D’Amore caught up with Colomba at the food truck. He was wearing a cap with a photograph of the pope and in one hand he was carrying a pamphlet listing the initiatives of the Order of Malta.
“Did you find him?” he asked.
She shook her head. “I looked under the tent and all around the various stands.”
“If he’d been dragged away against his will, one of my men would have seen it. Could he have left voluntarily?”
“I hope so.” The phantom pain in her belly was so strong that Colomba was forced to crouch. “Still, I can’t help but think that Leo organized all this to get him back. I know that’s crazy, but everything that’s happened is crazy. God …”
“Falcon Four,” said the radio.
“Go on,” D’Amore replied.
“There’s a woman who matches the target’s description. She’s dressed as a nurse and she’s pushing a wheelchair with a man whose features we haven’t been able to get a sighting on, but he could be the hostage. In the area around the tour bus parking lot. Eleven o’clock.”
“Everyone converge but maintain safe distance. Eagle, do you see anything?”
“Negative, we’re blocked by the ropeway conveyor.”
D’Amore put a hand over the microphone. “Are you going to come or do you want to stay here and wait for Dante?” he asked.
Colomba planted her fingernails into her palms until drops of blood appeared.
“Let’s go,” she said.