Allies #2
I move over to the device and, in a series of twists and sharp tugs, I systematically dismantle the weapon.
My hands move on their own, a memory that isn’t mine guiding them.
I pause to inspect each piece as I do, releasing the magazine, hand guard, launcher and tube, trigger housing assembly, charging handle, firing pin and extractor, and handle lock assemblies.
Seeing the parts laid out neatly on the table in front of me is supremely satisfying.
But this firearm hasn’t been maintained well, was overly stiff to disassemble, and the barrel was clogged with residue.
I look up to see Bellacci staring at me.
“How do you learn to do this?” she asks.
“I don’t know. But it felt like second nature.
” I know the explanation sounds inadequate, but the series of manoeuvres to dismantle the weapon felt as instinctive as pulling my phone apart to replace the SIM card.
Mrs Bellacci smiles her approval before beginning to reassemble the rifle just as quickly.
Now it’s my turn to be impressed. When she has finished, I pick up the gun and check over her handiwork before replacing the device on the table.
“You are remarkably adept for a housekeeper.”
Still smiling, she shakes her head at me.
“And you are impressively skilled for a tourist. Romano will tell you this soon enough, but Lorenzo is my colleague, not my son. We are not menial workers. At least, that is not our principal role. We are part of a security detail that cooperates closely with other international agencies. I am forbidden from detailing exactly what we do, but after the end of our last assignment, we were posted here for two years to stay under the radar.”
“That begins to make sense. Why here?”
“Why do you think?”
I smile and rise to her challenge.
“Because you’re miles from anywhere, and that makes you difficult to find.
Even being so remote, someone has had the foresight to wire the house perimeter with countless CCTV cameras, which allows you to be constantly vigilant for any assault.
That’s probably how you managed to alert Lorenzo to last night’s intruders. How am I doing so far?”
Mrs Bellacci, who has been nodding as I speak, picks up her tablet computer from the table and briefly shows me a patchwork of live video feeds on the display.
“Vigilance means survival in our line of work. I can check everything, either on here or on my phone.”
I still assume there is a room somewhere with equipment that records whatever the cameras capture as a backup in case there is no satellite signal. I wonder if the camera system was working when Albert last visited. The thought of him prompts a question.
“Did Albert—Professor Callico know any of this? Know about you both?”
“This, I do not know. Romano oversees us. He supervised all the surveillance modifications. Many of the cameras are camouflaged and only visible to the trained eye. I am surprised you detected them.” She looks down at the assembled firearm in front of her. “Or perhaps I am not.”
“Did you also notice the poor maintenance of the weapon?” I ask, placing a finger on the barrel.
As I start to withdraw my hand, she reaches out and grabs my wrist. I am about to explain what happened to the missing leather band holding my watch, but that’s not what has drawn her attention.
“What is this?” she asks, frowning.
With her other hand, she points to the mark on the underside of my wrist. The faded blemish, like a bruise, has been there for as long as I can remember.
“That? Nothing. A birthmark.”
“This is no birthmark. This is ink. Like Lorenzo has, but different. Show me.”
I extend my wrist to Mrs Bellacci, and she puts on her glasses to examine the mark closely.
As she stretches the skin, I glance up as Lorenzo enters the kitchen and am almost shocked because it is the first time I have seen genuine humour on his face.
For a change, he does not turn away, and I shrug a smile.
“These two marks are joined,” says Mrs Bellacci. “A symbol of the Cavallo—Knight in your language—contained within a letter V. What does this mean?”
“I have no idea. As I say, I always considered this a birthmark.”
Doctor Romano enters behind Lorenzo and closes the kitchen door. Unusually for him, he is frowning and prods a finger at a chair for Lorenzo before taking his own. Before waiting for them to settle, he turns to Mrs Bellacci.
“What have you told him?” he asks her, and for the first time since I arrived in the villa, I notice her flinch slightly at his assertiveness.
“A little. Not much—”
“These men did not come for either of you,” said Romano, his gaze coming to rest on me.
“They came for him.” Dr Romano punctuates the last word by nodding at me.
“The man he tackled and brought down is the appointed head of this hastily put-together team. They were meant to make this resemble a failed burglary during which Mr Redbrick would have been an unfortunate casualty. Clearly, they were not expecting resistance. These men are worse than amateurs—what you would call hired guns—employed by the Spataro family—”
“Sergei Spataro?” asks Lorenzo, his eyes wide.
“Yes. Our friend Sergei. A wealthy UK sponsor commissioned this job. I called Sergei on the way back here, and he was genuinely remorseful. Understandably so, because he knows what I can do if he ever chooses to cross me. But I believe him when he says that if he had known this property was managed and protected by me, he would not only have declined the work but would also have gathered more information about the client. The point, Mr Redbrick, is that I believe it is you who needs to provide explanations, not the other way around.”
The room falls silent, and all eyes are on me. I could tell them half-truths—because Albert told me to trust nobody—but after last night, the instincts I trust with my life have already decided for me.
I tell them the whole story, about my relationship with the rest of the Callico family, about everything from the days leading up to Albert’s death, including the coded message he sent me, up until I arrived at Eagle House.
I even explain my condition, my retrograde amnesia, to justify my ability to perform things I don’t remember learning.
I end by describing the role my friends in London play in keeping me up to date on developments from home.
“The question remains,” says Romano. “Why are you being hunted? Why would somebody go to these lengths to have you, a civilian, eliminated? Do you know things about the family that could bring them down?”
“Dr Romano, I promise you I do not. Most of the Callicos are a little messed up, but as far as I know, they’re involved in nothing illicit.
I thought they’d finally be happy with me gone from their lives.
I am beginning to suspect that Albert discovered things about the family or maybe about my past but kept the truth from me, which is why he told me to trust nobody and come here to Eagle House. ”
“Whatever the reason,” says Romano, who seems to accept my explanation.
“Last night provided an effective test of our defences. But I will push Spataro to find out more information about this client. No doubt they will want a report from him on the success of the operation. Most important of all, we need to contain this breach and make sure news does not get out.”
Romano taps his upper lip as silence falls around the table.
“I’m sorry,” I say eventually. “I had no idea I’d be putting you all at risk. If you can give me a few hours to pack, I can be gone by lunchtime—”
“You cannot—” begins Lorenzo, standing abruptly from the table, a mix of anger and upset on his face. His gaze turns to plead with Romano. “We cannot allow him to leave and face this alone—”
“Calm down, Lorenzo. Gabriel is going nowhere,” says Romano, waving Lorenzo down.
“By rights, if anybody should be sent packing, it’s us.
This is his property, after all. But I suggest we all stay where we are and remain calm, including you, Gabriel, at least until we find out what Professor Callico was trying to warn you about.
He meant you to come here to find answers.
I know you’ve already met with more than you anticipated, but perhaps we can help each other.
Mrs Bellacci tells me you are not without your usefulness, and, as you witnessed last night, we are not without our own. ”
“You’ll help me locate this book he mentioned?”
“Ah, yes. Salvador Luria,” says Romano, nodding.
“That was the intent behind your question? Together, we will find this book. But first, I need your word that what we discussed this morning stays between us. And I include your London friends. Teresa and Lorenzo Bellacci are assumed names. Our government went to great lengths to secure identities for them both.”
“You have my word.”
Romano says something briefly to Lorenzo and Mrs Bellacci, and whatever words have been spoken appear to satisfy them both.