Shadows on the Water
**New York Harbor – 1:11 AM**
The wind stung Emilia's face as the small skiff bounced over the dark waves. She clutched the side with one hand, the other pressed tight to the bandage on her ribs. Cole sat hunched beside her, soaked and shaking, his wounded arm useless. Neither spoke. The only sounds were the steady hum of the boat's engine and the slap of water against the hull.
Luca sat at the tiller, eyes forward. The river opened before them like a black mirror, reflecting scattered lights from the city skyline. Rain misted down, soft and cold.
"We're almost past the bridge," he said without turning.
Emilia forced herself to look. The outline of the Brooklyn Bridge rose above them, a skeletal giant in the night. They were almost free of the FBI's immediate reach—but she knew that didn't mean safety.
Cole's voice was hoarse. "Where are we going?"
"An old maintenance dock," Luca said. "Abandoned. It won't hold long, but it's something."
Emilia met his eyes. "What about Rafa?"
"He'll lead them on land. Buy us time."
Cole cursed under his breath. "This won't last. They're closing in."
Luca didn't argue. Instead, he steered the boat toward a narrow inlet, where a crooked wooden dock waited in the shadows.
The skiff bumped against the planks. Luca jumped out first, tying the rope to a rusted cleat. Then he turned, arms open.
"Come on."
Emilia tried to stand, but her legs gave way. Luca caught her, lifting her easily. She wanted to protest but couldn't find the strength. Cole followed, stumbling, using the side of the boat to balance.
They moved quickly into a nearby warehouse—a forgotten place with broken windows and oil-stained floors. A few dusty crates remained, half-smashed and covered in cobwebs. The air smelled of mold and seaweed.
Luca set Emilia down on a tarp. "We wait here. Just until dawn."
Cole slumped against a crate. "You trust this place?"
Luca's jaw tightened. "I trust it more than anywhere else right now."
Emilia leaned back, breathing through the pain. Her side throbbed with every heartbeat. "Leonora De Rossi," she whispered. "She found us. She threatened to hand me over to her father."
Luca nodded. "She's more dangerous than her father. Leonora plays the long game. She wants power, not blood. But she'll spill plenty to get it."
"She knew about the FBI too," Cole added. "She's been watching us. Tracking us."
"She'll twist the situation to her advantage. That's what the De Rossi family does."
Luca moved to the window, watching the street below. A single car rolled by, slow and quiet. He didn't breathe until it turned the corner.
"If the FBI tracks the boat, they'll find this dock. We won't have long."
**De Rossi Safehouse**
Leonora tossed her wet coat over a chair. Her men filed in behind her, silent and efficient. She poured herself a drink, hands steady despite the night's chaos.
Her lieutenant spoke quietly. "We lost visual after the bridge. They split. Van and skiff went separate ways."
Leonora sipped once, then said, "Let the FBI chase the decoy. We follow the water."
He nodded. "Yes, ma'am."
She turned to the window. In the distance, the East River gleamed like a silver snake under the clouds.
"Luca won't run forever," she murmured. "Not with her beside him."
**Warehouse Hideout **
Emilia sat up with effort. "We need to talk."
Luca turned. "Now?"
"Yes. While we still can."
He knelt beside her, watching her carefully.
"You knew I was FBI. Before the ambush. Why didn't you kill me?"
He hesitated. Rain tapped gently against the broken windows.
"Because," he said finally, "something about you told me not to."
"That's not good enough."
"I don't kill good people. Even if they're on the wrong side."
"You don't know me."
He gave a small, sad smile. "I know more than you think. I know you didn't pull that trigger at the docks. I know you shielded Cole. And I know you're scared right now, but still here."
Emilia lowered her eyes. The truth hurt more than her injuries. "This isn't going to end well."
"No. But maybe it doesn't have to end tonight."
They held each other's gaze for a moment longer. Then Cole groaned from his corner.
"Heads up," he said. "We have company."
Luca was on his feet instantly, pistol drawn.
Outside, faint footsteps echoed. Then a quiet knock.
"Luca," came Rafa's voice. "It's me."
Luca opened the door. Rafa slipped inside, soaked and out of breath.
"They followed the van. I lost them near Canal Street. But they have dogs, drones. It's a matter of time."
"De Rossi?"
"Still in play. Her people are watching both ends. They're waiting to see who slips first."
Luca ran a hand through his wet hair. "Then we need a new exit."
Rafa looked at Emilia. "She can't travel far."
"I can move," Emilia said, pushing herself up.
Luca steadied her. "You don't have to prove anything."
"Yes, I do."
**FBI Mobile HQ – 2:00 AM**
Agent Vargas leaned over a map. His team traced movement along the riverbank, but the skiff had vanished.
"They went dark after the bridge," one agent said. "We think they docked near an abandoned maintenance station."
Vargas rubbed his eyes. "Get eyes there. And call the Coast Guard. I want every boat in this sector flagged."
His phone buzzed. A text appeared: *Your enemies run on borrowed time.*
No name. No number.
Just the De Rossi stamp.
**Warehouse Hideout **
Luca folded the tarp and packed supplies into a bag. Cole reloaded a spare handgun, wincing with every movement.
Rafa opened a crate to reveal a hidden hatch beneath. "This leads to the old sewer tunnels. Ugly, but it'll take us under the city."
"Where do they come out?" Emilia asked.
"Lower East Side. Near a train yard."
Luca nodded. "We split from there. Rafa, you and Cole head to the contact on 14th. I take Emilia somewhere safe."
Cole objected. "No. We stick together."
**Sewer Tunnels **
They dropped into darkness. The air was thick, damp, and rank. Rafa led with a flashlight, Luca at the rear. Emilia leaned on him, her strength fading fast.
Cole moved slowly but stayed close.
Somewhere above them, sirens screamed.
They kept walking.
Each step was a promise: to fight, to survive, to return.
To choose loyalty, not blood.
To hold on to light, even in the shadows.
The tunnels were suffocating. The air was thick with the smell of rot, the walls slick with moisture. Each step felt heavier, like the darkness itself was pulling them down.
Emilia's breath was ragged. Every movement sent sharp pain through her side. She barely kept up, her legs trembling beneath her. Luca's grip on her tightened, but even his steady hold couldn't keep the fear from creeping in.
Rafa led the way, flashlight cutting through the shadows, his every step careful, deliberate. Cole followed, his gun tight in his grip, eyes darting in every direction.
Then it came. A sound—clattering. Distant, but unmistakable.
Cole's head snapped to the side, his hand jerking to his holster. "Did you hear that?"
"Shh," Rafa hissed, holding up a hand. "Stay low."
A low, whirring hum sliced through the dark. Emilia's heart skipped. The unmistakable sound of a drone. It was too close.
"Fuck, they've got drones down here?" Luca cursed, his voice low, tense.
"They've got everything," Rafa muttered, his eyes scanning the narrow path ahead. "We just have to outlast it."
They pressed themselves against the cold, wet stone. The light of the drone flickered over the tunnel entrance, moving fast, covering the area like a predator hunting in the dark.
Luca pulled Emilia tighter into the shadows, his body a shield between her and the light. She could hear the drone's buzzing growing louder, the light bright, searching.
Her pulse raced, her breath shallow. She didn't dare move.
The drone passed by, its light vanishing into the tunnel ahead. But it wasn't gone for long. The buzz of its propellers filled the space again—closer this time.
Rafa gestured sharply. "Now. Move!"
They scrambled forward, each footstep faster than the last, as if running from something that might catch them at any moment. The walls seemed to close in around them, the air thick with the threat of being found.
Every sound was amplified—the pounding of their hearts, the scraping of shoes on wet stone. But the drone was still out there. They could hear it, circling, waiting to pick them off.
Luca's voice was low and urgent. "We keep moving, no matter what. Don't stop."
Emilia could barely keep up, but she had no choice. The tunnel stretched ahead, endless, dark—and with every step, they were getting closer to being caught.
The deeper they went, the older the tunnels became—walls crumbling, ceilings low enough to graze their heads. Pipes groaned above like something alive, ancient and angry.
Cole stumbled again, blood soaking his sleeve. "We won't make it if we don't rest."
"No," Luca snapped. "We stop, we die."
But Emilia's legs buckled. She collapsed to her knees with a gasp, her vision swimming.
"I need—" she began, but her words faded into a blur.
Luca was down beside her in an instant. He pulled her against him, hands slick with grime and blood. "You're burning up."
"She's septic," Rafa said, pale in the flickering light. "Too much blood loss. She won't last another mile like this."
Luca's jaw clenched. "Then we change the plan."
"We don't have a plan.
"We don't have a plan," Rafa said, turning sharply, his flashlight cutting through the dark. "Just a ticking clock .
Luca's eyes blazed in the dim light. "Then we buy time with whatever we have left."
Suddenly, above them, the sound of boots. Echoing. Fast.
Cole swore. "They're in the tunnels."
"No way they tracked us that fast—" Rafa began, but a distant shout cut him off.
They all froze.
Emilia stirred in Luca's arms, delirious, her head lolling to his shoulder. "Don't… let them… take me…"
"I won't," Luca said, voice like steel.
"We split," he snapped to Rafa. "Now."
Rafa hesitated. "That's suicide."
"No," Luca growled. "It's war."
He shoved a flash drive into Cole's hand. "Take it to the contact on 14th. Everything the Bureau needs is on it—names, drops, De Rossi accounts. Burn the whole goddamn web."
Cole's eyes widened. "You had this the whole time?"
Luca nodded once. "This isn't just about survival. It's about ending this."
The ground trembled faintly—drones or something heavier above. Time was gone.
"I'll take Emilia south. Through the old flood channels. There's a way out near Pier 9," Luca said.
Rafa handed over a backup radio. "You won't have signal down there. But if you make it to the surface—"
"I will."
They clasped arms, quick and silent. Then Luca vanished into the lower tunnel with Emilia in his arms, swallowed by the dark.
Cole looked at Rafa. "We'll draw them off."
Rafa pulled back the slide on his pistol. "Let's make it count."
Water rushed around Luca's boots, icy and rising. The tunnel dipped, barely wide enough to walk. Emilia's fevered breath grew shallow.
"Stay with me," he whispered. "You don't get to leave. Not now"
Luca pushed forward, boots splashing, pistol ready.
Then—a metal grate. Light above. A ladder.
He kicked it open.
Luca emerged with Emilia into a storm-lashed alley. The city loomed around them, sirens bleeding into the night.
He staggered toward a black sedan hidden behind dumpsters. One of his last stashes.
As he opened the door, Emilia murmured, "You can't run from this forever."
He looked down at her. "I'm not running. I'm going to burn them down."
Behind them, distant gunfire echoed like thunder.
De Rossi Penthouse – 4:41 AM
Leonora stood by the window, robe loose over her shoulders. She stared down at the lights dancing across the East River.
"They split," her lieutenant reported. "Two targets. One went north. The other—Pier 9."
Leonora smiled coldly. "Send a crew to both. But the one at Pier 9?"
She turned, eyes glinting like a blade.
"Bring her back alive."