May 7 2021. 23:49. Rome. Gala day.
The room settles into silence, one that isn't uncomfortable but built on years of midrespect.
Don Alessandro remains standing near the front while conversations naturally shift toward him.
Nobody interrupts him. Nobody tries to steal the room. Even those who were quietly competing for attention only moments earlier now seem content to listen.
Some parts, spoken in Italian, naturally slip by me.
But every now and then there's a word I recognize, and I can infer the context from the pieces I do have. It's not enough to fully understand everything, of course, but it's more than enough to follow where the conversation is headed.
The Don starts by thanking everyone for coming, the typical pleasantries and all that, addressing the guests, their families, and then the mafia captains, the people who have spent decades standing beside the Neapolitan Camorra through the good years and the bad ones.
Several older members nod quietly while others raise their glasses in acknowledgement.
Pretty standard as far as mafia meetings go, I'd say.
Throughout the speech, the Don occasionally slips in words that stand out to me.
Famiglia. Tradizione. Rispetto.
Even without understanding every sentence, those words are emphasized enough that the message slowly but surely spells itself out.
He's talking about legacy... about everything the Camorra has built over the years and how to protect it once he eventually steps down.
It doesn't require any translation. Everyone understands what the Don is talking about.
He continues, gesturing toward the underbosses seated throughout the room as he reflects on the future of the organization. Several names are mentioned that I don't recognize, followed by a few that I do.
Antonio. Elena. Marco. Dante. A few others as well.
All of them are rivals for becoming the next leader of the Camorra.
Even from where I'm standing near the back, it's obvious when the atmosphere shifts again. It's subtle, yes, but if people were paying attention before, now they're paying even closer attention.
Postures straighten while others narrow their eyes in thought as the conversation shifts away from history and toward the future... toward succession.
If I were actually invested in knowing more about everyone involved tonight, I'm sure this would be way more intriguing. But my job is literally to make sure Dante wins, and the eddies practically speak for themselves.
Hell, considering Dante was one of the few underbosses entrusted with heading to Vancouver to acquire the railgun, I'm pretty sure most people have already accepted the outcome, even if nothing has been officially confirmed yet.
What surprises me, though, is when the Don mentions Vancouver.
Eventually, Don Alessandro turns toward Dante, congratulating him on a job well done despite the challenges of operating on a foreign continent.
The room follows the Don's gaze almost immediately.
Dante, who has been sitting patiently near the front, rises from his seat. He doesn't look nervous, nor does he look overconfident. Not at all.
His achievements are listed one by one by the Don.
This part is easier to follow. Several conversations earlier tonight already filled in most of the blanks, so what's left is mostly a repeat of what I've already heard.
Dante's international operations are mentioned first.
No one can deny those, and people nod along while several underbosses exchange quiet remarks with one another.
Then comes his political influence, including the connections he's established both within Europe and beyond, followed by the negotiations he's personally overseen and the relationships he's cultivated.
I fight the urge to blank out.
It's hard paying attention to a speech you can't fully understand, especially when each topic is dedicated to another accomplishment Dante already has under his belt.
Instead, I focus on the room and study the people.
Not to my surprise, I spot Tetra struggling to follow along as well. Every now and then he blinks, looking somewhere between deep thought and complete confusion.
It's kind of funny.
I fight the urge to laugh and instead look around at everyone else.
Neither Shock nor Wissen looks out of place. If anything, they look completely locked in.
Near the front, some underbosses nod approvingly while others remain unreadable. A few still look unconvinced that Dante is truly fit to lead.
What's certain, though, is that every one of them is evaluating him, not just as a potential leader but as someone they may eventually answer to.
The rest of the room mostly mirrors that same energy, though I catch a few people farther back discreetly checking their phones whenever they think no one is watching.
Fortunately for them, the Don moves on to another topic.
One that immediately brings everyone's attention back to him. He mentions a single word that I think all of us lock onto.
Railgun.
My eyes drift toward the reinforced case beside Dante.
Thankfully, it's still locked and untouched.
Still, part of me can't help wondering how much power that thing can actually punch through considering all the hype surrounding it.
We've fought to acquire it. We've even modified it so it only fires once.
Yet none of us has ever actually seen it in action.
The Don speaks for another minute before turning toward Dante, gesturing with his hand as he silently passes the floor over.
Dante rises once again, offering the Don a respectful nod before stepping beside the reinforced case.
He begins speaking in Italian first.
This time I understand even less, though the room follows every word. Several underbosses nod along while others quietly fold their arms, waiting to hear what comes next.
Then Dante smoothly transitions into English.
"For the benefit of our international guests," he says calmly, "I will repeat the important details."
His hand rests lightly against the reinforced case.
"The weapon contained inside possesses considerably more destructive capability than any conventional firearm. Because of this, the demonstration will not be conducted here."
A few guests exchange curious looks.
Instead of sounding disappointed, they almost seem excited.
"A dedicated demonstration chamber has already been prepared elsewhere within the venue," Dante continues. "The room has been reinforced and inspected to ensure there is no risk to our guests or to the public outside."
A quiet wave of whispers spreads throughout the room.
"So it really exists..."
"He actually brought it back..."
"I still don't believe it."
"I heard it can punch through military armour."
Some stare openly at the case. Others barely take their eyes off Dante.
Whatever doubts remained about whether he had succeeded in Vancouver seem to be disappearing one conversation at a time.
Dante waits patiently for the room to settle before offering a small smile.
"If everyone would please follow me."
Almost immediately, the gathering begins to move.
Security naturally spreads out around the underbosses while guests slowly funnel toward the exits leading to the demonstration hall.
I watch them leave. From where I'm standing, the movement looks organized enough.
My eyes instinctively begin tracking the security teams.
That's when I notice it.
Who the hell?
One of the guards near the rear entrance breaks formation.
Not dramatically to someone unsuspecting, but enough for someone like Tetra or me to catch it. Our eyes briefly meet across the room before we exchange a subtle nod.
Him.
Instead of moving with the rest of his team, the lone guard hesitates for half a second before changing direction altogether. His route doesn't match anyone else's.
My eyes narrow.
Near the front of the procession, Shock pauses, only for a moment.
Her gaze briefly flicks toward one of the hallway security cameras mounted near the ceiling.
"...Huh." She frowns to herself.
One of the nearby technicians notices.
"Everything alright?"
Shock keeps staring for another second before slowly nodding.
"...Probably." She doesn't sound convinced.
Then my phone vibrates with a text message from Mister in our group chat.
"Two individuals abruptly ended their conversation when Giovanni 'Ghost' Bianchi walked past them. Behaviour changed immediately. Possible connection. Remain alert."
Fuck, isn't that a different underboss altogether?
I don't recognize the name, but Mister clearly thinks it's worth mentioning, so it must be.
Before I can dwell on it, another notification appears.
This one includes a photograph from Tetra, slightly blurry and obviously taken in a hurry. It's the same guard that broke formation, walking away from his assigned position.
"Following him. Artemis, with me."
Across the room, Tetra slips his phone back into his pocket as though nothing happened.
He quietly says something to the nearest guard that I can't quite make out.
The guard simply nods before letting Tetra casually peel away from the formation.
He gestures for me to follow, and together we trail the man through the crowd without drawing attention to ourselves.
I glance back toward the front.
Shock is still watching the camera feed.
Mister and Remi? I legitimately have no clue what's happening on their end.
Tetra and I are following a guard whose movements don't feel right.
None of these things, by themselves, are enough to justify sounding an alarm.
But together they feel... off.
The procession continues toward the demonstration hall.
Around us, people keep chatting, laughing, and speculating about the railgun waiting inside the reinforced case.
Nobody seems aware that anything is wrong.
My hand instinctively brushes the concealed pistol beneath my jacket.
Something's coming.
I just don't know what.
…
May 8 2021. 00:11. Rome.
Tetra and I continue following the guard at a comfortable distance, careful not to make ourselves memorable.
Thankfully, whoever he is, he doesn't seem particularly interested in checking whether he's being followed.
He simply walks past one corridor. Then another right after.
The farther we move away from the main procession, the quieter the venue becomes. The music fades into the background until it's little more than a distant echo behind thick walls.
Eventually, the guard slows near one of the service intersections.
Shit. He isn't alone.
Three other Camorra members are already waiting.
None of them are wearing security uniforms or look particularly relaxed either.
Tetra quietly raises a hand, and we both stop before we round the corner completely.
We slip behind a decorative column near one of the intersecting hallways, close enough to watch yet far enough to remain unseen.
The conversation is too quiet for me to catch everything.
It's in Italian. Mostly.
Damn it.
I pick out fragments whenever somebody raises their voice slightly.
"...tempistica..."
Timing.
"...dopo la dimostrazione..."
After the demonstration.
"...la sicurezza è in posizione..."
Security is in position.
Wait… security? What the fuck.
I lean in toward Tetra just enough to whisper, "You caught that too?"
He gives a small nod, his expression telling me he's thinking the exact same thing.
The men don't linger much longer.
After another few quiet exchanges, they split apart, each disappearing toward different sections of the venue like nothing ever happened.
The original guard heads back, rejoining the rest of the security personnel as though he'd never left.
My phone vibrates again with another message from Shock.
"Camera issue is worse than expected, y'all."
A second message arrives almost immediately.
"Multiple users are interacting with gala security simultaneously. Credentials appear legitimate too."
She sends a facepalming emoji.
"Security station is... compromised. We're not even trying to stop someone from getting in anymore. We've already lost control. IDK how..."
"...Shit," I whisper.
Tetra reads over my shoulder. "...That's bad."
"No kidding."
Before either of us can respond, another notification appears from Mister.
"Several VIPs have quietly changed positions throughout the venue."
Another message follows.
"It feels like certain guests know something the rest of us don't."
A chill runs down my spine.
Last but not least, Remi joins in with a text of his own.
"Yo."
Of course.
I can't tell if I'm relieved nothing happened to him or annoyed that it took him this long to contact us.
"Shit is fuckin' weird, yo. I'm out in the lobby and the guards be whispering. Idk what's happening but everyone's moving different."
I slowly lock my phone.
And there it is. Fuck my life. Every single member of the team has found something.
Different pieces of the puzzle, yet we're all pointing toward the same conclusion while the gala continues as if nothing's wrong.
I turn back to Tetra. "We've gotta head back. Stalking them isn't going to do anything."
"You're right," Tetra says, shaking his head. "But we shouldn't leave these guys alone either." He looks toward the direction the group disappeared before turning back to me. "You go back first. We need you at Dante's side if things are going to escalate."
"You sure?" My brows furrow.
"Artemis..." He lets out a small sigh. "I'm pretty sure I can handle tailing a few guys on my own."
"Okay, but what if they start filling you up with lead?"
A faint grin crosses his face. "I promise you it won't get to that point."
"...Fine." I hesitate for another second before giving him a nod. "Don't do anything stupid."
"Says the assassin. Aren't you the solo on our team?"
I roll my eyes, fighting the urge to smile.
"Shut up."
He chuckles quietly before disappearing down the hallway after the group.
I turn the opposite direction and begin making my way back toward Dante.