1635 The Papal Stakes (35 page)

Tom Stone raised his chin. “My daughter-in-law is due sometime in October. I know down-time women are pretty tough customers; I’ve seen plenty of proof of that. On the other hand, we’re not talking about normal circumstances. I figure a rescue could get pretty kinetic: running, jumping, ducking, climbing, crawling. That’s not what any doctor ever ordered for the third trimester.”

Harry nodded. “Yep, and the longer we wait, the bigger a problem Giovanna’s speed and mobility limitation becomes. So, since we’ve got the extra troops we need right here in Venice, and since the crew and ship that brought us here were pretty trustworthy—”

Miro shook his head. “We’ll retain them, but they are not the ones who will convey you to Rome; that will be done by a special ship and crew that you will meet at Ravenna. We will send your current ship after you, as a back-up.”

Thomas North tapped the table restively. “Ravenna isn’t really a port, Don Estuban.”

“No, it’s inland a bit, but ships stop at the fishing village close to it. The vessel we’ve engaged is a
barca-longa
, single-decked and with especially reliable crew. They are part ex-Arsenal, part Napolitano expatriates. They’ve got a reasonable proportion of military experience, no love of the Spanish, and a bit of experience in the ‘small trade’ business.”

“Black market?” translated Harry. “Outstanding.”

John O’Neill raised an eyebrow. “You like traveling with tinkers and thieves, do you, Harry?”

“Hell, I travel with you, don’t I?” But Harry’s smile made the jibe a jest between comrades.

“Seriously,” Harry answered, “that new ship sounds perfect, Estuban. Those guys will have exactly the skills we’ll need, including being Italians without any connections to Rome.”

Miro nodded. “And since half of their generous pay is contingent upon your healthy return to Venice, your safety and interests will become their interests. They will be alert to subtle treacheries that might elude the notice of non-natives. Now, have you had a chance to look at the communiqués we received from the team you left behind in Rome?”

“Briefly,” responded Harry with a shrug. “Looks like Mr. Donald Ohde is becoming a pretty fair hand with a radio.”

“Yes. He reports that they’ve found sufficient vantage points for observing the Palazzo Mattei. And Juliet is developing quite a following among the local youngsters.”

“Well, a little cash buys a lot of good will in lower-class Rome, right now. Things are pretty sparse, there. So by the time we arrive—using a different entry method—she should have a good observation network set up. Watching the palazzo’s provisioning deliveries as well as their guard rotations will give us the real numbers of the troops we’re facing. Also, with Juliet talking to the servants, we should manage to get a good map of the internal layout.”

“That last factor is what concerns me, Harry. Donald’s messages indicated that there weren’t many servants to speak with, as though the domestics are being kept in the Palazzo Mattei at all times. If that is the case, how will you get a workable floor plan?”

“Oh, Juliet will find someone who can draw us a map, I’m sure.”

Owen frowned. “And why are you so sure?”

Harry shrugged. “Because there’s always a loose end, like a former scullery maid who had to leave employment when she got pregnant, and who can now use a few lire in exchange for a few lines drawn on a piece of paper. Never fails: there’s no way to sew up all the folks who know what the inside of a building looks like. And Juliet always finds them. Always. It’s her super-power, you know.”

“Eh…yes, of course.”

“Her what?” inquired Wadding.

“I’ll explain it later, Father,” Sherrilyn assured him. She turned toward Miro. “Juliet’s also busy rebuilding the ranks of the
lefferti
, from what I understand.”

“Yes, although that was already half-accomplished by the time you arrived. Juliet’s been learning that, due to their martyrdom in the early days of the occupation, being one of the
lefferti
became a symbol of underground resistance among Rome’s younger men. So there are a lot of new
lefferti
already available. They are also more political now. Not more
informed
about politics, but certainly more motivated by political issues such as the Spanish occupation of Rome. And, increasingly, Madrid’s control over Naples and Sicily.” Miro looked around the table, noted the new frown on North’s face. “Colonel? Something to add?”

“Something to ponder. Specifically, how much of our future plans we should share with the prince of Palestrina and with Romulus? Do we let them know when we’ve returned to Rome? It would be good to have the extra support, and an alternate escape route or safe haven if a maritime extraction goes pear-shaped. But…”

Miro nodded appreciatively. “Yes: ‘but.’”

Harry sat up straighter. “‘But’ what? You can’t believe Romulus is a turncoat.”

Thomas shook his head. “You’re right; I think we can trust Romulus. Whoever the hell he is. But can we trust everyone in the chain linking us to him? And him to Don Taddeo Barberini? And all of the duke’s advisors?”

Owen’s frown was thoughtful. “Is some past event feeding your suspicion, Thomas?”

“‘Suspicion’ is too strong a word. Let’s just say I entertain the possibility that it wasn’t mere chance that we were conveniently on hand to witness the shell-game that Borja’s spymaster staged on streets of Rome, using the two prisoners as the pea. Indeed, if word had come from Palestrina that we were in country—”

Harry nodded. “—then Borja’s henchman would have had enough time to set up what we saw, hoping we’d tip our hand reacting to it. But since we stayed out of direct contact with the duke during our one-night stay in Palestrina, the opposing spymaster’s informers couldn’t get any detailed intel on us. Just that some group was bound for Rome and probably for the purpose of rescuing the Stones.”

Sherrilyn considered. “And so Borja’s folks quickly came up with a plan to bait us into doing something stupid.”

“I’m not sure that plan was developed quickly, Ms. Maddox.” North studied his own, steepled, fingers. “The complexity of the operation we saw in Rome, and the surety with which it was mounted, make me suspect that our ‘opposite number’ had the whole ruse in readiness. As I remarked in Rome, it is hardly a stroke of genius to expect that the famous Wrecking Crew might be sent to rescue the prisoners. So he only had to wait for one of his wide net of informers to provide him with credible intelligence that we were in the area. And if his informer was indeed somewhere inside the household of the prince of Palestrina, Taddeo Barberini, it tells our opponent something else, now that I think of it.”

Miro blinked. “Of course; it suggests—doesn’t prove, but certainly suggests—that Urban
is
alive.”

“What?” John O’Neill looked from one to the other. “Why?”

It was Wadding who answered. “Because Taddeo Barberini is another of Pope Urban’s nephews. So if the pope was dead, or even if his location was unknown, how reasonably could Harry and the USE presume he would cooperate? But the USE operatives did go to his domain, and Taddeo did cooperate. That suggests that the USE and the duke have some other, common cause—which would logically be the safety of the duke’s uncle, the pope. Which would in turn dispose Taddeo Barberini to assist a USE rescue team when it arrived near Rome.”

“He might be motivated by revenge, too; his oldest brother, Cardinal Francesco Barberini, was cut down like a dog.” John sounded both defensive and truculent.

“Yes, my lord,” Wadding replied mildly, “that could be his motivation. But I am familiar enough with the reputation of Taddeo Barberini to know that, like the other nobles of the Lazio, he will not endanger what power and possessions he has left simply to indulge a thirst for personal vengeance. He is too shrewd for that. Indeed, he might have personally preferred to remain wholly uninvolved in the Wrecking Crew’s rescue attempt; any hint that he helped Borja’s enemies could incite disastrous reprisals. No, I suspect Borja would read this as I would: Taddeo Barberini felt obligated to aid and abet representatives of the USE because they have, and control the fate of, his uncle the pope.”

Owen let out a long-held breath. “So, Father, you believe that Borja already knows that the pope is alive and in USE custody?”

“As Colonel North observes, the aid the Wrecking Crew received from Palestrina does not
prove
anything about the pope’s fate. However, it suggests certain probabilities, among which the holy father’s continued survival in a USE sanctuary ranks very high indeed.”

Sherrilyn looked grim. “So the assassination clock has started ticking for the pope.”

Miro turned toward her. “The clock is being wound, but I don’t think the countdown has begun yet. If Borja’s agents cannot find an eyewitness to indicate that the pope is alive—and we have taken measures to prevent that—then they must build their case for his survival upon telltale bits of data and evidence. Like this one. They have no doubt come to provisionally believe that Urban is alive and in hiding with us, but when all the evidence is circumstantial, you must accumulate a great deal of it before you are satisfied you have proven your hypothesis.”

Harry leaned forward. “Estuban, leaving aside hypotheses for a second, I’d like to touch on a few facts. Fact: I brought Gerd back with us because he’d like to get his hands on some lively chemical substances, if you catch my drift.”

“I suspected as much. Ambassador Stone?”

Tom smiled. “Sounds like my boys. They experimented with a lot of exothermic substances when they were younger.”

Harry smiled back. “So I recall. So can Gerd have the run of your warehouse?”

“Well, it’s not like we’ve got a munitions stockpile. But I’ll set him up with a list of what’s on hand. He can choose from the menu.”

Harry nodded. “Great. Thanks. Estuban, how much more gear can you bring in on your balloon?”

“Nothing, not before you leave again for Rome. The balloon is already en route with repair parts for the Monster. It’s also carrying fuel and a few more Hibernians, who will now simply replace the ones you are taking to Rome. After that, the balloon’s next cargo run from Grantville has to be gasoline for the Monster. We’ll fit in some extra cadre as well, but that’s a full load, too.”

“Cadre? How many? And who?”

“I’m not sure how many seats will be available on that flight, but, with all the Hibernians deployed to protect Pope Urban, and with Colonel North attached to the Wrecking Crew for the duration, I’ve decided to bring down the ranking Hibernian officer in Chur, Lieutenant Hastings, to help command the papal protection detail.”

Harry nodded. “Okay. What about radios? We left one behind with the team in Rome, so now we’ve only got our backup. Is there another we can pull from stores?”

“Yes, and I have more on the way.”

“Any of them voice-grade?”

“Surely you jest. Morse code works just fine.”

“Yeah, fine—and slow. And hard.”

“Well, the other sets are far too big and fragile for you to be able to transmit on the move. Besides, a slow radio connection is at most an operational nuisance, not a crisis.”

“We’ll also need money.”

“That’s already been drawn and is waiting for you. We’re only providing Roman and Tuscan coins. That way, the money’s origin won’t draw any attention, or tip off anyone looking for a USE operations team based out of Venice.”

The room remained silent for three seconds. Miro wasn’t about to wait until someone thought of something else; there was simply too much work still to do. He stood. “Very well, I believe that takes care of the primary business. I will remain in Venice until the fuel arrives.” He looked at Harry. “By that time, with any luck, you will have rescued the Stones and be on your way back here. Father Wadding, you will be escorted to the pope with all dispatch, but please forego leaving this island until then. Anyone who arrives in Venice and associates with us will almost certainly acquire a tail who works for Borja. Lord and Colonel O’Neill, if you would be so good as to accompany me now, we will compose a joint communiqué to your lieges in the Low Countries, and see to any refitting needs you might have.” He stood. “Gentlemen and Ms. Maddox, Ambassador Stone and I are compelled to depart within the hour, so my last words to you must be these: good luck and godspeed.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Frank Stone looked out the window and down into the smallish courtyard below. Fairly new in construction, it was well maintained, with deep, porticoed balconies at the back. At the front, a modest gate led to the streets, which, if he craned his neck, Frank could see disappear into Rome’s Jewish Ghetto.

“It’s nice having a view,” he commented.

“It would be nicer if the view was nicer,” Giovanna retorted, but, smiling, came over and put her arms around him. Her growing bump now made itself felt whenever she hugged him. “Nicer still if I was tall enough to see it.” Then, distracted, she turned back toward their bedroom. They had two rooms now, a fine bed, windows, and meals fit for nobility. Well, minor nobility, at least. Indeed, Frank could still smell the remains of lunch: a light stew, mixed greens, and—

“I wonder if there’s any vinegar left?” said Giovanna in a suddenly distracted voice.

Frank relaxed his arms, let her move out of his hug and into the other room, her fine nose almost twitching in search of piquant delights. Frank smiled; then, remembering her latest pregnancy cravings, almost retched: the vinegar on the potatoes had been quite reasonable—but mixed straight into the pear preserves?

From the next room, he heard the irregular clatter of his wife rooting through the crockery, a pause and then a satisfied, “There you are. Now, where is the cheese?”

Frank felt his stomach spasm, and he looked out the window again. Not much to see, down in the courtyard. And then he noticed: not only were there no servants running about, and no porters lugging their various burdens, there weren’t even any guards. “Hey, Giovanna, have you seen any guards today?”

“No, Frank,” came the response, muffled by what was obviously a very full mouth. “I didn’t see any yesterday, either. At least, not in the courtyard.”