"It happens all the time. I had a friend who was working in Poland who was exposed by a stupid statement from a visiting congressman on the intelligence sub-committee. They found my friend the next day-what was left of him."
"Where do we go from here?" Kurt asked.
"Well, for one thing you can't report back to the Roosevelt. We don't know if you've been compromised, but we have to assume that you have."
"I need to talk to Murphy."
"No problem. You can use the secure phone."
Kurt sat on the edge of the desk and punched in the number from memory.
The phone rang on the other end three times, and then Kurt recognized Captain Murphy's "Hello."
"Whisky One," Kurt said. He heard a click on the other end that sounded like the receiver being placed down, but was only Captain Murphy keying his phone to secure mode.
"Kurt, I'm glad you called," Murphy said. "I guess you got my message at the embassy?"
"Yes, sir!"
"I'm sorry about that Goddamn Under Secretary. I want that guy's balls. I had just briefed the Secretary on our technology breach that afternoon. That other bureaucrat had to be there because he deals with acquisitions and special programs."
"I see."
"Well, the Secretary pressured me on what my plan of attack was, who and what agencies were involved, and how much time I needed to wrap up the case," Murphy said. "I told them as little as possible without getting my butt in a sling, and I thought that was the end of it. Later that evening at a party the Under Secretary shot off his mouth."
"Sir, I understand the company rep from Florida knows about the technology transfer now," Kurt said. "Do you think they know about me and Toni?"
"Kurt, I can't honestly say. I got to the guy and shut him up as soon as I could, but I have no idea how much he gave away."
"So we have to assume the worst?"
"Yes! That would be most prudent," Murphy answered.
"I won't return to the Roosevelt then," Kurt said. "Sir, could you make up some bogus story and send it to my squadron on the ship?"
"No problem. I'll have a message sent from Naples saying you were placed in the hospital there after being hit by a taxi, and will be flown back to the states once you're stable."
"Thanks, sir. Is there anything else you need from us?"
"Yes! What have you two come up with?" Murphy asked.
Kurt thought for a moment. "Sir, Petty Officer Shelby Taylor is our low man, and Lt. Budd is our drop artist," Kurt said. "There are a few other minor players on board the Roosevelt, but we're still trying to reel in the main fish. Request permission to remain ashore and help Special Agent Contardo with the investigation here?"
"Permission granted, Ensign Lamar."
"Thank you, sir."
"Keep in touch every few days if you can."
"Yes, sir."
The line went blank on the other end.
As Kurt was finishing his conversation with Captain Murphy, Toni had logged onto her computer and was accessing the Italian Telephone Company with her modem.
"Well? Who owns that number?" Kurt asked.
"Patience, kid. Rome wasn't built in a day," she said sarcastically.
Toni's fingers whipped across the computer keyboard like a journalist's on deadline. Kurt watched closely until the telephone number popped on the screen followed by an address. They looked at each other in disbelief.
"Holy shit!" Kurt said. "Why in the hell is the U.S. Commerce Department involved in something like this?"
A smile came across Toni's face as she logged off the computer. She shook her head.
"What do you find so funny?" Kurt asked.
"I don't know. I guess it figures," Toni said. "A lot of times we end up running across the path of another agency. It can get frustrating. Especially if you've been working a case for a few months."
"But why would the Commerce Department run an operation like this?" Kurt asked.
"They aren't, kid. There must be a rogue."
Kurt sat down on a typing chair backwards and swiveled around a few times. "What is the Commerce Department doing with an office in Italy?"
"I don't know," Toni said. "They could be here to keep track of all the new American companies opening offices. They're all trying to carve a piece of the pie when and if the European Community unifies. Those companies with a strong foothold have a chance to make big bucks."
"How are we going to find out who's been stealing our technology?"
Toni patted Kurt on the back and then left her hand on his shoulder. "Stick with me, kid. As you've seen, I have ways of making them talk," she said.
Kurt looked up at Toni. Her eyes had a sparkle, he thought, that could tame the wildest beast. Kurt put his hand on hers.
CHAPTER 16
Sirens echoed back and forth adding chaos to the normal sounds of rush hour traffic. Cars reluctantly pulled to the sides of the busy roads allowing the ambulance to barely squeeze by. Polizia on Moto Guzzi motorcycles weaved onward through the clustered maze that had formed.
What was once a tranquil sidewalk cafe, was now turned into a horrid scene of destruction. Glass table tops had been shattered and scattered over fifty feet like shrapnel. Bodies lay helplessly on the sidewalk with blood oozing and spurting from countless jagged cuts. A lone, old robust woman screamed and prayed aloud as she held her black rosary close to her chest, repeatedly crossing herself.
Polizia and Carabiniere cordoned off the area and started searching the buildings.
The ambulance crew arrived and started attending to the only survivor-a man in an expensive suit that did nothing to protect him against the blast and flying glass.
A middle aged man with dark curly hair in a black double breasted suit paced back and forth pointing and shouting orders. Inspector Bruno Gallano was Genoa's terrorist expert. He stood quietly by himself for a moment and scratched the five o'clock stubble on the right side of his face. Finally, he waved his assistant over to him.
"What do the people say happened?" Gallano asked his assistant in Italian.
"Mixed reports," said his assistant. "But it appears to be a terrorist attack by the Red Brigade."
"Why?"
"Electronic device with plastic explosives. Similar to the Rome Train Station. Only one thing is different. They used a remote control car."
"How?"
"Well, a remote control Porsche came from up the sidewalk there," the assistant said pointing up the street. "Nobody touched it as it weaved in and out of the people on the sidewalk. Then witnesses say the car took a right turn here and stopped under the table of four men. It was there for only a second before blowing."
The two men sidestepped all the debris and positioned themselves over the remains of four bodies covered by blood-soaked sheets.
"Any identification on these four?" Bruno asked, lifting the sheet of one and viewing what was left of a previously healthy male, and then lowering the sheet.
"Yes! The glass and metal did a number on the fronts of their bodies, but their backs were pretty much intact. They all had wallets."
"Well?" Bruno said, becoming impatient. "Who are they?"
"All American sailors."
"Shit! That's all we need," Bruno said. "We've got the USS Roosevelt in port for its first visit, and we have a fucking international terrorist incident."
Bruno Gallano scanned the scene one more time to perhaps convince himself that it wasn't happening. But the reality of four American bodies lay at his feet. The three additional Italian corpses lay further away. Bruno knew that one death was as important as the next, but the Americans would be harder to explain. It changed things from a municipal problem to an international incident. He could do without that kind of notoriety, he thought.