Vera

The fourth day began with rain.

Not the gentle kind that softened the hills and washed the dust from olive leaves, but a hard, insistent downpour that struck the stone terraces like warning shots. Vera watched it from the command room, hands folded, spine straight, her mind already three steps ahead of whatever the day would bring.

Rain always revealed weaknesses.

It blurred cameras.

Softened footprints.

Covered sound.

Antonio knew that.

She lifted her gaze to the wall of ...