When he noticed the odd behavior, Sean had to ask. “Not sure I want to know the answer to this. Why do you have your hand on your butt?”
Tommy cast him a chiding glance. “Rome is notorious for pickpockets, man. All it takes is bumping into one random thief, and your cards, identification, everything are gone. I’d watch your wallet if I were you.”
Sean smoothly fished out a money clip from his front pocket and held it over his shoulder for Tommy to see. “Grandpa always said to keep your pictures of Andrew Jackson in your front pocket.”
Tommy shook his head slowly and smiled. “I guess that’s one way of handling it.”
Sean put the money clip back in his pocket and turned to the left, continuing to follow the signs to the locker area. They strode quickly through the main terminal’s access corridors and finally arrived at the entrance to a vast room, full of gray lockers. Yellow paint marked the numbers over top of the storage units that were stacked two high, up to the low ceiling.
“I guess lockers have changed since the last time I had to use one,” Tommy said. “These things are a lot bigger and more secure looking than I remember.”
“And they take credit or debit cards, too,” Sean added, pointing at the card slot and keypad. “We need to find locker number fifty-seven.”
He followed the numbers, all of which were in the hundreds, until he noticed the descending order. The two traced their way around the room until they reached the back wall. The huge storage units lined the back wall for at least sixty feet, giving it the feel of a minimum-security bank.
“Here it is,” Tommy said, stopping at the locker on the second level marked with the number fifty-seven.
Sean halted next to him and gave another paranoid glance in both directions. The locker area was vacant, and much quieter than the rest of the train station. Other than a security camera at one end, they were alone in a major metropolitan train station.
Tommy stared vapidly at the gray box. “I wonder what’s in there,” he said in an absent tone.
Something was bothering Sean about the storage area, and he wanted to get what they came for and figure out what it was later. He took the key and shoved it into the keyhole, and then twisted it hard. The door swung open, and the two men stared inside. What they found astounded and confounded both of them. They stared for several seconds in disbelief. Sean reached into the locker and pulled out a paper bag from a fast food chain. He frowned, wondering what it meant. What was Adriana up to?
“What is it?” Tommy asked, trying to look into the bag as Sean opened it up.
Sean couldn’t help but smile as he stared into the bag. It was completely empty. “Nothing,” he said and showed Tommy the contents.
Tommy’s eyebrows stitched together. “I don’t understand.”
It was perplexing on several levels for Sean. If there was nothing in the bag, he would have no way of finding what it was that Gikas wanted. Without that, he had no leverage.
A strange idea occurred to him as Tommy bent over and examined the empty locker. Sean turned over the bag and found something written in pencil on the bottom. The faint, barely noticeable words spelled out someone’s first and last name.
Vincenzo Cagliari.
“Clever,” Sean said just above a whisper.
Tommy stood up straight again and looked back at his friend. “What?” he asked.
Sean didn’t get a chance to answer. A voice from the other end hall broke their silence.
“Both of you stand perfectly still.” The words came from a stocky, bald man with a scar across one cheekbone. Two other men, both muscular and carrying weapons aimed straight in Tommy and Sean’s direction, escorted him. The way the men moved, Sean knew immediately they were mercenaries. He’d seen the type before. Unfortunately for him, he’d seen the type recently.
“Do you want me to raise my hands or just keep them down?” Sean asked in a smart aleck tone. “Most of the time when someone gets the drop on me, they ask me to put my hands up.”
“From what I know about you, Mr. Wyatt, very few people catch you by surprise.” The hulky man’s remark meant he had either been watching Sean for a while, or simply done a little research.
“You must feel pretty special then.” The snide comment did little to change the men’s stone-cold demeanor.
“What is in the bag, Mr. Wyatt?”
A quick snort escaped Sean’s nostrils, and despite having guns aimed at him, he kept a grin on his face. “There’s a camera behind you boys. I’d say you have about ninety seconds to put those weapons away and get out of here before security arrives.”
The man, who was apparently in charge of the other two, never flinched. “I’m aware of the cameras,” he said, stepping confidently toward where Tommy and Sean were standing. “I’ll ask again. What is in the bag?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” The men hadn’t seen him examine the bottom of the bag. He was willing to bet they wouldn’t think to do the same.
The three men were only fifteen feet away now and closing. “Fine. Set the bag down and step back.”
“All right,” Sean said and did as instructed. Tommy followed by his side, stepping away from the spot as Sean set it on the floor. “Just take it easy. You guys don’t want to fire those weapons in here. And we don’t want to get shot. So relax, come get the bag, and we will all be on our way.”
The bald man shook his head slowly, never breaking his poker face. “Regardless of what is in the bag, Mr. Wyatt, you will be coming with us.”
“Well, there is where you’re going to have a problem,” Sean said, keeping his hands out to his sides as he continued to retreat from the paper bag. “It’s going to be difficult for you to transport two hostages through the multitude of people out there. All it takes is one hysterical woman to see those guns, and it will become chaos.”
Scarface reached the bag and stopped. “Don’t move any farther,” he ordered, bending one knee and reaching down at the same time to grab the object.
As he did, Sean twisted slightly and slipped something out of his belt with his right hand in a subtle movement. The three henchmen didn’t notice.
“I’m telling you,” Sean said, “you’re going to be disappointed. Pretty sure that bag was left here as a decoy.”
The permanent scowl on bald man’s face deepened as he opened the top of the bag and realized what Sean was talking about. “Is this some kind of joke? What did you do with it?”
“Do with what?” Sean asked as honestly as he possibly could.
“It was empty when we found it.” Tommy corroborated the story.
“You think me a fool? I am going to ask you one last time. What was in the bag? I have no problem killing you and taking it from you.” The bald man was nearly yelling now. His irritation had reached boiling point.
The tension between the men was as thick as mud. Sean knew the man wasn’t bluffing, even with the watchful eyes of the camera behind them. “Okay. Okay. Take it easy,” Sean said finally. “Here,” he held out his hand and produced a small, metallic disc, slightly larger than a watch battery. “I don’t even know what it is.”
“Set it on the floor and back away,” the bald man ordered, wagging his gun in the process.
The other two men behind him were clearly jumpy. The slightest provocation would cause them to open fire so Sean moved carefully and did as he was told, setting the disc on the ground.
“Close your eyes,” he whispered to Tommy as the man reached down to grab the shiny object.
Tommy was confused but did as directed.
A second before the stranger grasped the disc, a blinding flash of white light erupted from it. Sean had closed his eyes just a moment before the mini-flashbang went off and now opened them as the men in the room began to scream. One of the weapons fired, sending a bullet bouncing off the floor and lockers.