Chapter 4 - The Locker at Termini
Alessio did not move.
Neither did Sophia.
The laser dot rested over his heart.
“Let her go,” the unseen man said.
Sophia recognized the voice.
Marco Cardone.
“Walk away, Marco,” Alessio replied.
“You know I can't.”
A second laser appeared.
Then a third.
Sophia's fear sharpened into clarity.
They were surrounded.
Marco stepped into the faint emergency light.
He carried no visible weapon.
He didn't need one.
“Give me the key.”
Sophia held it tighter.
“You have my father.”
Marco smiled.
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I said he was alive.”
“Where?”
“Give me the key.”
Alessio spoke without looking at her.
“Don't.”
Marco sighed.
“This is why Thomas never fully trusted you, Alessio. You make everything territorial.”
“Thomas trusted me enough to contact me.”
“He trusted you to be predictable.”
Marco looked at Sophia.
“Your father knew exactly what Alessio would do once you were threatened.”
“And what is that?”
“Turn Rome upside down.”
Marco smiled.
“Which gives Thomas room to move unseen.”
Sophia's pulse jumped.
“You know where he is.”
“No.”
“You're lying.”
“I know what he's trying to do.”
“What?”
“Finish what he started nine years ago.”
The emergency lights brightened.
Sophia could see Dr. Vale slumped beside the bathroom wall.
One of Alessio's guards remained unconscious.
The second was out of sight.
Marco's men had planned this well.
“Why did you take my journal?” Sophia asked.
“To find the key.”
“But you didn't.”
“No.”
“So you cut out the pages.”
“Those pages contained directions.”
“To what?”
Marco's smile faded.
“The original ledger.”
Alessio's hand brushed Sophia's wrist.
Tiny movement.
A signal.
She didn't understand it.
Then she saw the hotel room's large mirror.
In it, a figure moved behind Marco.
Alessio's missing security man.
Alive.
Crouched.
Waiting.
Sophia forced herself not to look directly.
Marco continued.
“Your father made copies. Copies are useful. Originals are power.”
“Why?”
“Because the original contains signatures.”
Alessio said, “And Vittorio's.”
Marco's jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“Your uncle.”
“Yes.”
Sophia studied him.
“Why help him?”
Marco's expression changed.
“You think I'm helping him?”
“You followed me across an ocean.”
“To stop Vittorio from getting the key.”
Sophia blinked.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“Very little does when you only know half the story.”
Alessio's guard shifted behind him.
One inch.
Then another.
Marco's eyes remained on Sophia.
“Your father discovered Vittorio was preparing to eliminate everyone connected to the ledger.”
“Including you?”
“Yes.”
“So you're afraid.”
Marco laughed softly.
“Terrified.”
At least the answer sounded real.
“Then help us.”
“I am.”
“By pointing guns?”
“It gets attention.”
Alessio said, “You're done.”
The guard behind Marco moved.
Fast.
One light shattered.
Alessio dragged Sophia down.
A suppressed gunshot cracked.
Then another.
Sophia hit the floor.
Chaos lasted less than six seconds.
When emergency lighting returned, Marco had vanished.
One of his men groaned near the door.
Another had fled.
Alessio was kneeling over Sophia.
“Are you hit?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
His hands checked her arms, shoulders, face.
“Alessio.”
He stopped.
Their eyes met.
For one second, neither moved.
Then Sophia realized how close they were.
His hand cupped the side of her face.
His breathing was controlled but heavier than before.
“You could have been shot.”
“So could you.”
“I’m accustomed to that.”
“I’m not.”
Something vulnerable crossed his expression.
Then disappeared.
He stood and offered a hand.
Dr. Vale was alive.
The unconscious guard was breathing.
Alessio's second guard had a graze along his arm.
Sirens sounded faintly outside.
“We leave now,” Alessio said.
“Termini.”
“Yes.”
“Marco knows about the locker.”
“He doesn't have the key.”
“He could follow us.”
“He will.”
Sophia stared at him.
“And we're going anyway?”
“Immediately.”
They moved through the connecting corridor.
Dr. Vale remained under protection with a private medical team arriving through the garage.
Sophia hated leaving him.
But Vale gave her one final message.
“Your father told me to tell you something if you came.”
“What?”
Vale's eyes softened.
“Remember the song your mother hated.”
Sophia frowned.
“What song?”
“He said you'd understand.”
She didn't.
Not yet.
At Termini Station, thousands of people moved through the enormous concourse.
Tourists.
Commuters.
Families.
Sophia had never felt more exposed.
Alessio changed his black jacket for a gray coat supplied by one of his men.
He gave Sophia a dark scarf.
“Keep your hair covered.”
“This feels ridiculous.”
“It isn't.”
They walked separately.
Sophia twenty feet ahead.
Alessio behind.
His people scattered through the station.
Locker 3719 was in an older storage area near a side corridor.
Sophia inserted the brass key.
Nothing.
She tried again.
The key turned.
Inside sat a small metal box.
No journal.
No papers.
Just the box.
Alessio joined her.
“Don't open it here.”
Sophia lifted it.
Heavy.
“What is it?”
“Hopefully not another tracker.”
They carried it into a private station office Alessio somehow gained access to within minutes.
The box had a combination lock.
Four digits.
Sophia tried 3719.
Incorrect.
“What song did your mother hate?” Alessio asked.
“I don't know.”
“Think.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
Her father cooking.
Her mother laughing.
Road trips.
Christmas.
A song playing loudly while Thomas sang off-key.
Her mother shouting from the kitchen.
Not that one again!
Sophia's eyes opened.
“8675.”
“What?”
“The song was ‘Jenny.’ The old phone-number song. Mom hated Dad singing it.”
She entered 8675.
The lock opened.
Inside lay several items.
A flash drive.
A photograph of Sophia as a child.
A sealed letter.
And a black notebook.
Alessio stared at the notebook.
“The ledger.”
Sophia reached for it.
He stopped her.
“Wait.”
“No wires,” his man said after checking.
Sophia opened it.
Handwritten dates.
Companies.
Numbers.
Initials.
Signatures.
She didn't understand most of it.
Alessio did.
His expression became increasingly grim.
“What?”
He turned a page.
“Carlo Romano.”
His father's signature.
Sophia watched him.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“You said your father tolerated criminal operations.”
“He did.”
“This is worse?”
“Yes.”
“How much worse?”
Alessio closed the ledger.
“He funded Vittorio when Vittorio expanded into trafficking.”
Sophia saw genuine disgust.
“You didn't know.”
“No.”
A phone inside the metal box began ringing.
All three people froze.
An old flip phone.
Alessio looked at Sophia.
“Don't answer.”
She already had.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then breathing.
“Sophia?”
She gripped the phone.
“Dad?”
Alessio's eyes snapped to her.
Thomas Bennett began crying.
Quietly.
“My girl.”
Sophia's knees nearly gave out.
“Dad.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Where are you?”
“Listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“I couldn't contact you. Vittorio had people everywhere.”
“You let me think you were dead.”
“I know.”
“I buried you.”
“I know.”
Her voice broke.
“You let me bury you.”
“I was trying to keep you alive.”
“You should have trusted me.”
“I should have.”
Sophia closed her eyes.
“I’m coming to get you.”
“No.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“Vittorio knows the locker has been opened.”
Alessio took the phone and put it on speaker.
“Thomas.”
A pause.
“Alessio.”
“You're alive.”
“Unfortunately for several people.”
Despite the circumstances, Alessio almost smiled.
“Where are you?”
“Do you have the ledger?”
“Yes.”
“Then you need to get Sophia out of Rome.”
Sophia cut in.
“I'm not leaving without you.”
“Sophia—”
“No.”
Thomas's voice softened.
“You always were your mother's daughter.”
“Dad, please.”
A long pause.
Then Thomas gave an address.
Alessio recognized it immediately.
“That's Vittorio's villa.”
“Yes.”
Sophia went cold.
“You're inside Cardone's house?”
“For now.”
“Why?”
“Because someone here is helping me.”
“Who?”
Thomas began to answer.
Then a sound came through the line.
A door opening.
Thomas inhaled sharply.
“Dad?”
No answer.
“Dad!”
A man's voice replaced his.
Older.
Calm.
“Miss Bennett.”
Alessio's face changed.
“Vittorio.”
Sophia gripped the phone.
Vittorio Cardone laughed softly.
“Bring me my ledger.”
A gunshot sounded through the speaker.
May you like
Sophia screamed her father's name.
The line went dead.
