Chapter 19 Parley in the Pines.

Chapter 19 Parley in the Pines.
Aria’s POV.

We exploded from cover. I went low with the club, swinging at the legs of Isabella's guard. He went down with a surprised grunt and I was on him before he could recover, bringing the club down on his head with all my strength.

The crack was sickening. He stopped moving. Isabella screamed, trying to run, but Enzo caught her by the hair, yanking her back. His hand clamped over her mouth while cutting off her cries.

"Aria, take his weapon!"

I grabbed the fallen guard's gun, a sleek automatic and still warm from his body heat. My hands moved on instinct, checking the clip and chambering a round. Where had I learned this? I didn't know and didn't care. Survival had taught me.

Shouts erupted behind us. The other guards had heard the commotion and were moving in our direction.

"Run!" Enzo hauled Isabella toward the barn and I followed, firing blindly behind us to slow pursuit.

Bullets whipped past, too close. I heard someone scream, Isabella or me; I couldn't tell. Then we were in the barn, Marco and Lucia already there, weapons raised.

"Bar the door!" Enzo shoved Isabella to the ground and Marco immediately started piling hay bales against the entrance.

"They'll flank us," Lucia warned, moving to cover a side entrance.

"Let them try." Enzo grabbed Isabella, hauling her up by her expensive coat. "You're going to tell us everything. Starting with why you murdered a plane full of innocent people."

"I didn't..." Isabella's protest died as Enzo's hand closed around her throat.

"Don't lie. The sabotage was professional and well-planned. Someone had to provide access, timing and everything. Was it you or Luca?"

"Both," she gasped. "It was both of us. He wanted you dead and wanted your whole organization disrupted. The plane crash would look like an accident, giving him time to consolidate power while everyone was dealing with the investigation."

"And my mother?" My voice came out deadly quiet. "What does she have to do with this?"

Isabella's eyes widened. "I don't know what you're talking about..." I pressed the gun to her temple. "The ring, my mother's ring and the photo of her in Rome. Start talking, or I'll paint this barn with your brains."

"She's alive!" Isabella blurted. "Okay, yes, your mother is alive. She's been alive this whole time, in hiding, while working with Luca against your father."

The confirmation hit like a physical blow, even though I'd suspected. "Why?"

"Because your father was going to kill her. Kill you both. She faked her death to protect herself and made a deal with Luca: she'd help him take down the De Luca empire if he kept her safe."

"And you're the messenger," Enzo said. "Running between them all, playing both sides."

"I was promised power," Isabella said desperately. "When Luca takes over, I am supposed to..."

Gunfire erupted outside, cutting her off. Wood splintered as bullets tore through the barn walls.

"Down!" Enzo threw us all to the floor as the attack intensified.

Through the gaps in the walls, I could see muzzle flashes. Luca's men had us surrounded and they were laying down suppressing fire while they moved into position.

"We're pinned," Marco reported. "Four, maybe five shooters. Professional spacing and coordinated fire."

"The back wall," Lucia said. "It's old, rotted. We might be able to break through."

"Do it." Enzo turned to me. "Cover them." I moved to a gap in the wall, firing controlled bursts at the muzzle flashes. The gun kicked against my palm and hot brass casings were raining at my feet. I wasn't aiming to kill, just to keep their heads down while Lucia and Marco worked.

A shape moved in my peripheral vision, one of Luca's men, trying to flank us through a side door. He raised his weapon and time slowed.

I pivoted, firing. Two shots and center mass. He dropped. Second kill, easier than the first. I was becoming what this world required: a killer, cold and efficient.

"Through!" Lucia called. "The wall's open!" We scrambled through the breach, emerging into a field behind the barn. Enzo still had Isabella by the arm and was dragging her along.

"The tree line," he pointed to a dark mass of forest maybe fifty meters away. "If we make it there, we have a chance."

We ran, Isabella stumbling in her expensive heels. Behind us, shouts as Luca's men discovered our escape.

More gunfire, but closer this time. Marco grunted and stumbled. I saw blood spreading across his shoulder.

"Keep moving!" Enzo ordered. We crashed into the forest, branches whipping at our faces and roots trying to trip us. I could hear pursuit behind us, professional, organized and closing the distance.

"Here," Lucia pointed to a depression in the ground, partially hidden by underbrush. "Defensive position."

We dropped into it, weapons ready. Marco was pale, clutching his wounded shoulder, but his gun was steady.

"How bad?" Enzo asked him.

"Through and through. I'll live." Marco checked his clip. "Got maybe fifteen rounds left."

"I've got twenty," Lucia reported. "Eighteen," I said, surprised by how calm I sounded. Enzo nodded. "Then we make them count. They want a firefight; we give them one they'll remember."

The forest had gone quiet and too quiet. Luca's men were out there, moving into position and we were trapped in this depression with limited ammunition and an injured man.

"This was planned," I said suddenly. "Not just the plane crash, but all of it. The sabotage was too perfect and the response too coordinated." Enzo looked at me and I saw confirmation in his eyes. "You knew," I breathed. "You knew the plane was rigged."

"I suspected." His voice was hard. "Too many coincidences, Isabella's hasty departure, the Paris connection and the timing. So I let it play out."

"You let us get on a sabotaged plane?" Fury exploded through me.

"I needed to flush out the traitors in my organization," he said coldly. "Everyone who helped Luca set this up and everyone on his payroll. They all showed their hand tonight: the contact in Rome who was supposed to warn us but got killed instead, the ground crew who ignored the device on the plane and Isabella running straight to Luca's extraction team."

"You used us as bait!" I wanted to hit him, shoot him, or do something to him.

"I used myself as bait," he corrected. "You and the others were calculated risks and it worked. Now I know exactly who I can't trust, which is everyone except the people in this hole right now."

"You're insane," I said. "I'm thorough." He turned back to monitoring the forest. "And I'm going to win because I'm willing to do what Luca won't: risk everything for the end game."

Movement in the trees: three figures advancing carefully. Enzo raised his hand, signaling us to wait. They came closer and closer. Almost on top of us.

"Now!" Enzo opened fire and we all joined in. The firefight was brief but brutal. Two of Luca's men dropped immediately. The third retreated, firing wildly.

But the damage was done and our position was compromised. They knew exactly where we were. "We need to move again," Lucia said. "Before they bring up reinforcements."

"No." Enzo grabbed Isabella, hauling her up. "We're done running. It's time to finish this."

He dragged her out of the depression, using her as a shield and shouted into the forest in Italian. I caught enough to understand that he was calling for parley and offering to trade Isabella for safe passage.

For a long moment, nothing. Then a voice answered from the darkness, cultured and cold.

"Moretti. I should have known you were too stubborn to die in a simple plane crash."

Wow... Luca. He was here personally. "We need to talk," Enzo called back. "Unless you want your messenger dead before she can tell you everything she's learned."

Another pause, then Luca emerged from the tree line, flanked by four armed men. He was tall and elegant-looking in an expensive suit, somehow unmarred by the forest, with the kind of face that would look trustworthy right up until he slit your throat.

"A parley then," Luca said, smiling like this was all a pleasant social call. "You, me and the girl who's caused all this trouble." His eyes found me, and I felt their weight like ice down my spine. "Hello, Aria. Your mother sends her regards."

The forest seemed to hold its breath. Two groups of killers, face to face, with nothing but twenty meters of French woodland between them and all-out war.

"Shall we talk about Paris?" Luca continued. "About what's waiting there for you? Or should we discuss the more pressing matter of who gets to walk out of these woods alive?"

Enzo's hand tightened on Isabella's throat. "You want to negotiate? Fine. But first, you're going to tell me exactly what you've done with Aria's mother and then we're going to discuss the terms of your surrender."

Luca laughed, a sound like breaking glass. "Surrender? My dear Moretti, I'm not here to surrender. I'm here to make you an offer you'll find very difficult to refuse."

He gestured and one of his men brought forward a tablet, showing us the screen. On it was a video feed, live and based on the timestamp.

My blood froze. It showed a woman in a chair, hands bound and a bag over her head. But I could see enough: the familiar posture and the ring on her finger.

My mother. "So," Luca said pleasantly. "Shall we discuss terms? Your surrender in exchange for her life? Or shall we see how well she burns?"
And I realized we'd been outplayed from the start.