Chapter 11 – Flight Into Shadows

The private aircraft buzzed gently while soaring across the night-time sky. The lounge was filled with crumpled notes and unfolded maps as Matt, Bastian, and Anastasia sifted through every piece of info they could gather for their mission in Vatican City. A smirk played on Matt's lips as he reclined and absorbed everything.

"Alright, let me clarify this," He exclaimed, while enthusiastically waving a map of Vatican City that looked like a sacred scroll. "We're seeking a sacred weapon concealed in the world's most renowned religious location, evading archangels and fending off demons?"

"Yes, and keep that attitude in check, alright? We're not tourists, Matt." Bastian gave him a sharp glare.

Matt shrugged while gliding his finger along the tight paths and roads surrounding St. Peter's Basilica. "Hey, I'm just suggesting... if we're going to embrace irony, we might as well fully commit to it. Besides, I hear the pasta's fantastic." he said, grinning at Anastasia.

"Concentrate, Matt. We have no clue what we're truly stepping into here," Anastasia chuckled, feeling somewhat relieved despite the mission's burden.

A gentle, comforting hand on her shoulder caused her to glance up. Bastian's stare was unwavering, his presence anchoring. "We'll make it work. Wyatt's connections will meet us upon landing and from there we will go directly to the Vatican and try to blend in as much as possible. Last thing we need is attention. We go in, find what we need, and get out."

The plan was straightforward enough, but they knew it would be a miracle if things went that smoothly. The Vatican's tunnels held ancient secrets, and even the most detailed notes couldn't account for every path. They had been there for years and they didn't even know if the tunnels were still intact.

Anastasia eventually excused herself, heading to one of the plane's small bedrooms, craving a moment of quiet. The day's events hung heavy on her, and her mind spun with a thousand questions. The weight of what they were about to do, of where they were going—it all pressed in on her, thick and insistent.

The door clicked open softly behind her, and Bastian stepped in. He closed the door with a quiet click and leaned back against it, his eyes finding hers. There was an understanding in his look that recognized the burden she bore and yearned to share the load.

"Hey," he whispered gently.

Anastasia succeeded in smiling, although it was unsteady. "Hey yourself."

He moved across the little distance to her, gently holding her face in his hand, his thumb gliding over her cheek. "Are you okay?" His voice carried a sadness, a soft comfort..

Anastasia's hand covered his, holding onto him as though he were her anchor. "I… I think I am. Or, at least, I know I will be. But I don't know what I'd do without you right now," she admitted, voice barely a whisper.

Bastian pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her tightly and held each other while standing against the wall of the cabin. Slowly, he tilted her face up to his, their eyes locking in a look that held a thousand promises. He leaned in, his lips brushing hers, soft and tender, and suddenly, all the fear, all the tension faded away. Anastasia pulled away and with her newfound bravery and desire to be with her love, She didn't want to waste their alone time so with haste, she leaned back against the wall and motioned Bastian to come to her with her finger.

"Come here, my love," Anastasia whispered, her voice husky with desire. Bastian noticing her desire for him, obeyed, crouched down, his hands crawling up her legs, sliding up her dress, and pressing his lips to her inner thigh.

"You're so…feisty. I like it," he murmured, his breath hot against her skin. Anastasia closed her eyes and moaned, her hips bucking as he pulled her panties aside and traced his tongue along her soft spot.

"Yes," she begged, her fingers tangling in his hair.

Bastian's tongue delved deep inside her as he tasted her sweetness as she put her leg over his shoulder. He teased her sensitive spot with his thumb, rubbing it in slow circles until Anastasia was panting and moaning.

"I want you – all of you," she gasped, her legs wrapping around his waist.

Bastian slowly got back up and pressed his lips against hers, while pulling her towards the bed then suddenly turned her around and bent Anastasia encouraging her to be on her hands and knees.

He took out his hard erection, positioned himself at her entrance, and rubbed her folds at her entrance. He spent so many weeks thinking she was gone and now she was here, in front of him and he wanted nothing else. He pushed inside her slowly, savouring the feeling of her tightness wrapped around him.

Anastasia cried out with pleasure, her nails digging into the linen.

Their bodies moved together in perfect harmony as they explored each other, when suddenly, in the heat of passion as he reached around to rub her breasts.

"Harder, Bastian," Anastasia begged, her voice muffled by the mattress.

Bastian complied, his hips snapping as he drove deep into her. Anastasia's moans filled the room as she climaxed, her hips clenching around Bastian's hardness.

"I'm almost there, my love," Bastian growled, his thrusts becoming erratic.

Bastian groaned as he came, his erected manhood pulsing as he emptied himself inside her. They collapsed onto the bed, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding.

"I love you, Nasa," Bastian whispered, his lips brushing against her ear.

"I love you too, Bass," Anastasia replied, her fingers tracing patterns on his chest.

They nestled together, enjoying the warmth of their intimacy while the airplane flew through the air. Within that peaceful cabin, enveloped by uncertainty, they found their strength in each other, a reminder of why they fought and everything they had to lose. But Anastasia wasnt done. She missed the feeling of Bastian's skin on hers way to much. "Bass, I would like to go shower...and I dont feel like being alone in there."

He looked at her with a mischievious smirk. "I am at your service ma'am."

Once the plane arrived, they descended the plane's steps onto Italian soil. Matt stretched his arms wide, inhaling the crisp air. "Ah, Italy! Home of the Pope, pasta, and apparently, ancient divine weaponry. Talk about a pilgrimage with benefits."

Anastasia rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. "Careful, Matt. Keep this up, and you'll blow our cover before we even leave the airport."

"Ah come on Sis! We have never been to Italy. Lets just take it in for a few moments before we head into the unknown," Matt insisted as he spread his arms out, taking a deep breath in and facing towards the sky with eyes closed.

Anastasia could only smirk and followed his lead by doing the same thing.

"Are you two done?" Bastian chuckled after watching them for a few moments.

They regrouped quickly, meeting up with two of Wyatt's most trusted allies. With practiced efficiency, the team climbed into an unmarked car, the city's streets blurring by as they headed straight for the Vatican.

Once within Vatican City, the team moved quietly, blending in among the tourists and locals who wandered around St. Peter's Basilica. Wyatt's contacts led them through the winding alleys and hidden nooks until they found a narrow door, set back in the shadows. One of the men stepped forward, unlocking it with a key that looked as ancient as the Vatican itself. They slipped inside, the door closing with a quiet click behind them.

The passageway beneath the Vatican was a maze, cold and silent, the air thick with an eerie stillness that wrapped around them like a shroud. The only light came from the flickering torches they carried, casting long shadows that danced against the stone walls. Every step echoed, each sound amplified as they moved deeper into the heart of the underground.

Anastasia led the way, her hand gripping the map tightly. She paused at a narrow archway, her eyes scanning the script etched into the stone. The language was old, nearly forgotten, yet something about it stirred a memory within her.

"This is it," she whispered, her fingers tracing the words. "The entrance to the next level. The weapon has to be down here… somewhere."

Matt scoffed, his voice breaking the silence. "Or maybe it's just more holy relics. Either way, something's definitely down here. I just hope it's not another blessed water fountain."

A low rumble suddenly echoed through the tunnel, followed by a chilling silence. Bastian tightened his grip on his weapon, shooting Anastasia a tense look. "Stay close."

They moved forward, the rumbling growing louder, a rhythmic thud that shook the ground beneath their feet. The narrow tunnel widened, opening up into a cavernous chamber that seemed to stretch endlessly into the dark.

At the center of the room, an ancient pedestal stood, half-shrouded in shadows. The faint glint of something metallic caught Anastasia's eye, and she stepped forward, her heartbeat quickening as she realized what lay before them.

"This… this has to be it," she whispered, barely daring to breathe.

But before they could move any closer, a low grinding sound echoed through the chamber. Anastasia froze, watching in horror as the walls began to shift, massive stone slabs sliding together with a heavy thud, blocking their way back.

"Trap," Matt muttered, his voice dripping with grim amusement. "Classic. I was starting to think this was too easy."

Bastian cursed under his breath, his eyes scanning their surroundings. The walls were closing in slowly, the ancient mechanisms groaning under the weight of centuries. Shadows flickered as their torches wavered, casting strange patterns on the encroaching stone.

Anastasia's pulse thundered in her ears as she took a step forward, eyes locked on the weapon gleaming atop the pedestal. But the floor beneath her suddenly shifted, a tile sinking with a soft click.

"Oh, great," Matt muttered, throwing his hands up. "If that wasn't ominous enough, now we've got pressure plates. Perfect."

The rumbling grew louder, the walls inching closer, and Anastasia's heart hammered as she realized they were running out of time.