“Fly in an elite team of our own to take on theirs? Eagle House would become a battleground.”
“Temporarily. She has been restored before. She can be rebuilt again.”
“If my superiors were to suspect I was manipulating them—”
“How can they? Everything you tell them is the truth.”
Dr Romano stands abruptly. Unusually for him, he leans across the table and holds out a hand for me to shake. I stand and return the gesture, sealing some kind of unspoken contract.
“Go and pack. I will meet you out front. Once I drop you off at the airport, I do not expect to hear from you until you havecompleted your assignment. Unless you encounter problems and need urgent assistance.”
“That will not happen. Before I go, can I speak to Lorenzo—”
“No, Aksel. We need to leave now.”
“Dr Romano—”
“Listen. You must be careful with Lorenzo. He is a young man filled with deep passion. He has a temper that is quick to rise and a loyalty that cements just as fast and just as deeply. I know this from the connection he has formed with Mrs Bellacci. I sense a different kind of bond between the two of you, something more profound. Maybe that has something to do with you being of a similar age. Let me just add that I wholeheartedly approve. It will serve you well in the field. But you must never put the mission before the person.”
I should be surprised by his words. Lorenzo and I thought we were being discreet around the villa, but perhaps our behaviour gave us away.
“I know him, Aksel, and if I tell him I need you to do this task alone, without his help, he will fight me on the decision. You must be the one to convince him. Do this via text message or a short call once you are away from here. If you speak to him now, he will argue and delay our departure. He may be hurt for a time, but will recover quicker and better this way. Do you understand?”
“I do.”
Between packing and heading to Romano’s SUV, I spot Mrs Bellacci through the kitchen window, but Lorenzo is nowhere to be seen. As we drive away, I cannot shake the cold dread that I may never see him again.
Chapter Sixteen
London
Maybe I’ve been away from England for too long. A little over two hours’ flight and the contrast of climates could not be more striking. London’s streets of monotonous rain and dark alleyways feel both familiar and alien. Have I been seduced by the sun and relative tranquillity of Monticiano? Perhaps. At least I have a clean hotel room for a few nights. The prepaid room is ten floors below the suite where my target will be staying. Ironically, Callico House is within walking distance. Josh and Nishan’s house is a mere thirty-minute Tube ride away.
But I won’t go anywhere near either.
I manage to sleep in the armchair for a couple of hours. Not knowing whether Dr Romano is an early riser, I head out for an early breakfast to a quiet café tucked away down a side street behind the hotel and put off ringing him until the relatively more civilised time of six-thirty—seven-thirty central European time.
He answers his secure line after only one ring.
“Aksel.” The concern in his voice is palpable. “What happened? Is there a problem?”
“No problem,” I answer. I keep my tone flat, not wanting my voice to give anything away. I want to know what he has to say. “Why would you think that?”
“You have only been in London one night.”
“I wanted to report in. And to find out if you’ve received the file you promised to send over.”
The doctor had promised to forward me an official file on Sylvie Leblanc from a close contact in the French intelligence services rather than the British. Romano, too, is a shrewd strategist.
“Please concentrate on the task I set for you. Once that is completed, I will send you everything I have. I do not want you distracted until then.”
“In which case, the job is done. But can I suggest that, in future, you advise your operatives not to leave their jackets with official identities in the pockets, hanging over the backs of chairs in their hotel rooms. Mrs Bellacci would have torn Agent Stefano Gaultieri to shreds. Not only is his identity and security pass tucked into his wallet, but he keeps his passcodes written on the back of a business card. Not particularly professional.”
Not only that, but the sloppy agent had a folded printout of an encrypted email of instructions from oneDottoreGiuseppe Romano,Ispettore Superiore, Agenzia Informazioni e Sicurezza Esterna. I took a screenshot of the email on my phone and used an online translator to get a sense of the content. From what I could piece together, Romano had called on his agent to drop whatever he was doing in South Africa and fly to England.
“You—? Have you already completed the mission? You were supposed to observe—”
“That was not the objective, merely your suggestion as a precaution. And I imagine it would be a pretty sensible one under normal circumstances, but ultimately, one I didn’t need. Instead, I improvised.”