THE ITALIAN MISSION

click of Lyle's safety being released. John and Steve, their faces etched with sh

is voice raspy with disbe

ity, kept the gun trained on them. "Don't play dumb, John,"

er the puzzle. Stella's cryptic warnings, Lyle's sudd

heart sinking into his stoma

rp as ever, John. She saw through your little red

s not it. It's about more than that. This box…" he gestured towards the

er of doubt momentarily crossing his features. B

he said, his voice cold.

s voice surprisingly calm. "Lyle, listen to yourself. You think yo

long. This was never about some noble cause.

tepped forward. "Lyle, you're wrong! We needed

face contorted in a mask of rage. "Trust?

n the balance. John and Steve, their lives on the line, desp

ollowed by a muffled curse. Rob's voice, distorted

e! Having a pa

taway driver, could be the key to turning the tide. But

his voice strained. "T

d. "Lyle, listen to Rob. He has a boat waiting. We can all w

and the intercom. Doubt and confusion clouded h

repeated, his voice laced

t, Lyle. This doesn't have to end badly. W

ions. The tension in the vault stretched thin, punctuated only by

s and the hiss of hydraulics. The vault door, supposedly secured by Steve's b

tammered, his voice

hidden behind elaborate masks. One held a gun, t

ded," one of the figures said, their

omplication, had just entered the game. The heist, already teetering on

entially alerted, John and Steve were forced to confront a harsh reality – the V