48

The two carloads of Italian thugs left their positions outside the villa and met Reese’s team on the road to Brunate. They were parked in a turnout meant for tourists. Four of the brutes emerged from their cars when Reese’s van pulled in and stopped. Their appearance slowed traffic and dragged the tourists’ attention away from the billion-dollar view.

Trace said, “What is Italian for low profile?”

Reese said, “Radio your second team. Tell them to proceed to target.”

Trace touched his earpiece and relayed the orders. A second van roared past and continued up the hill.

The men who approached their van might have been dressed in suits. But as far as disguises went, their clothes were about as useful as shoving a bazooka in a shoulder holster. Two men took up station by Trace’s door. A third approached her window. He reeked of menace. He offered her a cell phone and said, “My capo wants a word.”

She accepted the phone, but before she could speak, another man shoved his way forward. This one was slightly more polished, a typical security chief. But his attitude was just as bad. He snarled, “We go no matter what the Russky says.”

Reese noted the anger between the two groups with some heat of her own. “You’re not together?”

The security guy made as to spit at the ground by the other man’s feet. “They work for the Ukrainians, they’re good with the ladies. My capo is boss in Como, not this Russky Prince. You say go, signora, we go.”

The first thug had a few choice things to say about that, none of which required translating.

Trace said, “Do you believe this?”

Reese lifted the phone and said, “Did you catch that little exchange?”

The Prince sighed. “My sincere apologies. The man addressing you is cousin to the one who killed himself for disappointing me. There are issues. I will clear them up.”

“When, next week?”

“No, no, immediately. As soon as we finish, I will call the Como boss. He will speak with this gentleman. Now to the matter at hand. I understand you wish for this attack to go ahead.”

“That is correct.”

“In broad daylight?”

“If that’s what you call this.” A damp wind blew hard through the van. Overhead, the sky wore a uniform grey. “We have a very tight window of opportunity. The crew in Brunate is blind.”

“I do not understand.”

“We intercepted a cell phone conversation between one of the Italian students and his girlfriend. Their ability to view forward has been lost.”

“You are certain this was not a ruse?”

“It’s a risk. But a small one. The odds are in our favor.”

The Prince hesitated, then said, “I will speak with the Como boss.”

“You have five minutes,” Reese said, her gaze on the two men outside her window. She cut the connection, handed back the phone, and said, “Here’s how it’s going to play out. My group will attack in two teams. You are backup.”

“Please, signora, I ask that you forget these Ukrainian scum and allow us to—”

“Either you go with my plan or you get in your cars and drive away. I know my people. You, I don’t know. I need to be certain that we kill the guards and trap everybody else alive.”

“We can do this, signora.”

“So far, your record for following orders is not the best. We do it my way. You park where you can see the villa’s gates. Anybody who gets past us, you stop them. I need a phone number. You get my call, you come. Are you with me so far?”

Neither of them liked it. But further protest was cut off by two cell phones ringing simultaneously. Both thugs stepped away from the car.

Trace said, “I’m loving this place more by the minute. Great weather, lovely people—”

“Stop it.”

Both men put their phones away, glared at one another, then turned toward her. The Como man said, “We follow your orders, signora.”

“Glad to hear it. When I phone, you move in fast. Anybody you find unconscious, you bundle into this van. When it’s full, use your trunks.”

“And your other van?”

“It’s already headed for the top of the ridge. My second team will rappel down and attack from the roof. Now listen carefully. If anybody comes at you, you shoot to wound, you got that? Shoot to wound, not kill. If it’s one of the guards, we’ll take care of him later.”

“Sì, signora. We understand.”

“Then get into position.”

When the men moved back to their cars, Trace said, “Can we go now?”

“Follow them through the village. I want to make sure they park in the right spot.”

As Charlie and his team made their preparations, Gabriella could not take her eyes off him. Charlie had a rangy build, balanced stance, and certain rawboned handsomeness. His taut menace was mostly masked by his air of quiet reflection. His gaze was hard and focused and steady, no matter how slanted the world might become. He saw everything and was surprised by nothing.

Beyond that was the man’s force. He held the latent power of a jaguar. Strong and supple and constantly ready to attack. The potential for violence was there beneath the surface. Not brooding or seething, however. This particular man had nothing to prove, not even to himself. He simply knew with an ancient’s wisdom that he was ready for whatever came.

She had never seen Charlie in his element before. His core intensity burned so powerfully she thought she might well be scalded by a single touch to his skin. She imagined it was like this before a volcano erupted, the lava fuming far beneath the surface, the raw power ready to surge at any minute.

They were gathered as Charlie had instructed, in the largest of the top-floor chambers. The techies’ equipment had all been pushed to one side. Pallets were laid out on the floor. A second set of pallets had been laid out in the room where Charlie had slept. Each was covered with a heating pad taken from the villa’s winter cabinet. A fierce wind blew through the open balcony doors. Even so, the room still smelled of camphor and overheated dust.

Gabriella watched him run through the plan a final time. She realized that here was another reason why he could ascend and move with such ease. Charlie was never more focused than when facing danger. He moved forward when everyone else would think no further than which way to flee. Which was the case right now. The room held a palpable sense of terror that infected everyone but him.

Charlie must have felt her eyes, for he approached her on cat’s paws. “Everything okay?”

The urge was so strong, she had no choice but to give in. Gabriella gripped his face with hands one stage removed from claws. And kissed him. She kissed him so hard it bruised her lips. She intended to leave him so thoroughly kissed he would carry it forever, straight through the fire that awaited him.

She heard a sigh from the team gathered by the balcony doors and knew it came from Brett. But the moment remained unbroken until the phone started ringing. Gabriella released him then, clinging to him with only her eyes as Irma walked to the phone hooked into the computer, pressed a button, and answered with, “Go.”

Irma listened, then said, “Roger that. Good luck, bro.” She set down the phone. “Julio says the two cars are back, only now they’re with a van. He says a second van identical to the one parked outside our gates went racing by about three minutes ago.”

Charlie kept his gaze steady on Gabriella as he said, “The Americans have split into two teams.”

Behind them, Milo exclaimed, “Who is that?”

Gabriella turned to find a man perched on the balcony railing.

Charlie said, “His name is Benny Calfo. Benny, meet the team.”

Eyes of cobalt ice flitted across the room. “Julio got it right. The Americans have a five-man team up top, they’re preparing to rappel down. Another five-man team in the second van. The locals are four and four. Looks like they’ve been ordered to hang back.”

“Irma, give Julio a quick heads-up on the teams in reserve.”

“Roger that.” She picked up the phone. “Milo, you want to come dial this thing for me?”

Benny went on, “The woman you told me to look out for is with the team by the front gates.”

“Okay. Help move this group into position. Then ready yourself.” Charlie turned to the scientists. “Do exactly what Benny says. This is not a drill. No hesitation. No heroics.”

Gabriella said with the knowledge of true conviction, “You will keep us safe.”

“No.” Charlie looked at her. But his focus was elsewhere. “I will end this.”