Protocol Ashfall
934 Words
The drone of an overhead chopper sliced through the dawn skies like a war drum.
Alessia watched from the broken window of the Palermo safehouse as the city began to stir below, oblivious to the storm brewing in its underbelly. Her mind wasn’t on the skyline or the quiet hum of traffic. It was on Rafael. Still trapped inside the walls of Project Requiem, and hours away from being erased forever under Lorenzo’s next experiment—Protocol Ashfall.
Behind her, Dr. Elira Voss paced like a caged animal, phone in one hand, datapad in the other. “We don’t have much time. The transfer is real. I intercepted the internal schedule—Rafael is being flown to a covert Requiem compound in Dubrovnik at 1700 hours tonight.”
Alessia turned, jaw tense. “Dubrovnik? That’s Salvatore territory.”
Voss nodded grimly. “Fortified and isolated. Once he's there, no one gets in or out without clearance from Lorenzo himself.”
“What’s Ashfall?”
Elira hesitated. “Ashfall is their final-phase protocol. It severs identity permanently using deep psychotropic triggers and memory distortion algorithms. When it’s done… even the illusion of Rafael Romano will be gone. He’ll become their ghost weapon. A living asset with no past.”
Alessia’s hands curled into fists at her sides.
“Then we stop it before it starts.”
Lino entered the room carrying a silver briefcase. “I secured Voss’s exit file. If we move now, we can intercept the convoy en route to the airstrip. But it’s heavily armed. Salvatore isn’t taking chances.”
Alessia grabbed her gear. “Neither are we.”
Two Hours Later – West Palermo Industrial District
The convoy emerged from the northern tunnel—three black military-grade SUVs and an armored personnel transport sandwiched between them. Their windows were tinted, their paths flanked by two motorcycles weaving in sharp formations.
Alessia lay prone on a rooftop two blocks ahead, scope zeroed in on the middle truck.
“He’s in the APC,” she murmured into her comms.
“Confirming thermal signature now,” Voss replied from the command van nearby. “Heart rate consistent with sedative effects. That’s him.”
Lino’s voice chimed in. “EMP is prepped. Say the word.”
Alessia’s finger hovered over the trigger of her detonator.
“Do it.”
The rooftop shook as a directional EMP burst exploded from a nearby relay pole, shorting out the entire convoy’s electronics in seconds. Engines died. Communications crashed. Panic erupted.
Alessia moved.
She descended the fire escape and crossed the alley as chaos consumed the convoy. The guards scrambled, trying to reboot systems. Smoke grenades deployed from the van Lino had driven around the far side.
In the chaos, Alessia leapt onto the APC, used the emergency override on the hatch, and dropped inside with a thud.
The guard inside never stood a chance—two shots and he was down.
And then—there he was.
Rafael.
Strapped to a medical gurney, an IV in his arm, and thick biometric cuffs securing his limbs. His eyes fluttered open groggily as she leaned over him.
“Rafe,” she whispered. “It’s me. Alessia.”
He blinked, unfocused. A trace of recognition sparked… then faded.
“Don’t… belong,” he murmured.
“No. No, don’t do that,” she said, voice trembling. “I found you. We’re going home.”
An explosion rocked the vehicle from the outside—Lino’s diversion. Time was running out.
She pulled out a stim injection Voss had given her. “This should buy us ten minutes of clarity.”
She jabbed it into Rafael’s neck. His eyes snapped open wide.
“Alessia?” His voice cracked. “Is this real?”
She cupped his face. “As real as it gets. I need you. Right now.”
Another blast shook the truck.
Lino’s voice crackled through her comms. “They’ve got reinforcements—one minute!”
She slung Rafael’s arm over her shoulder and dragged him out of the APC just as bullets shattered the windshield. Lino’s van screeched to a stop near them. The side door slid open, and Voss helped pull Rafael in.
Then Alessia jumped in behind them as the van peeled away, tires screeching against asphalt.
Shots followed them into the distance.
But they were gone.
Safehouse – Midnight
Rafael sat on a mattress on the floor, shivering beneath a wool blanket. Alessia sat beside him, holding his hand like she used to when they were children hiding from thunderstorms.
He looked up slowly. “They made me forget you. Over and over. But I kept hearing your voice in my head. Kept seeing your face. It’s what kept me sane.”
Alessia’s throat tightened. “You’re safe now. You’re with me.”
“I’m not… me anymore,” he said, voice hollow. “They took something from me.”
“Then we’ll get it back,” she promised.
Elira stood in the doorway, arms crossed. “We can reverse most of the damage, but we’ll need time. And access to the Requiem neural logs.”
Alessia looked at her. “Then we take the fight to Lorenzo.”
Voss gave a small, dangerous smile. “I’ve already started building the virus to burn his network to the ground.”
Lino leaned in. “You’re going to need more than just data. You’re going to need allies.”
Alessia stood. “Then it’s time to start recruiting.”
Because tonight proved one thing:
Requiem bled.
And she was going to make sure it kept bleeding until it died.
- Writer
