The wind at the harbor smelled of salt and iron.
Dim lights flickered over the docks, shimmering across the dark water like broken veins of gold.
Leo walked fast, hood up, jaw tight. Every step felt like another weight dragging behind him.
Clara followed in silence, her jacket pulled close, hair tousled by the sea breeze. She hadn't spoken since they'd left Palermo. Every few steps, her eyes searched his face, trying to understand what burned behind that calm facade.
"Do you know where they're taking her?" she finally asked.
Leo gave a short nod. "Yeah. Or at least, I think so."
He stopped near an old rusted container, pulled a tablet from his bag, and powered it on.
A radar map flickered to life, a red line cutting through the Tyrrhenian Sea.
"A satellite picked up a scrambled distress signal a few hours ago. It came from a private vessel heading northeast, to an island that doesn't appear on civilian maps. It's owned by Miguel's business partner."
Clara's eyes widened. "And you just happened to know that?"
He turned toward her, his voice low, steady. "Because I used to work for him, without knowing it. Every mission, every coded name led back to that damn island. Now I know what's there. And I'm done waiting for my superiors to 'authorize' anything."
He walked to a small boat moored at the side of the pier. At first glance, it looked like an old fishing vessel, but beneath the chipped paint were reinforced plates and silent military-grade engines.
"This one's mine. It's not on the system. It'll get us there in under six hours."
Clara followed him, but a voice stopped them cold.
"Leo!"
From the shadows of a warehouse, a tall man emerged, blond hair, sharp jaw, eyes the color of glacial blue.
"Don't tell me you're about to do the dumbest thing of your career."
Leo froze, recognizing the voice. "Ethan."
The man, his old teammate, friend, and rival, shook his head.
"You know you're not cleared for this anymore, right? Your cover's gone. You step on that boat, and you're a fugitive."
Leo faced him, their eyes locking. "If I don't, she dies."
Ethan frowned. "Who are you talking about?"
Leo's voice dropped to a growl. "A girl. Naiara Moreno. Miguel's daughter. He's not just moving drugs, Ethan, he's trafficking organs. And she's part of the deal."
Ethan's face went pale. "Christ… you're sure?"
Leo met his stare, unwavering. "Positive. I found out too late. They're taking her to that island to sell her like cargo. And everyone's pretending not to know. Even our superiors."
Ethan dragged a hand through his hair. "Do you have any idea what happens if you disobey a direct order? They'll come after you."
Leo took a step closer. "Then they'll have to catch me. Because if I stay, I die anyway, just slower."
The air between them went still. For a moment, only the waves spoke.
Then Ethan let out a breath and gave a crooked smile.
"I used to think you'd lost your mind. Turns out it's the system that's insane."
He turned toward Clara, who'd been watching silently. Their eyes met, and something unspoken passed between them, curiosity, tension, maybe something else.
"I'm Ethan," he said, offering his hand.
"Clara," she replied, shaking it. "And… thank you for not letting him go alone."
Ethan smirked faintly. "I haven't agreed yet."
But then he glanced back at Leo. "Though… I think my heart already has."
Leo clasped his forearm, the old military way. "Knew you wouldn't walk away."
They boarded the boat together. The engine rumbled softly, vibrating through the hull. The vessel slipped from the dock into open water.
Waves broke against the bow as the night thickened around them.
Ethan stood beside Clara, his profile illuminated by the faint glow of the console. He found himself glancing at her again, unable to stop.
"Mind telling me who we're going to save?" he asked.
Leo's hands tightened on the controls.
"My damnation… and my redemption," he said quietly. "Her name's Naiara. And the man who took her… "
He paused, the words bitter on his tongue.
"… is my brother."