In the glory days of the Roman Empire it was said all roads led to Rome. Now, thanks to the ultra-modern Italian Autostrade system, it was also possible to circumnavigate the ancient city using the A90 ring road. Due west of the city centre, a stone’s throw from the A90, Eamonn Mahoney lounged by the pool at the Holiday Inn, Aurelia. The diminutive Irishman tugged the bill of his cap lower to shield his eyes from the glare of the western sky. Off in the distance, a jetliner passed before the setting sun on its final approach to Leonardo da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport. In a scant few minutes, the giant orb would be gone and with it the remaining warmth of the day.
He reached for his glass of whiskey sitting on the small glass-topped table beside his rattan chair and checked the time. Six o’clock. The last of his agents would be arriving shortly. All five spent the previous night at various hotels scattered throughout the city of Turin, and with just seven hours driving ahead of them to their final destination, each leisurely made their way south.
Each of the five were also allocated an assigned hotel in Rome along with detailed instructions for the handover of their packages. Three hours previous, the first agent arrived in Rome eager to complete the operation and to enjoy the remainder of he and his wife’s holiday.
The tracking application on Eamonn’s phone showed the last of the five exiting the A90. A few minutes later, the vehicle pulled into the Holiday Inn parking lot. He drained the last few remaining drops of whiskey from his glass and sauntered inside. While settling his bill at the bar, he watched a middle-aged gentleman and his wife cross the lobby and approach the check-in desk. The room for the couple had been pre-paid. As had the rooms in Turin, the rental cars, and the ferry reservations, by an Import & Export Company registered in Guernsey. By lunchtime tomorrow, each agent would return their rental cars to the drop-off location at da Vinci-Fiumicino Airport, then were free to sightsee for the remainder of the week. For their return journey; Eamonn supplied flight tickets to Brussels and train passes to Calais to collect their vehicles for the drive back to Ireland. A courier also delivered a small cash advance, for travelling expenses, to each of the agents the week before the robberies. Their final payment made in the same fashion upon their return to Dublin. Eamonn left nothing to chance.
The couple at the desk, she slightly shorter than the man, received their key cards and were directed to the elevators. They shuffled off, suitcases in tow, looking weary after a long three days of travel. Eamonn turned in the opposite direction, through the hotel’s sliding glass doors and to the parking lot beyond. He located the late-model Citroen, with its Europcar sticker on the back window, in the next to last row. The front door was unlocked, as instructed, he quickly leant in and pulled the latch for the boot. Inside the boot, a backpack.
Eamonn smiled, it was such a pleasure working with professionals who could follow instructions to the letter. Unzipping the backpack a few centimetres, he checked the contents. Satisfied, he slung the cheap nylon carry-all over his shoulder, shut the boot and ambled across the lot to his own vehicle. There, he opened the boot and tossed in the carry-all next four others of identical design.
As he pulled out of the parking lot and headed east towards the city centre a mere ten kilometres away, Eamonn looked ahead to tomorrow’s meeting and the completion of a successful operation.
Darkness had fallen, and the Seven Hills of Rome cast a faint silhouette against the deepening gloom of the night sky. Ahead, lay Vatican City where the glow of lights from St Peter’s Square illuminated the spiritual home of the Catholic Church. In the back of the sedan lay close to €1.7 million, its purpose to illuminate a cause just as close to Eamonn’s heart.