Midnight Angels (18 page)

“She will be, soon enough. Even Edwards would admit to that.”

Peter glanced at his watch, pressing a tiny button that lit up the small screen in a greenish hue. “With a bit of luck, they should have cleared the Sheetrock away by now. They should be standing in the room with the find. If they had done anything to alert the security details either inside or out, we would have heard it.”

“They will still need to get the Angels up through the opening and into the office,” Josie said. “Which means we need to depend on the boy
as much as we do on Kate. And he’s still the one element in this equation unknown to us all.”

“I can still get someone in there if you need it,” Peter said. “A member of my team lives a few streets from here, just above the Ferragamo store. He can be inside in a little more than fifteen minutes, probably less.”

Josie mulled it over for a few seconds and then shook her head. “Let’s stay with the plan. No cause to make any changes.”

“At least not until we hear the alarm bells go off,” Peter said.

He leaned over and kissed Josie gently on her left cheek, lifted the thin collar on his brown leather jacket and stepped out onto the cobblestone street of the Ponte Vecchio.

“If that happens,” he said, “you won’t need to guess where I’ll be.”

Josie let out a smile and gave Peter a quick wave. “In the middle of the smoke,” she said.

KATE STOOD ALONGSIDE
one of the three Midnight Angels, her fingers gently tracing its lines. Marco looked down from the small office above, a flashlight focused on Kate and the Angels.

“These were the ones Michelangelo believed would be his greatest achievement,” she said, still whispering, her voice echoing off the cold stone walls. “The ones that would seal his legend.”

“Most scholars don’t even think they exist,” Marco said. “They say the works are nothing more than a myth.”

Kate looked up at him and smiled. “Well, we can both see how right they were on that,” she said.

“Do you think we’ll ever find out who has been hiding them all these years?” he asked. “And why?”

“We’ll start to get an idea once they are discovered missing,” she said. “You eliminate the people chasing these pieces solely for their value and those who simply want to possess. The ones who are left will be able to provide some answers.”

“You better start lifting them up to me,” Marco said. “We still have plenty of time before the next shift swings this way, but the sooner we are out of here, the better.”

“Remember to grab each one under the wings and ease them up
through the slot,” Kate said. “They’re lighter than they look, but also more delicate. Whoever served as their guardian went to a great deal of trouble to keep them in near perfect condition all these years. Let’s not ruin all that in just one night.”

“In that case, make sure you catch them if they slip out of my hands,” Marco said.

Kate lifted the first Angel, wrapping her arms around its waist, her feet planted firmly on a stone ledge, allowing her better balance and stronger traction as she gently eased the twenty-five-pound statue up toward Marco’s outstretched arms. He had his ankles braced around the base of the desk for support and waited until the Angel was up high enough for him to get a firm grip. “Don’t let go until I tell you,” he said. “And even then, stay close enough to grab it in case it does slip.”

“Glide him up slowly,” Kate instructed. “Don’t get up to your knees until the head is through the opening.”

Marco wrapped his arms around the Angel’s wingspan and then froze.

Kate caught the movement of his eyes and his concerned frown. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“A light just circled the walls of the room,” he said. “I think it came from the street below.”

“It could be a guard working the perimeter of the building,” Kate said, struggling to keep her grip on the Angel, her arms and wrists starting to ache from the weight.

“What if it’s not?” Marco asked, his hands, holding the Angel’s wings, now trembling.

“Then we’re in serious trouble,” Kate said, trying to maintain her confident demeanor, but fully aware of the implications they would face if caught.

She had been taught, by both Professor Edwards and a handful of his acolytes, that fear was one of the few human emotions that could be confronted and defeated. She never argued with their theory, it all sounded so plausible sitting inside the safety well of a classroom, surrounded by the benign rituals of academic life. But now, in the middle of a silent night, her arms wrapped around a sculpted Angel hidden for centuries from the public eye, standing behind a secret wall of a sealed-off corridor, the fear she once thought so easy to manipulate felt as real to her as the cold sweat
that ran down her chest and back. She found breathing to be a chore and wished she could control the aggressive pounding against her chest. She knew she had to keep control of the situation, and for perhaps the first time in her adult life, wasn’t sure how to accomplish such a feat.

Marco’s tugging on the Angel brought her quickly back to the task at hand. “I’ll get this first one up,” he said, “and then I’ll go and take a look around. I didn’t hear any footsteps coming our way, so I think we’re still okay. But we would both feel better if I knew that for sure. Will you be all right?”

Kate took a few deep breaths, her fingers and arms starting to tingle, and looked up at him. “Just don’t leave me alone down here too long,” she managed to say.

“I won’t leave you, don’t worry,” Marco said. “What kind of a man would I be if I were to do such a thing?”

“A smart one,” she said, watching as he eased the first of the three Angels through the opening and then disappeared from sight.

CHAPTER
22

E
DWARDS STARED OUT THE WINDOW OF THE PRIVATE GULFSTREAM
jet as it made its way across the choppy waves of an aggressive Atlantic Ocean. He was a good three hours into the flight and sat at an oval desk filled with open notebooks and legal pads marked with an extensive series of notes and designs. He poured himself a fresh cup of coffee from a silver serving pot and drank it down in three long gulps. He was drinking far too much coffee lately and he could feel its effects, from the occasional series of heart palpitations to the nervous tension. He made a silent promise that once this particular mission was complete and he had managed to survive it, he would once again return to the strict health regimen he had followed for most of his adult years. But now was not the time to fret over set routines and rigid schedules. It was, instead, the most important and the most challenging moment the Vittoria Society had faced—a golden opportunity to bring to light a centuries-old work that had previously existed only in the rumor mills of academic circles, combined with the chance to finally eliminate a man whose name and status had haunted Edwards for decades. He and the Raven had danced around one another for far too long. The moment was near for one of them to emerge from the shadows of their secret worlds and lay claim to victory.

And for that to happen, he felt sure one of them needed to die.

Edwards rested his head against the thick brown leather and closed his eyes. He was too exhilarated to sleep, and instead allowed his mind to wander to Kate. His visions ran on an endless loop—the young girl tossing her first karate kick toward the ceiling of a dojo, visits to countless museums
in too many cities to remember, the long talks and the longer walks, listening to her speak with passion about Michelangelo and hearing in her words the voice of her mother and the clear thinking of her father. And now he pictured her in Florence, about to unearth a work that had only been discussed in private clubs and university lecture halls or at five-course dinner tables, and he wondered if she was truly prepared to handle the task at hand. Had he trained her well enough? And if not, would his presence and the full strength of the Society be enough to counter the assault he expected to be launched by the forces of the Raven?

Edwards knew the risks were great and the challenge the toughest he would ever face. He understood the consequences of the actions he would soon undertake, and didn’t dare estimate the number of people who might perish in the pursuit of three chiseled pieces of stone. And he had no doubt that Kate could easily be one of the casualties of the battle that loomed so close at hand. He would do all he could to prevent such a calamity, but he had been through enough such battles to know that once wedged into a fight, anything was possible and almost none of it for the good. He had sworn his love and devotion to Kate, but had given his allegiance to the Society.

He also wondered if such risks were worth it. Had he betrayed his core beliefs in order to bring the Society to the point where it rested on an equal footing with the Raven and his Immortals? Was a rare discovery worth the loss of a life, and not just any life, but potentially that of the one person he loved more than any other? He had taken the Society to heights no one ever imagined it would achieve, but at what cost? And how much different was he, really, than the man he so wanted to bring down, a man once considered a friend and now his most lethal enemy?

Ironically, it had been Kate’s parents who always preached that there should be no one person bigger than the Society. Little could they have predicted that one day that very theory would threaten their only child.

“Don’t mean to disturb you,” a woman’s soft voice said, shaking Edwards back to the moment. “Just wanted to check to see if there was anything else you needed me to do before landing.”

“Please,” he said, “take a seat and let’s see if we’ve covered every base.”

Edwards watched as the woman he estimated was only a few years
older than Kate eased into a plush leather seat on the other side of the oval table. She was wearing a tight-fitting pantsuit over a toned upper body and shapely legs. Her long, thick brown hair partially hid one side of a thin face highlighted by sparkling blue eyes. She held a felt-tip pen in her right hand and rested a yellow legal pad on her lap.

“The pilot tells me we’re making excellent time,” she said in a voice that proudly revealed her Boston roots. “We should be landing about forty minutes earlier than planned.”

“This hour of the night, doesn’t surprise me,” Edwards said. “You’re Rita, right?”

She nodded and smiled. “Yes,” she said. “Sorry, I should have reintroduced myself. It was such a rush back there during takeoff.”

“No, it’s me,” Edwards said. “I’ve always been bad with names. If you haven’t been dead at least three hundred years, don’t expect me to remember anything at all about you.”

“Your motorcycle will be waiting for you on the tarmac, as you requested,” Rita said. “And your bags will be waiting for you at the hotel.”

“You checked me in under another name?” he asked.

“Yes, Professor,” Rita said. “And there is a new passport in your carryon bag to match the name. You’ll also find a white envelope in there with five thousand euros, all in fives, tens, and twenties. And a fully loaded .9 millimeter along with two additional ammo packs.”

“Has anyone been made aware of my arrival?” he asked.

“We’ve kept a tight lid on that,” she said. “Those who know stateside are your most trusted aides, and no one in Italy has been informed. Since it’s not an anticipated visit, I think we can keep it that way for as long as necessary.”

“I’ll settle for one day’s head start,” Edwards said, reaching over to pour a fresh cup of coffee. “That’s the best I can hope for, regardless of all the precautions that have been taken.”

“Will that leave you with enough time to finish what you plan to do?” Rita asked.

“Not really, no,” Edwards said. “But I’m grateful for any advantage you were able to secure. The rest will be up to me.”

“We could send out an alert to a few of our aides in Florence,” she said. “A little help might buy you some more time.”

“I’ll find them if I run into any trouble I can’t handle,” he said. “Or, as is more often the case, they’ll find me. But I think, initially, that I can be much more effective working in the shadows. The time for fireworks will arrive soon enough. No sense striking the match.”

“Okay,” Rita said, poised to stand and return to her station at the rear of the private jet. “I won’t be far if you need anything.”

Edwards reached out a hand and held Rita in her place. “How long have you been part of the Society?” he asked.

“It will be four years this October,” she said, apparently thrown off by the question. “I was recruited a month or thereabouts after I finished college.”

“Why do you think you were sought out?” Edwards asked.

“I’m not really sure, to be honest,” Rita said. “I had an art history degree, but that’s grown into an area of study second only to the always useless English major. And I was about to start work at a museum in Denver. Perhaps the combination of those two arenas caught somebody’s attention. Or maybe the Society was just short of its quota that particular month and needed to fill a space.”

Edwards sat back, nodded and smiled. “Who recruited you?” he asked.

“A friend of one of my professors,” she said. “He told me his name was Charles Agee, but somehow I never quite believed that to be true. He told me a bit about the Society, its goals and past achievements, doing his best to make it sound as glamorous as possible without really saying much about the group at all.”

“But clearly he was successful,” Edwards said.

“I wasn’t a difficult sell,” Rita said. “Mr. Agee pointed out the many opportunities that would be available to me—tons of travel, the chance to pursue a master’s degree with Society money, working with some of the most prominent names in the art world. Toss in a salary that was three times what I would have earned in Denver and I had my pen out and ready to sign.”

“And were all those opportunities made available to you?” Edwards asked.

“More or less,” she said. “I’ve traveled to places I would never have dreamed of being able to visit and have worked with terrific people and
been allowed to learn as much from them as time would permit. I’ve also made a number of very close friends, people who will always be an important part of my life. So, in that sense, the payoff has been huge.”