The Grecian Manifesto (11 page)

Chapter 20

Rome, Italy

Thanos rubbed his eyes as tears rolled down his cheeks. It
had been five minutes since Sean Wyatt had detonated some kind of improvised flashbang
device, and his eyes still burned from the searing white light. He and his men
pushed their way through the crowd, hurrying desperately to figure out which
way Wyatt and his friend had gone. It was too late, though. Their quarry had
disappeared into the waves of tourists and commuters like a thief in the night.
In between rapid blinks, his eyes darted left and right, scouring the crowded
lobby for any sign of the Americans.

“No sign of them,” one of the henchmen said, returning
from a fruitless search to the eastern side of the station. Thanos already knew
they’d be long gone.

The problem now was figuring out where they’d headed.
Thanos had checked the paper bag as soon as his eyes had re-acclimated to their
surroundings following the bright flash from Wyatt’s little trick, but it had
been empty. He’d thrown it aside and hastily stormed out of the locker area.

“Should we go back and check out the locker, sir?” the
other grunt asked.

Thanos nodded, saying nothing.

The three made their way back to the locker area, rudely
shoving people out of their path as they moved through the outer edge of the
lobby and into the corridor. Walking eased dramatically upon getting back to
the locker area, and they hurriedly made their way to where Wyatt had detonated
the small explosive.
 
When they
reached the spot, the three were greeted by an unexpected surprise. Two
security guards were inspecting the black burn marks left on the floor by the
tiny flashbang. One was down on a knee, running his finger along the streaks.
They were speaking in Italian, saying something about how the flash had shorted
out the camera in the corner. One of them held the paper bag in his hand. He
was looking at the bottom of it with a curious expression. Thanos held up his
hand for the men behind him to wait a moment. They were hidden from view by a
perpendicular wall of lockers. This meant he and his men still had the element
of surprise with the two guards.

Thanos took a step back and listened carefully, knowing
the guards had not seen or heard him since their backs were facing him.

“What does this mean?” the man with the bag asked in
rushed Italian. “Vincenzo Cagliari?”

Vincenzo Cagliari? Had he heard correctly? Thanos leaned
farther around the corner, listening closer.

“Throw that trash away,” the other guard said in a
reprimanding tone. “We have work to do.”

“Why would someone write that on the bottom of a paper
bag?”

Thanos was grateful he spoke fluent Italian. It had been
an easy enough language to acquire after years of speaking Spanish and French.
There were enough similarities among the foundations of each language that he’d
learned it in a matter of less than two months. He continued to listen
patiently to the conversation going on between the two guards to see if he
could glean any more information.

The security man on one knee stood up and grabbed the bag
from the other, tossing it at a trashcan right next to the corner where Thanos
was standing. As soon as the bag hit the rim of the can and fell in, the guard
saw Thanos leaning around the corner and immediately produced his sidearm. He
pointed the barrel at Thanos’s head with a nervous finger on the trigger.

“You there,” he shouted in Italian. “Stay where you are!”

Thanos didn’t move, but he could sense the men behind him
slinking away. He slowly put his right hand up in the air and his left around
his back, quickly motioning for his men to go around behind the security
personnel.

“I’m sorry,” he said in an accent that very nearly sounded
American. “I don’t speak Italian. I’m here on vacation, and I lost my wife.”

The two men exchanged a suspicious glance before the one
on the right spoke up. “He’s the one from the camera footage we saw earlier.
Call for backup.” The one in charge then turned his commands to Thanos, speaking
in rough English. “Keep your hands up and do not move.”

“Very well,” Thanos said, again in English. He stood
perfectly still as the man began taking cautious steps toward him.

The subordinate security guard started to move his left
hand toward the radio attached to his shoulder to call for reinforcements when
Thanos saw his men slip up behind the two uniformed rent-a-cops with knives
drawn. Their movement was stealthy and swift as they simultaneously stepped
toward their targets. The subordinate officer was nabbed first, Thanos’s man
drawing the shiny blade across the throat of the unsuspecting guard. He gurgled
slightly for a second and dropped to the ground just as the other guard was
snatched by the second henchman, who jammed the tip of his blade through the
back of the man’s neck and out the front of his throat. He collapsed a moment
later, next to his partner.

The victims’ bodies shook violently on the floor,
resisting death for a few short moments before stiffening.
  

Thanos took a step away from the scene, making sure he
stayed clear of the camera’s view.

“Do you need the bag, sir?” one of his men asked, about to
bend down and pick it up.

“No. We have everything we need.”

The three men made their way back out of the locker area
and into the throng of people once more. Thanos gave a quick check around to
make sure they hadn’t drawn the attention of any additional security personnel.
A few police were making their way toward the locker room from the far side of
the train station. As soon as the authorities discovered the two bodies, the
entire place would be locked down. Getting to the car was imperative.

Thanos moved fast, weaving his way through the flood of
people, knocking over an elderly woman as he did. His two men followed close
behind, sensing their boss’s urgency. The doors were only forty feet away, but
it seemed like two miles. The crowd had thinned out a little, making their
escape quicker, but Thanos couldn’t help but feel like the police were watching
their every movement. He took a quick look up at one corner of the room where
three cameras were mounted together, watching the entire lobby of the station.
He knew they’d been seen at some point. And even though no one realized what
was going on at the moment, they would be easily traced later on.

His men were known mercenaries, hit men hired by the
highest bidder. No doubt Interpol would have little trouble figuring out who
they were. His identity, however, was kept immaculately anonymous. He’d spent
untold amounts of time and money keeping it that way. The less anyone knew
about him the better. The only soul on the planet who knew Thanos’s true
identity was his employer, Dimitris Gikas, the only man he ever trusted. Still,
all anyone needed was a picture to post anywhere, and his anonymity would
quickly evaporate. With social media swarming everyone’s lives, his name would
be irrelevant. People would recognize the face. A face was all one needed to
get arrested.

Twenty feet from the exit, Thanos believed they had made
it. He could smell the outside air coming through the doors, sensing their
escape had been made. His relief, however, was short lived. Two uniformed
police officers appeared in the doorway directly in front of Thanos and his
men. The police stepped through the portal and strode purposely in Thanos’s
direction. The officers’ eyes locked on the three men as they moved cautiously
toward the killers. One of the policemen touched his shoulder radio and said
something quietly into the microphone.

Thanos couldn’t make out what he’d said above the noise in
the crowded station, but he kept walking toward the exit, moving deliberately
now so as not to spook the officers. He wasn’t a man to be made nervous easily,
but in this instance he knew that being arrested wasn’t an option. He and his
men could kill the police, but it would be in a room full of witnesses and
cameras. Knowing the latter, he would have to rest his hopes on the diplomatic
reach of his employer to get them out of trouble. Thanos hated having to do
that. He’d only used Gikas’s influence one other time, when he’d killed a
prostitute in Budapest. He feared he might have to make that phone call again
tonight.

Less than ten feet away, the two policemen split apart and
circled around the three men. Thanos watched, somewhat disbelieving, as the two
uniformed policemen disappeared into the mass of people. He spun around and
picked up the pace again with his two assistants in tow. They needed to get to
the car and figure out just who this Vincenzo Cagliari was, and why Adriana Villa
had thought him so important.

Chapter 21

Corfu, Greece

The door to the cellar burst open, flooding a small area
of the stone floor with light from a staircase. Dimitris Gikas stood on the
threshold, staring in at the scene. The light silhouetted his figure. Niki
scooted toward the back wall. Adriana returned his stare with fierce eyes.

“What is so important about Cagliari?” Gikas asked
bluntly. He took a few steps into the cellar, clicking the hard bottoms of his
Italian leather shoes with each one.

For a split second, Adriana’s eyes twitched. She instantly
regained her composure, not wanting to give away the secret she held in her
mind. “I do not know who that is,” she lied.

Gikas’s lips pouted mockingly and his eyebrows lifted.
“Oh. So, you do not know the man whose name you wrote on the bottom of a bag
and left in a locker in a train station? It seems highly probable that you do
indeed know who Vincenzo Cagliari is.”

She shook her head, this time keeping her lips pursed
tightly.

“Well,” Gikas put his hands behind his back and walked a
little farther into the room. “That is a shame. Because right now I have three
of my men en route to Cagliari’s home.” Gikas stopped a few feet away from
Adriana. She glared up at him from the floor like an angry cat that had been
declawed. “You see, my men found what you left in the train station in Rome.
They are going to ask Signor Cagliari a few questions. Then, they are going to
kill him. I figured since you knew him, I might tell my men to be merciful,
perhaps execute him quickly. Since you do not know him, you would have no
problem with my drawing out the old man’s death.”

Adriana fought to keep her breathing calm. If Gikas was
telling the truth, her old friend would be in grave danger. Other thoughts
mingled with the concern. How had his men found the key? They must have
returned to the hotel room and discovered it on the floor near the entrance.
She wished there was a way to reach out to Cagliari, but there was nothing she
could do. Another thing occurred to her, something that brought a terrible
sense of doom to her. Sean hadn’t found the key. That meant he was not on his
way to save her. If she was going to get out of this alive, she would have to
do it on her own.

“Nothing to say about that?” Gikas interrupted her
thoughts. “Very well. I will tell my men to do their worst on the good
professor.”

He swiveled on one foot and started to leave the room when
Adriana stopped him. “Wait!” she shouted, freezing him just before he reached
the entrance. He spun around, eager to hear what she would say.

“Please. Just wait.” She hesitated for a moment, not sure
what to tell the evil man standing before her. “I have known Signor Cagliari
most of my life. He was like an uncle to me. Please, I beg you. Do not harm
him.”

A curious look washed over Gikas’s face. “Now that depends
on what you are going to tell me. Doesn’t it?”

“What do you want to know?” she stalled, still formulating
a story. She had to think fast. Gikas would easily smell a lie. Whatever she
came up with had to be convincing.

He walked back to where she sat on the floor and leaned
over her, bending down at the knees. “Cagliari either knows something, or you
gave him something, or both. What is it? If you tell me what it is he’s hiding
for you, I may consider letting the old man live. But if I find out you’re
lying to me, or have misled me in any way, I will cut out your tongue, and
Cagliari will suffer an excruciating death.”

Adriana swallowed hard, peering through narrow slits at
the man standing over her. He was almost close enough to strike in the groin
with her boot, but it would be a fruitless maneuver that would only bring worse
consequences down on her, and possibly the young boy cowering in the corner.
The latter concerned her more than her own safety.

She drew in a deep breath and waited before answering his
request. “Let the boy go, and I will tell you what you want to know.”

A snort escaped Gikas’s nostrils. Something about the
request must have amused him. “You are in no position to negotiate, young
lady.”

Her steeled expression never faltered. “If I’m in no
position to negotiate, then why are you here?”

He stood erect and thought for a few seconds. “Very well.
I will have the boy taken to an orphanage in the city. He will be well looked
after there. In return, you need to tell me what Cagliari is hiding.” Gikas
raised his finger in warning. “But do not lie to me. If you do, I will know it.
And if that is what happens, you and your friend will suffer greatly.”

“Call your men first.”

Gikas leaned back and tilted his head up as he laughed at
the request. His voice bounced off the stone walls around them. “You are a bold
little girl. I’ll give you that. You certainly have no fears.”

Adriana stared hard at him. Her hair had been pulled back
tight in a ponytail, but one strand had slipped and was cascading down her
face, past her cheek. “We all have fears, Dimitris. Even you.”

His curiosity aroused, he pushed the conversation further.
“And what is it you believe I fear, Ms. Villa?”

When she answered, she didn’t flinch. “You fear losing.
And you fear anyone who can make that happen.”

“Ah. That is what you believe? That I’m afraid to lose?”
Adriana’s nostrils flared, but she didn’t answer. “You are mistaken. I am not
afraid of losing because I never lose.”

“You will someday.”

“Perhaps. But it will not be today. Now, if you don’t
mind, I would appreciate it if you would quit delaying and tell me what it is I
want to know. My men will be at Cagliari’s within the next twenty minutes, so
your friend is running out of time.”

Adriana let out a long sigh. “I gave him a map,” she said
suddenly.

Gikas raised a wary eyebrow. “What kind of map? And what
is so special about it?”

She swallowed, formulating what to say. “It is written on
an ancient scroll. There were only three of its kind. The other two have been
lost to history. They were created by order of Julius Caesar himself.”

Gikas listened intently, his eyes widening with every
word. “And what is on this map?”

Adriana looked up into the man’s eyes. “It shows the way
to the last antikythera.”