With All My Love And More

We're in the 21st century and he really shouldn't depend on letters all the time

Salvatore was anxious, to say the least, being that from his experience with Chance the past five days hasn't been the smoothest when it comes to insuring an under the radar mission. He was hoping this would be a clean and swift pick up. They would locate her and get her out before anyone could take photos. Salvatore knew they had been extremely lucky these past five days with keeping Chance's identity secret, but it was bound to run out at some point. If and when her idenitity comes out, he only hoped she would know the kind of chaos that would be waiting for her.

"Essere preparato. Dentro e fuori," he radioed in through his ear piece. (Be prepared. In and out.) The guards all nodded as they boarded the train. The train guests went silent once he stepped inside, "My apologies for the interruption, we are looking for a lost guest. Please be patient, we will be done shortly." Everyone just stared as Salvatore moved through the aisle looking at each of the guests, but so far he didn't find her. At first he thought a young woman was her, but the tattoos on her arms gave her away. He made it to the end of this train cart and looked at the restrooms, both were labeled as unoccupied. Did she not board the train?

"Cazzo," he cursed under his breath, hitting his hand against one of the bathroom doors, before retreating. They couldn't hold the train up any longer or else this could become even more of a scene. "Trovata," he radioed in again. (Found her?) The guards all said no, much to his disappointment. He fucked up. "Sono stati fatti," he radioed in once more, before he stormed back down the aisle and nodded to the train attendant. (We are done.) The thirty guards cleared the platform leaving Salvatore. He stood there, watching the train depart once again. "Where did she go?"

His phone rang in his pocket, he pulled it out and answered. "Did you find her Salvatore?"

"No, your royal majesty," he said, his hand squeezing the phone, "Mi dispiace molto." (I am so sorry). Giovanni didn't say anything, he only let out a sigh before hanging up the phone. Giovanni had been in the back of a speeding car, hoping when he arrived at Bologna Chance would be there with that bashful smile and shouting out more American-isms. He was disappointed she wasn't on the train.

If she wasn't on the train, where was she?

=

The sound of a hand punching my restroom door made me jump. That voice sounds familiar, but then again, I think a lot of Italian men's voices sound familiar. Maybe all men who say "Cazzo" sound like Salvatore. I was not about to give up my location to some angry Italian man outside of my restroom door. Nope, no thank you sir!

I heard his footsteps retreating and before I knew it the train began moving again. The jerk of the movement made the restroom door slide open again. "Well, isn't that just handy," I grumbled, rolling my eyes. I went back to my seat noticing everyone was chatting amongst themselves. I wonder what I missed? It had to have been good. I looked out my window, trying to look back at the Bologna train station, but all I could see were what looked like several black cars driving away. "Hmm, what happened?"

When we finally arrived in Florence, I stayed in my seat, waiting as the attendant came around and gave our phones back. I waited and waited and waited, until I couldn't wait any longer. "Excuse me," I waved at the condescending phone charging man, "I haven't got my phone back."

"I gave everyone's phone back, signorina. You must not have put your phone there."

"WHAT," I shouted, jumping to my feet, "But...but I did! Remember, I gave you my phone to charge."

"I don't recall," he shrugged, "Please exit the train, we need to clean up for the next departure."

"But-"