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The Castello Normanno Svevo di Cosenza occupied a grassy plateau atop Pancrazio Hill, a sizable rise that was not so tall as to justify calling it a mountain. Maddock had done his research on the landmark back at the inn, and now, as he and Bones walked up the footpath leading to its main entrance, he mentally reviewed what he had learned.
The Saracens, a group of European Christian writers, had built the castle in the tenth century, and since then it had been through many additions, remodels and retrofits. One of these was a pair of octagonal towers, one of which was still present and visible to Maddock now as he squinted up at the castle. Its role over the centuries varied considerably, from serving as home to Emperor Frederick II and his son Henry VII, to Louis III, to use as a prison in the 1500s and 1600s. Earthquakes damaged the castle sometime during this period, rendering the structure unfit for use. A century later, however, new additions were made by Archbishop Capece Galeota, who transformed the property into a seminary. During the 1800s the castle was used as a fort as well as a prison again, and once again, earthquakes did more damage.
To Maddock it was a miracle the place was still standing at all.
“We going in or do you just want to stand here and admire the architectural beauty of it all?” Bones prodded. Maddock looked up at the stone walls—some of them in good shape and with tile roofs on top, while others were mere crumbling facades of their former selves.
“We’re going in, Bones, but we can’t just waltz in through the main gate like everybody else.” By “everybody else,” Maddock meant the single family of three that was strolling along the main walkway, ahead of them, about to enter the castle’s front gate. The place was open to tourists, but traffic was pretty light.
“Ah, the sewer system, right?”
Maddock nodded. “Where else? Seriously, it leads to the dungeon, which is in the basement section of the castle, off-limits to the public.”
“So we’ve got to tunnel in like rats.”
“Now you’re getting it. Come on, let’s look around for the entrance. Try not to make it too obvious.” Maddock proceeded to stray a bit from the manicured path. His research had informed him that there should be a sewer entrance that looks sort of like a capped well, with a metal cover of some sort. Expecting it may very well be overgrown, he eyed the vegetation carefully. A mixture of tall grasses and slightly overgrown hedges bordered the main walkway and extended out from there. Bones began to look around also, his unwavering gaze probing the foliage for any anomaly that might indicate the presence of an entrance.
Maddock continued his way along the path, rooting into clumps of bushes here and there while Bones ventured farther afield, well away from the beaten path. Maddock grew concerned.
“You’ll attract attention before long out there.”
Bones put a finger to his lips. “I hear something.”
Maddock said nothing while he waited for Bones to figure out what it was. The Indian turned his head slightly in either direction, then fixated on a spot. “Running water. Hold on, this is worth the risk to check out.”
Maddock paralleled him from the path as Bones walked toward the castle, but out in the untended foliage. After a few meters he crouched and looked around again, then low crawled through some shrubs until he called out barely loud enough for Maddock to hear. “Got something.”
Maddock looked casually around to see if anyone was observing them, but if they were, he couldn’t tell. He strayed from the walkway and moved quickly to Bones’ location in the middle of untamed plant growth. His friend was shoving aside an unruly collection of brambles while duck-walking a step at a time deeper inside what was clearly an opening into the ground.
“It goes through to something,” Bones said swiping more thickets out of his way.
“Right behind you.” Maddock took one last 360-degree glance around, and seeing nothing, followed Bones into the earth. The dank smell of wet soil permeated the air as the two ex-warriors followed a downward gradient. The sound of flowing water grew louder as they made their way deeper into the opening; Maddock thought of it as a culvert.
“This must be it,” he told Bones, who flicked on his flashlight and illuminated the space they now found themselves in. The running water was not deep. Bones stepped through it without getting his ankles wet, although the stream did take up the entire culvert, sort of like a drain pipe. Ahead, the conduit stretched out of sight at a slight downward incline.
The pair of former SEALs followed the wet tunnel for perhaps a hundred yards, until they came to a fork. One of the branches went down sharply, almost like a waterfall, while the other continued straight ahead. Maddock surveyed them both for a few seconds before giving his thoughts. “This one that stays flat looks like it heads back to the castle ground floor.
“Restroom overflow?” Bones surmised.
“While this one,” Maddock continued after making a face, “definitely looks like it could lead to the dungeon. It goes deeper, that much is for sure.”
Bones walked right up to the edge and shone his light over the drop, emitting a low whistle. “That’s a nice little plunge, I’d say fifty feet.”
Maddock caught up to him and leaned out also. “It’s not vertical. Let’s go.” He sat on the edge of the precipice and then pushed off with his hands, sliding down the watery drop. Bones followed suit and Maddock knew it must have taken all of his restraint not to let out a whooping holler. The need for silence on a mission had been instilled into him during his time in the SEALs, though, and so he made the exhilarating slide in complete silence, the big grin on his face the only indication he was having fun.
They hit the bottom hard enough to not be able to stay on their feet, but not so hard as to sustain any injuries. Rank water flowed through the passage, and a bevy of rats scurried away from the cone of light as Maddock directed his flashlight down the sewer.
“Stinks to high heaven in here.”
“I’ve smelled worse,” Bones said. “One time in Tijuana I met this chick...”
“I get the picture. Let’s move out.”
The pair picked their way down the sewer, seeking out occasional dry spots as stepping stones while avoiding the rats, some as large as footballs. “I don’t see any trash down here,” Bones observed. “No cans or broken bottles or anything. When I was a kid this would have made the perfect hangout.”
“Could be a sign we’re on the right track if no one ever comes down here. I see some kind of wall up ahead.” They were now deep into the sewer and without flashlights it would be pitch black. They came to the wall Maddock had seen—it was made of stone with a metal grating set vertically into it, from which water flowed out. The spacing between the metal bars was far too small for a person to fit through. Maddock tested the bars by pulling on them. Although they wouldn’t budge, he noted they were rusted and weak.
“Maybe we could take some kind of tool to it,” Maddock suggested.
“I’ve got just the thing.” Bones shrugged out of his pack and rummaged inside it while Maddock provided light. After a few seconds Bones produced an average sized claw hammer.
“Seriously?” Maddock asked. “You walk around with a hammer in your pack?”
“I said I have just the thing. Not kidding. It’s a little heavy for every day carry, but you’d be surprised at the jams it gets me out of.”
Maddock shook his head. “Not surprised at all, actually. Go ahead. Hopefully it gets us out of this one.”
Bones stepped up to the grate and swung the hammer at one of its bars, which cracked on the first hit. He repeated the process on several neighboring bars and then Maddock kicked them out of the way with his boot. It would still be a tight fit, but there was now room for a man to squeeze through if he was careful about it. “I’ll go first,” Bones said. “If I can make it, we know it won’t be a problem for a little guy like you.”
Maddock shook his head at Bones’ jab. “I’m six feet, Bones. Little guy? Really?”
Bones grinned as he passed through the twisted metal cage easily. He chuckled to himself as he stalked off into the darkness, flashlight illuminating a sewer that was wider but with a lower ceiling than the one on the other side of the grate. They walked straight for a few minutes until a waterfall cascaded from above. They paused in front of it.
“What do you know?” Bones said, “A literal waterfall of crap!”
Maddock shone his light beam through the curtain of falling sewage. “I think there’s something back there.
Bones, who had been gazing upward at where the sewage came down from, now followed Maddock’s light. “I hope so, because we’re not getting up there, even with ropes.”
“I don’t think we’ll have to. I hope this sewage is pre-treated, though, because we will have to get wet.”
Bones groaned. “It really is Tijuana all over again. What are we dropping into?”
Maddock studied what he could see through the curtain of foul-smelling liquid. “Not sure. Looks like a solid floor about ten feet below, though.”
“Good enough for me. Wait, did you say floor? As opposed to ground?”
Maddock shrugged. “It looks pretty smooth. I can’t really say for sure.”
“Only one way to find out.” Bones leaped through the waterfall.
And then Maddock thought he heard something. He called down to Bones in a voice he hoped was loud enough to overcome the falling water but not so loud as to be heard by whoever it was he heard talking. “Turn off your light.”
Maddock looked behind him to see if anyone was approaching from the same way they had, but things were still in that direction. He looked back down the drop to see Bone’s swatch of light go dark. “Move left, Bones. I’m jumping right.” Maddock took the plunge, slipping through the falling stream on the right side, hoping Bones had heard him so that he didn’t land on his friend.
His feet impacted the wet floor—it was a floor, he couldn’t help but think in a flash—safely away from Bones, who crouched a few feet back in the darkness. As soon as he situated himself, Maddock saw that Bones was pointing straight ahead into the distance. Where the voices were a little louder.
The two crept closer, one hugging each wall. In here a channel was dug into the floor where the sewage ran, leaving a narrow but dry aisle on either side. Aside from not having to trudge through sewage, this meant they could move more quietly, avoiding the splash of water. The voices grew louder and soon Maddock could make out two men talking. Shortly after that, he could see them. Neither wore a uniform of any kind, but both carried automatic weapons along with holstered pistols. Whatever it was they were guarding, Maddock thought, it must be serious.
They still weren’t quite close enough to make out the words of the conversation, but soon one of the men nodded to the other, turned around and left. He walked deeper into the underground complex, which widened to a roughly square shape where the guards were standing.
Maddock motioned to Bones to move ahead. The Indian acknowledged the signal with a nod, the resolve in his eyes not visible in the darkness. For the first few steps the guard still faced away from them, watching his associate leave the room into a side passage or hallway until he was out of sight. But when they were a mere twenty feet or so from the guard, he suddenly wheeled around on a heel.
Maddock and Bones froze in place, well aware that the guard carried a flashlight on his utility belt. He didn’t use it, though, only stared into the darkness for a couple of seconds and then turned back around. Maddock saw his hand disappear into his pocket and he tensed, wondering if the guard had in fact spotted them and was now pulling out a gun after pretending like he hadn’t seen anything. But the glow of a smartphone materialized instead. And then a new worry for Maddock: was he calling for backup, or to report suspicious activity down here? Yet the guard also carried a walkie-talkie on his belt. And then he saw the man tapping away on his phone screen, swiping through web pages like so many relaxed workers during a spot of downtime. No, Maddock thought, he’s not alert to our presence, he’s only surfing the web.
That was when Maddock noticed the guard’s earpiece, the coiled wire leading from it to the radio clipped to his belt. They would have to be very careful. He might have a lip mic, too; it was too dark to tell from this distance. Maddock began moving again, very slowly, silently, toward the room the man guarded. He saw Bones doing the same on the opposite side of the sewer, wraith-like in his movements.
The guard never really had a chance. The pair of ex-SEALs converged on the man while he paced lazily away from them. Maddock went high and Bones came in low; the guard was laid out flat and unconscious in four seconds, without so much as a gasp. Bones relived him of his weapons, tucking the pistol into his own waistband as a backup, but tossing the automatic into the sewer. Maddock, meantime, took the headset and radio, hoping to catch some intel that would help them find out what exactly they were up against.
Then he signaled to Bones they should move deeper into the complex, and the two moved out in the direction where the fallen guard’s associate had gone. Hallways stretched out both to the left and straight ahead, but it was what lay to their right that immediately captured their attention. A spacious room ringed by barred cells. Occupying the main space were medieval instruments of torture that appeared far too new to be original.
On one of the devices, Lina was stretched out on a metal rack. Above her hands was poised a wicked-looking blade. It was all Maddock and Bones could do not to rush to her aid on sight, but standing over her was a powerfully-built, hideously scarred man. Maddock and Bones recognized him immediately. “Issachar,” Maddock whispered.
Maddock felt Bones tensing, about to spring. Maddock eyeballed their trajectory to the disfigured captor. Satisfied he had picked out the course that afforded him with the greatest likelihood of success, he planted his back foot to spring off of.
And that was when Issachar looked right at them. He smiled and said, “My old friends! Welcome.”