Two officers were in the car, and one rolled his window down and addressed Steven.
“Pretty dark out for a walk, no?” he said.
Steven nodded. “We’re just out exploring, and the night rushed in on us.”
“Where are you headed?”
“To our hotel. It’s a nice evening for it,” Steven explained.
The cop looked Natalie over, then grunted. “Have a good one,” he said, and then they pulled off down the road.
Steven and Natalie let out audible exhalations and exchanged worried glances. They needed to make tracks and get out of the area.
After walking several hundred yards up a smaller street, they set off in the direction of the hotel. It took twenty-five minutes to make it, and the first thing Steven did once they were in their room was to carefully clean off the brass tablet. While Natalie watched him, he painstakingly photographed both sides so they’d have a record if they had to ditch it somewhere.
Natalie’s phone rang, startling them both. She checked the number and answered.
“Moody. Am I glad to hear from you,” she said.
“You sound odd, Natalie. What’s going on?” Moody asked.
Natalie explained about their missed rendezvous with Danny, the two mystery men, and the situation with the Roman police.
“Sounds like it’s time to leave Rome. Let me see what we have in the way of safe houses elsewhere in Italy and figure out how to get you some transportation. I’m staying at the St. Regis downtown. I’ll get on the horn and call you ba— wait a second. Natalie. Did Danny have your cell number?” Moody asked.
“Yes. We needed a way to stay in touch. I called him a little while ago but he didn’t answer.”
“Listen to me carefully. Get the numbers you need off your phone and dump it. Immediately. Call my hotel in four hours from a pay phone. I’m checked in under the name Stan Gardener. I’ll get you a new, clean cell. The Italian equivalent of the NSA has the ability to track cells to within a few feet, and we don’t know what kind of strings the group that’s after you can pull. Let’s assume they’ve got Danny and will have your number shortly, if they don’t already. That’s a very real danger. What about this guy you’re with? Does he have one?” Moody asked.
“Yes, but he hasn’t called anyone.”
“Same drill. Pull the contacts and lose it in a river. But treat this as a serious threat. Do it now. I’ll talk to you in four hours.”
Natalie explained about the phones after she’d finished the call.
“Shit. I know this stuff, Natalie. I’m just rusty. He’s right; we have to get rid of them immediately. I’ll send the photos to my PC, and then we’ll ditch the phones. We should probably check out of this hotel, too, just in case they start looking for places that are proximate to the catacombs.”
Natalie nodded and immediately set about packing her bag. She was done in two minutes. It took Steven a little longer while he sent the image files from his phone. Finished, he placed the plate into his duffel.
“Let’s get a cab. Any ideas?” Steven asked.
“I think we should grab dinner while we wait for Moody. I’ve heard dinner in Rome can take three hours, so let’s get near the St. Regis and find a place where we can blend in.”
“You’re on.”
They made their way down the stairs to the rear section of the hotel near the pool, where, after dunking them in the water, they disassembled the phones and jettisoned them in a dumpster by the hotel restaurant.
It took them thirty minutes to make it the few miles in the evening traffic, and when they got near the St. Regis, it turned out to be three blocks from their favorite train station. The driver pulled to the curb in front of a building with an elaborate façade. They paid him and exited, waiting until he’d pulled back into traffic before walking down the block to find a restaurant.
Danny’s head hung against his chest as blood drooled from his badly mangled face onto his shirt front. He struggled for breath, his lungs laboring to get air, each inhalation causing a white-hot lance of pain due to broken ribs. His hands were bound behind his back; he’d long since given up trying to free them.
He was going to die. That much he already knew. Everyone did eventually, but Danny never imagined it would be in this manner, over something he had no real part in. A small piece of his brain told him this wasn’t possible; it had to be some kind of horrible mistake — but the intensity of pain reminded him it was real. The big man had subjected him to far worse than he’d ever dreamed he could live through, and he had no hope left that he’d walk away.
Sia Amieri stepped towards him and slapped his face several times, bringing him back to full consciousness. Danny looked up, his eyes swollen nearly shut from the beating.
Amieri sneered. “I can make this last all night if you want. Again. The girl. Where is she staying? The phone number doesn’t answer. No more lies. How do you get in touch with her?” he demanded.
Danny didn’t know what he needed to say to make the agony end. He shook his head weakly.
Amieri slapped him. “I’m tiring of this. You gave me a number that’s no good. You told me stories. I sent two men to the place you said they would be and nobody showed. That, and there’s no catacomb anywhere — there’s no building or entrance where you said you dropped them off, just a private vineyard. My patience for your lies is at an end. Tell me where you are supposed to meet them, or so help me God you’ll wish you’d never been born.” Amieri watched the bloody froth bubble from Danny’s nose, noting the light pink color. A rib must have punctured a lung. The man wasn’t going to take much more. “Tell me what I want to know, and I’ll get you to a hospital. I’ll drop you at the emergency room, and you’ll live. You’ll see another birthday, or maybe another anniversary with your wife?” Amieri glanced at the wedding band. “Or your mistress?”
Danny wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him more than anything. But there was nothing to tell, beyond what he’d already said. Danny had admitted that he’d been given the girl’s contact information by his CIA handler, whom he knew only as David, and had run the errands for her as instructed. He’d even given up the location of the safe house, but nothing seemed to satisfy his torturer.
Amieri slammed him in the head again with a bear-like hand, rupturing his eardrum and causing blinding pain, then he moved away from Danny with a look of disgust. He fished a cell phone out of his pants pocket and made a call.
Morbius Frank answered with a barrage of questions. Amieri struggled to answer them.
“No, there’s nothing new on the girl. The investigator insists he’s told us everything. I passed her phone number on to the contact you gave me, and he should have a fix on the location any minute. But beyond that, I dispatched two men to the supposed rendezvous spot and there’s nothing there but dark vines and an old gate. No girl.” Amieri hesitated before telling Dr. Frank the worst news. “He says he got the girl’s contact information from a CIA operative. Known only as David.”
Frank digested the revelation. CIA changed everything, increasing the danger level as well as the possible resources the professor’s daughter had at her disposal.
“CIA? Hmm. Not completely surprising, given what we now know about her background. We must proceed carefully. Finish this and dispose of the body so it won’t be found for a few days. And call me as soon as you have news. This isn’t going well, my son. You must be faster, yet more cautious. New players on the board are not a good thing for us. We cannot afford to lose this game. Am I completely clear?”