Even now, people as powerful as they were could be asking questions, getting close. And the thief who’d actually stolen the staff? What had happened to the thief? He’d forgotten to ask them.
He looked at the latest weather service assessment of the storm he was building. No one was concerned, everyone predicted it would move from the coast into the Atlantic and out to sea, never touching the United States.
They were wrong.
Jason decided to hold off on the hurricane in the Gulf, since he couldn’t predict what catastrophe the twins might spawn next. Best reprogram the storm, make a bit of a diversion for the world’s eyes.
Finally, he was done. He sat back in his chair, rubbed his hand over his eyes. He was tired, beyond tired, and depressed. Three thousand lives lost and he still didn’t know where Helen was. He wondered if he’d ever know.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ospedale San Giovanni e Paolo
Venice, Italy
Lieutenant Caldoni came into the waiting room, accompanied by another soldier, clearly his superior.
Nicholas looked at the face of the man behind Caldoni and knew it was Major Russo.
Russo stood at attention and said in excellent English, “I am Maggiore Salvadore Russo. I know you are upset that we were not in the piazza at the scheduled moment. We were unavoidably detained by a civil emergency, and we were called away by our superiors.”
Nicholas said, “I trust the civil emergency was satisfactorily resolved?”
“Of course. We are looking into the situation at San Marco. I apologize for the inconvenience. We are all greatly relieved that no civilians were hurt.”
Mike stood, ripped off her jacket, and showed them where a bullet
had ripped through her jacket and shirt beneath, barely missing her. “One of our agents is in surgery. And see this? This was too close.”
Russo gave her an impatient look, and his voice was cold. “Did you not understand me, signorina? I explained to you what happened.” Then he had the gall to shrug. “It is regrettable.”
Mike shrugged back into her jacket. “We’re finished here. I’m going to go check on Lia.” She paused at the doorway. “Major Russo, our superior, President Bradley, will not be pleased about your supposed civil emergency.” Then she stalked out.
It was an excellent shot. Major Russo drew back, and finally, he nodded.
So Major Russo could be intimidated. Nicholas took a step closer. “Agent Caine is right. You failed us, Major Russo, and I ask myself why this happened.”
“Do I really need to repeat myself, Agent Drummond? This incident is very disturbing. This Fox, this thief, it is obvious to me that she set you up. She is obviously very dangerous indeed, to you and to everyone in the piazza.”
“The Fox wasn’t behind this.”
Russo said, a sneer in full bloom, “Surely you do not believe what you say. This woman is a dangerous criminal. She is wanted here in Venice for the vicious murder of a member of our city council and his wife. It would be a coup for me—for our country—to apprehend her. There is no one else who could be behind this attack.”
Nicholas remembered Kitsune’s elegant Italian curses when she’d told him they’d even framed her for the murder of the owners of the “drop” house. He didn’t say anything.
Russo continued, and now his hands were fists. “Attend me, Agent. We have counted seven dead Italians, no dead Americans. It is we who have suffered violent death, not you. If there are questions about culpability, you must address them.”
Nicholas said, “The way I see it, we’ve helped you eliminate seven of your lowest criminals with great risk to our own lives. You’re welcome.”
Russo drew himself up to his full height, all those medals on his chest glinting in the light, the pompous little toff. “I am detaining you, Agent Drummond, until the particulars are sorted out. You will give me your weapons for ballistics analysis.” He nodded to Caldoni, who looked from Russo’s face to Nicholas’s. He didn’t look happy. He took a small step forward.
Nicholas laughed. “No, you won’t be detaining us, Major Russo, and we will not hand over our weapons. There is an active threat against us, and we will not go unarmed. Especially when we can’t count on your people to provide assistance.”
“You will do as I say, Agent Drummond, I am in charge here, not you. Who are you calling?”
“My boss, the president of the United States.”
Russo turned to stone. “How can a lowly policeman like you know the president?”