Operation: Zodiac

Chapter 1

Libra POV: 

The moon hung low over Milan, painting the cobblestone streets in silver. I leaned against the cold brick of an ancient alleyway, my ears tuned to the faint crackle of the comm in my ear. The lively sounds of the piazza drifted toward me—laughter, music, the occasional clink of glasses—but all I could think about was the task at hand. Somewhere not far from here, an illegal arms deal was about to go down, and it was up to Gemini and me to shut it down.

"You're not blending in," came a teasing whisper in my ear, the unmistakable lilt of Gemini's voice cutting through the static.

I smirked, glancing up at the rooftops where I knew she was perched. "I'm a man leaning against a wall in Milan. That's practically a stereotype. How am I not blending in?"

"You're too charming," she quipped, her accent thick and playful. "Even the shadows look like they want your autograph."

I rolled my eyes, though her words tugged at the corners of my mouth. Gemini always had a way of easing the tension, no matter how dire the situation.

"Focus," I muttered, straightening my jacket. "We've got a job to do, and I'd rather not end up on the wrong side of a shootout because you're busy cracking jokes."

Her soft laugh echoed through the comm. "Relax, Libra. I've got eyes on everything. You're just jealous I get the better view."

I didn't bother responding. Instead, I adjusted my earpiece and scanned the dimly lit street ahead. The meeting point was just a block away—a rundown warehouse that looked like it hadn't seen a renovation since the Renaissance. My job was to tail the buyer, figure out where the weapons were being stored, and cut off the operation at the root.

"Do you see him yet?" I asked, my voice low.

"Patience," Gemini replied. "He'll show. These types love making an entrance."

A gust of wind swept through the alley, carrying with it the faint scent of smoke and fried food from the piazza. My fingers twitched at my side, itching for action. Waiting was always the hardest part.

"Got him," Gemini's voice suddenly broke in, all traces of humor gone. "Black coat, red scarf, briefcase. Coming in from the north."

I followed her directions, spotting the man just as he crossed under a flickering streetlamp. He moved with purpose, his eyes darting nervously to either side. The buyer.

"Any sign of backup?" I asked, stepping out of the shadows and keeping a safe distance as I began to follow him.

"Not yet," Gemini replied. "But if I were him, I'd have muscle waiting inside."

"Great," I muttered. "Nothing I love more than a room full of armed thugs."

"Good thing you've got me," she said, and I could practically hear her smirk.

The buyer turned a corner, and I quickened my pace, careful to keep him in sight without drawing attention. He stopped in front of the warehouse, glancing around before slipping inside.

"I'm going in," I whispered.

"Wait," Gemini snapped. "You need to give me thirty seconds to—"

But I was already moving.

The warehouse was just as decrepit on the inside as it looked from the outside. Rusted machinery lined the walls, and the air was thick with the smell of mildew. I slipped behind a stack of crates, my eyes scanning the dimly lit space.

The buyer was standing in the center of the room, briefcase in hand. Across from him stood a man I recognized—a local crime boss with a reputation for smuggling everything from stolen art to military-grade weapons.