Fifteen minutes later, he pulled to a halt on Via Ottavio, a quiet residential street in Ostia.
“One thousand,” he said, turning with his hand held out expectantly.
“The meter says thirty euros,” I remarked.
He scowled and waved his phone menacingly. “Police.”
“You know why they’re hunting me,” I said, leaning forward so my face was inches from his. “They say I killed a priest. Go ahead and make the call, Paolo Sachetto.” I gestured at his license displayed on the dash. “My friends and I will know exactly where to find you.”
His bravado crumbled. I handed him fifty euros.
“A generous tip for such a comfortable ride,” I said, before getting out.
“Remind me never to cross you,” Faduma said as she joined me on the sidewalk.
We waited for the taxi to leave before heading for Via Orazio, ten minutes away. We walked on arm-in-arm, playing the part of lovers coming home from a date.
As we got closer to the cell-phone store, we feigned chit-chat but were in fact pointing out potential risks to one another.
“Van, twenty feet from the store,” Faduma said, touching my arm as though she was telling me how much she loved me.
“I see it,” I replied, and we crossed the street and walked behind the empty market stalls opposite the terrace where the store was located.
Faduma was nearest the van and kept her head turned toward me, providing me with good cover so I wasn’t easy to see from the vehicle. But by leaning around her briefly, I caught a glimpse of two men in the cab, their faces lit by the glow of the gaudy lights in the store window.
“It’s not the cops,” I said, surprised by the fact I recognized the men. “I know these two. They were at the Inferno. They’re members of the Dark Fates.”
We walked more quickly and took a left down Via Stefano Cansacchi.
“Why aren’t the police watching the apartment? Why is it being staked out by gangsters?” Faduma asked.
“My guess is the Rome police force is even more compromised than we thought,” I replied. “Someone high up must have told the cops to back off in order to give these guys a clear run.”
We stopped and turned to look back at the bright lights of the cell-phone store.
“They’re going to have at least one pair of eyes on the rear of the building too,” I said. “So I’m going to need you to create a distraction.”
Chapter 71
Faduma was able to buy almost everything we needed from the cell-phone store. She got the two-liter bottle of soda from a mini-mart down the street, emptied the contents into a drain, and followed the instructions I’d given her. Phone-cleaning cloths soaked in lighter fluid, fused lithium cell-phone batteries stuck in the bottle with its top cut off, and matches were all it took to create the distraction.
I watched her approach the van from the rear, strike a match and set the device on fire. The cleaning cloths caught instantly and she shoved the device under the rear wheel, beneath the fuel cap, and ran.
The guy in the passenger seat noticed the flames first and alerted his companion. Both men jumped out of the vehicle and ran to the burning device, which wasn’t what I’d had in mind because the batteries would be unstable and could explode at any moment.
But I took advantage of the distraction and hurried across the street and down the alleyway that led to the metal stairs behind the building. As I glanced over at the van, I saw the passenger hurl the flaming device across the street. It exploded in mid-air, knocking both men down, shattering nearby car windows and setting alarms ringing.
I raced into the darkness of the alley and encountered a man coming the other way. I had no doubt it was a Dark Fates lookout drawn to the explosion. He almost ran into me, but I saw his silhouette against the light beyond the alleyway and swung at him. My fist connected with tremendous force, his own momentum carrying him into the punch, and he groaned and fell instantly.
I stepped over him and ran on, reaching the rear of the building. There was no one else around, so I climbed the stairs carefully and found the front door of the apartment ajar.
I took a moment to catch my breath and compose myself before creeping inside. The hallway was dark but there was low light coming from the living room. I moved cautiously and silently toward it.
I could hear the sound of chaos rising from the street, car alarms, people shouting, and in the distance approaching sirens.
I didn’t have long.
When I craned my head round the door frame, I saw the silhouette of a man at the window, watching the street outside. Sci’s and Mo-bot’s computers were on the table and had been connected to a hard drive. I could see status bars on both screens showing the progress of data being downloaded.
I moved toward the man at the window, noting the fleur-de-lys tattoo on his forearm that marked him out as a member of Propaganda Tre. He must have sensed me because he turned and tried to pull a gun from his waistband.
I rushed forward, blocked his draw and headbutted him. As he staggered back I kicked his knee, causing him to hunch over, and drove an uppercut into his chin with so much power his head snapped up and his eyes rolled back, before he fell in a heap.
I looked out the window to see flashing blue lights rising above the buildings a few streets away.
I grabbed Sci’s holdall from the bedroom, put the laptops inside along with the hard drive, and then stuffed the bag with all the surveillance gear I could fit inside, before slinging it over my shoulder and racing out of the apartment.
I ran along the alleyway, avoiding the fallen gang member, and emerged onto the street as the first police car rounded the corner.
I went the other way, heading west, and passed the two Dark Fates members who were lying on their backs in the road, trying to come to their senses.
I walked on as tires screeched behind me. I saw the cop car pull to a halt and the two officers jump out. Behind them came more cars, and locals who had been watching from their windows drifted into the street as the area became a major crime scene.
“Jack,” Faduma whispered.
I saw her hiding in the shadows of a doorway near the intersection with Via Stefano Cansacchi.
She joined me as I passed and together we marched to the corner.
“Everything okay?” she asked, glancing back.
I nodded.
“I got what we came for,” I said as we hurried into the night.
Chapter 72
“I’ve never known anyone need a second safehouse so quickly,” Valentina said. “You’re quite a celebrity here in Rome.”
I shifted awkwardly as we waited for the Italian hacker’s friend Amr Badawi to unlock the roll shutter of the warehouse that was to be my new temporary home.
“The clever stray is the one who isn’t seen,” Amr added, and I tried not to take offense at him comparing me to a dog.
“Yes,” I conceded. “My notoriety is less than ideal. And I’m sorry about your other place.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Amr replied, working the rusty lock. “The police haven’t linked anything to the apartment. They think the Dark Fates were planning a hit on someone, and if there was police involvement in letting the gang conduct surveillance, whoever was behind it is not going to come forward with the truth.”
Amr managed to force the lock and opened the smaller of two roll shutters at the front of this seemingly deserted warehouse. It was just big enough for people to enter the building, while the larger twenty-foot-wide shutter next to it was clearly designed for freight.
Amr switched on the lights as we stepped inside and illuminated a 60x100-foot space filled with boxes of LCD screens and other electronics.
“One of the places I keep stock,” he explained. “Please don’t damage anything.”