding the same old nothing. One put his radio up. "What has the Captain said?"
"No dice. He claims he never sent a distress call to begin with."
"So no physical descriptions? No incident leading up to the call?"
"If there was, he's not budging."
"Roger that." He slipped the radio away, and the pair entered the kitchen. Once again, nothing. The first man sighed. "Damn it... Nothing except those mafia pigs. And they don't just get together for a random trip across Italy."
"I heard the Captain's mayday loud and clear," his partner said. "I'm with you on that, but nothing's nailed the Agostis for decades. If something's going down, and the Captain doesn't talk, I don't see us knowing about it anytime soon."
Just then, the radio came to life. "Calling in a 10-53; three of them; sick bay. Requesting first aid!"
They shared a glance at each other, then ran. One left the café before the other. Before the last Guardsmen came out, a metallic bang echoing across the room stopped him in his tracks. He looked back at the kitchen, where the door to the freezer room was swinging open. "I'll catch up with you," he said to his partner over the radio.
He went back to investigate the noise.
A couple of minutes later, he emerged, adjusting his uniform. The hat fit nicely over his bald head.
Agent 47 headed right for the car deck. The radio buzzed as information spread to the Coast Guard ship. There was a notable shift in the present Guardsmen as they moved faster and shouted orders.
Only a couple of them lingered in the car deck, getting ready to join the commotion on the upper floors. 47 ran in the corners of their eyes, finding the specific car. The trunk clicked open. "Calling in a 10-53; car deck; orange Cadillac. Woman in her 20s to 30s; still breathing."
The others in the deck turned to the car to see one of their own and the woman in its open trunk. Agent 47 lifted her out, placing her on the floor when the others arrived. "I heard a weak knocking coming from inside," he said.
"Good job," one said, checking her health. He talked to his radio. "Requesting more Guardsman to board. We've located the kidnapping victim and three other unconscious victims!"
More people ran down the steps, finding Giulietta and joining the circle. A plan was made to secure the ferry and the dock to process everyone for questioning. In the meantime, the four victims required immediate attention. They would be brought to the Coast Guard's vessel, then to Sicily and the nearest hospital.
Nobody noticed the bald Guardsman disappear.
"I know what I saw! That was Giulietta Antonelli!" one mafioso shouted in a whisper.
"How the hell did she end up there? She was fast asleep in her cabin!"
"I don't know—I don't fucking know anymore. Where the hell's Gregario? This shit's for him to deal with!"
"Come to think of it, I haven't seen him in a while..."
Someone hushed them when another squad of Guardsmen climbed on board. They were armed and ready. The Captain informed everyone of the events. What was once a calm and simple operation now had the Agostis threatened. All they could do was sit and watch their to-be pawn get taken away, and wonder where their caporegimes had gone.
A small squad of Guardsmen placed the injured on dinghies to be taken to their vessel. It was a lengthy process but went without issue. A bald sailor elected to watch over the victims.
The rest of the boat ride was uneventful.
The vessel docked at a different wharf, and they were the first ones out. Ambulances were waiting for each of them. Giulietta was put into one, and the Guardsman joined her, an ER surgeon, and the driver. The vehicle's siren began, and they drove to the road.
"Expertly done, 47," Diana said. "I've marked the drop-off point on your map..."
Giulietta awoke to nausea. She groaned, shielding her eyes from the blinding lights. She reached out to Romeo's side of the bed but was met with cold concrete. She squinted through the light. A familiar vehicle drew her attention to the right: an open ambulance. Inside were two unconscious surgeons.
"Rise and shine, principessa."
Giulietta forced herself to sit up, wincing against the implosions setting off in her head and stomach. "Romeo?" Her vision was still blurry. A man kneeled before her with a force of soldiers distanced behind him.
He chuckled, and she instantly realized who this was. "I hope you enjoyed your trip. There must have been lots to view in the Tyrrhenian Sea! Things like water, water, oh, and more water!" Nero Antonelli pulled her to her feet, ignoring her excruciating yelps.
She almost fell again, seeing the world spin around her. "How... Romeo?"
"What about that manipulative bastard?"
She looked at her brother with a pleading look. "Where is he?"
Nero smiled. "Come on, Giulietta. Our father missed you." He motioned with his hand, and two thugs grabbed her arms.
"Nero!" she screeched. "Where is he?! Please!" She yelled and cried Nero's name, but there was only the frigid air to answer.
POSSIBLE MAFIA DISTURBANCE ON ITALIAN FERRY
According to an anonymous source, an altercation occurred between the crime family, the Agostis, and the Italian Coast Guard on board a ferry called the Sun Chariot. The witness, who will be going by K, explains how their ride was mysteriously hijacked by a massive group of mafia members late at night.
"We didn't even get a chance to depart," she says. "We docked, a car sped inside with an entire motorcade chasing it, and we left... I think everybody knew what we were in for, but we couldn't say or do anything."
K describes the situation as terrifying. Mafiosos lurked at every corner, effectively taking over the boat. Later in the ride, K claims that the Coast Guard stopped the ferry and boarded. "They found something that made them antsy and act against the mafia." K would later discover that they found what looked like "dead bodies."
She witnessed the Coast Guard carry four bodies out to their vessel: three men and a woman. The Coast Guard's vessel sped to shore while the Guardsmen on board took over. When they docked, K says they kept everyone for hours, asking many questions about the events. She and the other passengers were released before the sun rose.
When tomorrow came, she expected there to be something on the news, but K was shocked to find it was as though nothing had happened. There was nothing about the mafia, or the Coast Guard encountering trouble. After a couple more days of seeing nothing, she reached out to us with the story.
When we questioned the Italian Coast Guard, it was claimed that this event never happened. They have yet to answer any of our next inquiries...
"FATHER LIFE" UNDER FIRE FOR EXPERIMENTAL TREATMENT PROGRAM
Abu Hayat, more famously known as Father Life, is in hot water for his offer of free therapy sessions with Egyptian refugees coming from the political turmoil in their country. After Hasani Ini-herit's unofficial rise to power, a surge of violence rippled through Egypt. Spurred by his condemnations of the high class (amid conspiracy theories of Russian involvement), the people have taken justice into their own hands—at the expense of other civilians.
Abu, who fled Egypt a day after Haddad's murder, expressed sympathy for others in his situation. He subsequently proposed an offer to the public, which has now come under scrutiny. Families of those who have visited Abu claim that their loved ones have "dramatically changed." They become erratic; paranoid and quiet. They lose interest in things that they love, among other conditions. None of them recall what happened during their visit with Abu.
Amid these allegations, he attended the Tonight Show With Levi Terell for an episode that added fuel to the fire. Abu confessed that he was trying a "new form of treatment" for "faster and better results." While he never explicitly stated what this new treatment option was, this has led to heavy speculation about his potentially unethical methods...
TRUTHSPEAKERS DOXXED AND KILLED
Following the TruthSpeakers' message where they condemned Corvus and his actions, he subsequently revealed the personal information of the prominent members on online forums. These are only a few of many that have surfaced in the aftermath of the Surtr Leaks, which revealed classified government documents and revealed that President Rogers may have been irresponsibly involved in the lost Gold Codes.
Among the hundreds of reports flying in, we have picked out several incidents that correlate with the TruthSpeakers' addresses Corvus shared. The properties have all been firebombed, raided by armed robbers, or attacked with homemade explosives. All of these houses' occupants were found dead.
In a recent broadcast alluding to his former affiliation, Corvus has declared himself and his loyalists to be "the uncorrupted TruthSpeakers." The remainder of his message is mainly addressed to his followers, praising them for their work against the upper class and "bringing justice where it is rarely served."
Corvus also applauded the attack in New York City, where 17 police workers were killed in an explosion in their headquarters...
Heliopolis Palace, Cairo, Egypt
Hasani never wanted this.
How foolish he was, taking his carpet-selling job for granted. How stupid he was for wanting more.
He didn't deserve to sit in this chair or have these people at his beck and call. Hasani prayed. Prayed for guidance.
"Having second thoughts?" Hasani scrambled up, spotting Xenia at the door. "Nobody is forcing you to do this. You have enough money to disappear and live the life you deserve."
"Are you crazy?" he spat. "If I do that, this country is going to fall completely! And have you heard Ashraf's ideas for Egypt?" Xenia's laugh let her know that she had. She was the one who convinced Morcos' son to execute this coup, after all. Ashraf was going to bring Egypt to its knees in seconds if he ever took his father's place.
Hasani sighed. "What are you here for?"
"We found someone who we believe knows where your mother is. We need you to decide how we go about this."
He lifted his head. His mother; the one thing that convinced him to accept Surtr's offer. She disappeared after her family crashed in the plane. "Like how?"
"Follow me. She's in the lobby."
Xenia turned and left, and Hasani scurried up to follow.
Stains from the bloodbath that killed Seif Morcos were still present. A smudge of red there. A dent in the marble column left by a bullet. One of many Persian carpets that lined the hall, left with a minute scent of iron combined with the detergent of a dozen washings.
"Her name is Sagira Naifeh. She was close friends with the Vaziris—including your mother. We found her trying to stowaway on one of the refugee flights to America."
"I still don't understand what you want me to do."
Xenia led him to the lobby, where many turncoat soldiers stood over a red-faced woman hugging her two children. "You're going to say what you want and do things your way. These soldiers will be here if you need them to do their thing."
Hasani blanched. "You took her kids, too?"
"And leave them on their own?"
He sighed, then stepped forward. "Leave us," he said to the soldiers. Sagira glared daggers into Hasani, who put on a warm smile. He moved slowly, as though approaching a wounded animal. Quietly, he knelt. "Sagira?"
She blinked. He glanced back, making sure the soldiers and Xenia were far enough away.
"I'm so sorry... None of this is what I wanted."
Sagira scoffed. "I can believe that; the way you called to the world for our deaths screamed regretful."
I didn't have a choice, is what he wanted to say, but he knew that wasn't true. Hasani took a breath, at a loss. He reached out to her. "I only wanted to—"
She grabbed her two boys, flinching away with a quivering puff.
Hasani pulled his hand back. "Sorry," he said meekly. "I know what I said. But I'm not going to let those guys hurt you, please. I want to help."
"Are you lying?" The voice came from behind Sagira as her youngest son walked out, but still stayed behind his mother.
Hasani mustered a smile. "I swear by Allah."
"Don't look at him!" Sagira stepped between them, flushed with newfound rage. "I've seen what your people did to Haddad and his family! I will never let you hurt my child!" Her voice echoed down the hall, and the children burst into tears.
"How many times do I have to repeat myself!" Hasani rose to his feet, baffled. "I'm trying to save your lives!"
"Liar!" she screeched, and brandished a dagger from her sleeve.
Hasani backed away, putting his hands over his face in anticipation of the worst. Instead, a scuffle broke out. Two of the soldiers ran in, subduing Sagira and bringing her to the ground.
Hasani stumbled back, collapsing on his bottom. He patted his chest as if thinking that she had reached him. The children's wailing sobs filled the air. "You besmirch Allah's name, Hasani!" she cried. "Your mother would be ashamed if she knew what you became!"
The soldiers took her away, and a few others grabbed her children
Hasani remained on the floor, tracing the tiles with a finger. "I'm not a liar... why didn't you trust me?" The last phrase replayed itself again and again. It was a mystery. "I've never had an ill intent in my life... Doesn't that count for something?"
Xenia knew the answer. "From my perspective, it has." She helped Hasani up, dusting his suit off. "It brought you here, Hasani, to exact justice. You're a good person, but the wealthy would rather die than accept help from a dirty carpet seller." Something glinted in his eyes. "This is the grave they dug. Let them bury themselves." At that, she left Hasani to breathe.
A soldier came up to him. "Your orders, sir?"
Hasani stared at the ceiling, rubbing his face for a few seconds. When he met the soldier's gaze, his was hardened; blank. "Get the info out of her. Do what you have to."