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
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
stammered, 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