I was staring at the shadowed ceiling of my bedroom when my burner phone lit up on the nightstand.
It was a text from Rocco. He ordered me to a set of coordinates deep in the industrial district at 7 AM sharp.
I fully intended to ignore the Don's command. I turned over and squeezed my eyes shut.
A second text arrived ten minutes later. It was a rare, gruff apology.
"I was out of line about the helmet. Come to the coordinates. I will make it up to you tomorrow."
I stared at the glowing screen in the dark, the harsh light biting at my vision.
I decided to go. I intended to use this isolated moment to look him in the eye and formally confess that I had abandoned the Enforcer path.
I arrived at the desolate drop-point just as the sun began to bleed over the horizon.
A black, heavily armored transport van idled in the dirt lot, its exhaust pluming in the morning chill.
Rocco rolled down the reinforced passenger window. He gestured impatiently for me to approach.
I hesitated on the gravel.
"Move your ass," the driver barked through the window. He was a hardened Soldier with a jagged scar cutting through his eyebrow.
I pulled open the heavy steel door and stepped inside.
I froze. A sharp ringing bloomed deep in my eardrums, momentarily deafening me to the van's rumbling engine. My knuckles turned white where I gripped the edge of the door.
The van was packed shoulder-to-shoulder with Syndicate recruits.
They were fully strapped in tactical gear, Kevlar vests, and combat boots.
I was standing in the aisle wearing civilian jeans and a thin sweater. I was a glaring target.
Rocco turned around in the passenger seat. His face hardened the second he saw me.
"Why the hell are you showing up unarmed and unprotected for a Smuggler's Route Survival Drill?" he berated me, his voice echoing in the confined space.
"You clearly ignored my 2 AM encrypted briefing on the secure network."
I pulled out my phone in a daze.
"I left the estate before checking the secure network," I explained, my voice barely above a whisper.
I stepped closer to the front row, but as I did, my chest tightened with a sudden, sharp agony.
Daria was fast asleep in the front bench seat right next to Rocco. Her head was resting intimately on his broad shoulder, and his heavy leather jacket was draped over her legs.
I turned around to flee the van.
The heavy doors slammed shut and automatically locked.
The engine roared to life, vibrating violently through the floorboards.
Rocco scoffed, turning back to face the windshield.
"You are too weak to need gear anyway, Tessa. Find a seat in the back and stay out of the way."
I stared at his sharp, merciless profile.
I walked down the aisle to the very last row, sitting next to a pile of spare ammunition crates.
I remembered how he used to violently threaten anyone who dared to take the safest seat in the center of the car away from me.
Now, he was sending me to the most dangerous spot in the transport.
I forced myself to endure it. I had no desire to run a cartel smuggling route.
I had no desire to be the third wheel to their lethal romance.
I vowed to call a Family extraction team the moment the van stopped.
The transport drove deep into undisputed, treacherous territory.
We stopped two hours later at the base of a heavily forested mountain used for illegal border runs.
The doors opened. The recruits filed out into the freezing morning air.
I stayed in my seat. I looked at the driver.
"Take me back to the city."
He looked at me through the rearview mirror like I was insane.
"This transport doesn't move until the extraction at 1700 hours. Get out."
I was paralyzed. I dreaded the thought of spending hours in the wilderness with Rocco and Daria.
Daria vaulted over the seats from the front.
She landed next to me and wrapped a heavy arm around my neck.
"Come on, Tessa," she said, her voice dripping with overly enthusiastic venom. "I am so glad you are joining the combat march. It will build character."
I coldly shrugged her arm off my shoulders.
"I am waiting in the armored van."
Rocco approached the back doors. He was strapping a tactical knife to his thigh.
He frowned at me.
"What is your problem now?" he demanded. "I pulled strings for this drill as my apology to you. You need field experience."
He pointed a gloved finger at Daria.
"It was Daria's Capo father who secured our spots in this elite training. Show her some respect and get out of the van."
I was suffocating on my rage. I gripped the edge of the seat.
"Pay your own debts, Rocco. I never asked for this bloodsport."
Instead of exploding, Rocco let out a dark, arrogant chuckle.
He nodded slowly, as if he had anticipated my defiance.
He and Daria stepped out into the dirt.
Suddenly, Rocco shouted over the rising wind.
"Remember that vintage silver rosary I took from your nightstand this morning?"
The early autumn breeze had been humid, but where it now touched the fine hairs on my neck, it felt like the scrape of a rusted blade. A sickening dread gripped my stomach.
It was my late grandfather's blood-oath rosary.
It was the only relic I had left of the man who raised me, my most sacred possession.
I stood up and walked to the edge of the van doors.
Rocco was standing in the dirt under a brewing storm. He flashed a cruel, triumphant smile.
"I had one of my men hide the relic at the extraction point on the other side of the mountain hours ago," he boasted, crossing his arms. "If you want it back, you have to survive the route."
Thunder cracked above us like a gunshot.
A tremor of fury shot through my limbs. I jumped out of the van and screamed at him.
"How dare you use a dead Consigliere's relic as a pawn in your twisted games!"
Rocco's eyes widened slightly at the severity of the storm breaking overhead, but his pride won out.
"It is in a waterproof case," he claimed, his voice hardening against the gale. "It is easily visible at the finish line. Just walk the trail."
Daria chimed in, adjusting her rifle strap.
"The Boss is just doing you a favor, Tessa. If you are too weak for the Enforcers, you need to suffer to learn how to survive."
Rocco threw a heavy tactical jacket at my chest.
I let it hit the mud at my feet.
Blinded by a potent mixture of desperation and rage, I pushed past them both.
I plunged directly into the lethal wilderness, determined only to retrieve my grandfather's soul.
