escape | vento aureo

x. train

Upon waking up in the afternoon, I roll myself out of bed and stumble into the kitchen. I grab a quick snack and dig the letter out of its hiding place in the drawer. Studying it once again (well-rested this time) reveals more information than I'd initially picked up on. All the people who've been highlighted, Morte included, have their last known whereabouts penciled in under their information. It's a place to start. I drag out a map of Italy along with a red marker.

I start with the ones I'm required to take out. I draw little dots on their general location, soon finding out that the majority of them are based around Rome. I can take a train there and arrive before this evening. There's no point in waiting. My eyes scan the page one last time, memorizing faces and grabbing any extra information. There's no record of these guys having Stands. If Cuore can rival Passione, they have to have at least a few.

My mind wanders to something that one of the doctors who saved Cirillo said. She said the bullet wound was like nothing she'd ever seen, that it matched none of the ones she'd dealt with in twenty years of practicing. I store that tidbit of information in the back of my head.

I change clothes in my bedroom while making the outline of a plan. I decide against dressing feminine today even though wearing baggy clothes in this warm weather is slowly chipping away at my sanity. I throw on a thick, green crop top; a loose pair of black jeans; and combat boots. I stuff a change clothes into a bag along with the information Cirillo sent me and other things. Taking one last look at my apartment, I head out.

Naples is buzzing with activity today. The number of tourists has doubled with the return of summer. I'm wading through a wide variety of cultures and languages, some of which I know and others that aren't familiar in the slightest. In preparation for this mission, after training in Morioh, the Foundation had me spend two weeks in a different part of Italy so that I'd get used to speaking Italian. The last time I spoke English, my native tongue, was the day before I headed to Naples. I spoke with my father on the phone. He's all the way in Manchester. I wonder what he and Diana are doing right now . . .

While I was lost in thought, a man walked out in front of him. He's totally unaffected when we collide, but I fall onto my backside with an "oof." I pick myself off the ground; the man makes no move to help me. "Watch where you're going," he snaps in a harsh tone before walking away, his long, dark coat flowing behind him. I frown in his direction before continuing with my journey.

When I arrive at Napoli Centrale station, I buy a ticket to Rome and stand out on the platform. A small group of people gather around me. The hairs on my arms stand up with how close they are, so close that one of them, a girl with blond hair, brushes my bag when she gestures. I step away from them, but they only get closer. I sigh in relief when the train finally arrives. I board the second I can and find my seat, which is right next to the window.

The train is lightly packed. I glance out the window and watch people pass by. A small part of my mind is preoccupied with searching for anyone I recognize. It occurs to me that someone else from Passione may have been sent to hunt down the ones who hurt Cirillo. I know Nero's team isn't the only hitman squad, but I can't help but wonder if I'll run into one of them.

If I do, I sure hope it's Illuso. At least he could tolerate me.

Someone sits down next to me. I lean closer to the window and focus on the people. The person, however, lays a hand on my shoulder. I whip my head around to look at them. Her face strikes up a memory--the blonde who kept bumping into me. I raise an eyebrow. "Can I help you?"

She laughs nervously. "Uh, if you can. You see, I was with my friends, and they kind of dumped me here alone. Now I'm heading to Rome, but I don't feel comfortable going all alone." With her free hand, she twirls a lock of her long hair and looks away shyly. "I was wondering, because you look so tough and all, if you could help me."

I purse my lips. I don't want to be an asshole, but my mission is a bit more important than this. "I can't be your babysitter, but I can guide you to the police station if you need me to. If you don't want to be in Rome by yourself, I suggest you get off the train and meet back up with your friends."

She takes her hand off my shoulder, a shocked look crossing her face. Then she regains her composure. "Aw, you're no fun." There's something dangerous that flashes behind her dark eyes. "Quinn, I thought you would be more exciting than this, being a mafioso and all."

A chill runs down my back with her words and the glint in her eyes. "How do you know my name?"

"You hung around Capo Ricci more than the rest of his recruits ever did. He seemed to really like you, like a son or something. And rumor has it that he had information on my boss and my organization that he handed over to an assassin." Her eyes narrow. "And rumor has it that it's you, a newbie of all people."

"I don't belong to an assassin team. The capo would have left something like that to them. He's a logical man."

Blondie smirks. "I doubt that. But I guess if I want any information, I'll have to beat it out of you." She leans in close, one hand on the armrest and the other on my knee. "When the train stops in Rome, come find me. I'll be right outside the station. Don't, and I'll do some terrible things to some innocent people." She pats my leg before hopping out her seat and disappearing into another car.

I shrink down in my seat. Cuore works fast.