Milan Stand-Off

Location: Milan, Italy – Piazza del Trionfo

The first black sedan screeched to a halt at the edge of the piazza. The doors flew open almost simultaneously, men in sleek black suits spilling out with practiced efficiency. Each was armed—subtle, but deadly. The kind that didn't hesitate to shoot in public if necessary.

Damien didn't flinch. He stepped forward, positioning himself between the statue and the approaching threat. Behind him, Nora slipped the silver case into her coat and whispered something into her comm.

"Backup ETA?" Damien murmured.

"Five minutes," Langston replied, lowering his stance and pulling his weapon from beneath his coat. "We just need to hold them."

The opposing group split—two flanked left, another three right. One remained behind the car, barking orders in rapid Italian. But Damien caught it—"Take the package, eliminate all if necessary."

Zachary's voice was calm and cold. "No negotiations?"

Damien smirked. "Not today."

The first shot came from the left. A silenced burst. Damien ducked as Langston returned fire with a sharp crack, the bullet finding its mark. One of the assailants dropped.

Panic briefly rippled through the piazza as civilians screamed and scattered, but the attackers showed no concern for bystanders. It was clear—they were professionals, and they were after Damien.

Nora took cover behind a marble column, pistol steady, eyes scanning. "They're trying to funnel us west. Into an alley."

"Too predictable," Damien said. "Let's surprise them."

He bolted left, flanking hard. The attackers weren't expecting such aggression. Damien's blade flashed—clean, swift. One went down silently.

Another tried to draw on Nora's position, but Zachary shot first—his precision was lethal, his expression unreadable. Nora took her shot immediately after. Two more fell.

Langston covered Damien as they advanced. "Three left. Rear vehicle. The driver's armed."

"Smoke," Damien ordered.

Langston hurled a flash-smoke grenade. It burst in a white cloud, disorienting the final squad.

In the chaos, Damien reached the last attacker and pinned him to the hood of the car, gun at his throat.

"Who sent you?" he demanded.

The man hissed in pain but didn't answer.

Damien pressed harder. "You think I won't kill you?"

The man finally spat, "Victor Kane. He doesn't want the world to know what you found."

Nora's eyes flared. "So he's already watching."

Damien knocked the man unconscious. "Let him watch. Because this time, we're coming for everything he's buried."

Sirens sounded in the distance. Langston was already erasing their digital traces from the scene.

"Time to disappear," Zachary said.

Damien looked at Nora. "Let's head to Geneva. We'll need sanctuary and a secure lab to access that microchip."

She nodded. "The truth is almost ours."

As they vanished into the mist of Milan's hidden alleyways, Damien knew—this wasn't just about family anymore.

It was war.