Just as he prepared to squeeze the trigger, an explosion ripped through the chamber. A fireball rolled in his direction, but he was thrown through the air just before it reached him. He landed against a crate some twenty yards away, his head slamming against a wood beam. Pain seared into his skull and down his spine.
He lay there for a few minutes as the smoke and debris swirled around him. In the distance he could hear something crackling. After lifting his head slightly, he saw flames breaking out. Within minutes the whole place would be consumed by fire.
As he tried to gather his strength, Zane saw the outline of a body moving toward him. His vision was still blurred by the impact of the fall, but he didn’t need to see clearly in order to know what was approaching. Remembering his gun, he felt around with his right hand, but there was nothing there. It had been separated from him in the blast.
The shadow grew closer and Zane knew that, without a weapon, it would all be over soon. At least the giant creature’s size meant that death would be quick and merciful.
The silhouette of a head soon appeared and descended toward him. Zane braced for the impact, preparing to die with dignity. And then, as he lay there waiting, two hands reached out through the smoke.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
Amanda Higgs sat inside the enclosed section of a rooftop terrace on the outskirts of Florence. Her left leg was propped up on an ottoman, the lower portion encased in a walking boot, the result of her injury from a few weeks before.
The American archaeologist had traveled the world over, but the late afternoon view of Florence was perhaps the most stunning she had ever seen. Rising above the sea of rust-colored rooftops was the famed Duomo, with its eight white ribs and terracotta tiles. Beyond the city, the mountains and clouds fused together in varying shades of lavender and blue, a sight that would shame the greatest impressionist painters.
The terrace on which Amanda sat was part of a five-story luxury home owned by Valente Graziano. Valente was known as one of the city’s most respected dealers of fifteenth-century art, but more importantly, he was the favorite uncle of Carmen Petrosino.
It was Carmen who had first suggested that she, Zane, and Amanda unwind there while Amanda’s ankle healed. She told Amanda that it was the least they could do for the girl’s willingness to put her life on the line in order to find her father’s killer.
“Carmen.” Amanda turned to the Italian, who was sitting on her right. “Question.”
“Si?”
Amanda pointed out the window to the right. “I know that’s the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore over there.”
“The Duomo,” Zane said in his best Italian accent. He was seated on Amanda’s left, sipping a glass of Dolcetto red wine.
“Yes, the Duomo.” Amanda moved her finger to the left, pointing at a tower a few blocks away. “But what is that?”
Carmen followed her finger. “Ah, that’s the Palazzo Vecchio.”
“Ah, yes,” Amanda replied. “I remember it now from one of my college classes. Aren’t there some Roman ruins at that site?”
Carmen nodded. “There are. The fortress you see was built on top of an ancient Roman theater at the end of the thirteenth century. Today it serves two purposes: it’s a museum, and it’s also our town hall.”
“Amazing.”
“Because of its size and the beauty of its dome, the Duomo gets all the press. But for my money, the Palazzo Vecchio is the more fun place to visit.”
Zane patted Amanda’s boot lightly. “And when this baby comes off next week, we’re going to take you down there.”
Amanda beamed. “I would absolutely love that. And as much as I’m enjoying this view, I can’t wait to go exploring.”
Zane smiled. “You know, Carmen, I never grow tired of Florence. I still can’t figure out why anyone would leave all of this to do what we do.”
“If I chose to stay here, who would save you the next time you’re tied up in the back of a boat?”
“Listen, I may have been drugged, but I seem to remember it was Connor who manned up and dove in that freezing water to get me,” he replied with a sly grin. He took another sip of the Dolcetto. “And besides, didn’t you know that I was there by design? How else was I going to penetrate the organization unless I allowed myself to be taken?”
Carmen shook her head. “Bugiardo! Do I have to tell Antoneo to cut you off?” Her uncle’s faithful butler had been refilling their drinks on the terrace. “You seem to be under some sort of alcohol-induced delusion. I actually remember the details a little differently. Something about you passing out from fear, and then Mironov’s men taking you without even having to fire a shot.”
“So now the story is that I just passed out from fear, eh?”
The phone on the table next to Zane began to vibrate. He looked at the screen, frowned, and then excused himself.
“So tell me,” Amanda said after Zane walked down the hall. “Is this where you spend most of your time when you’re in Florence?”
“No, I’m usually at my parents’ house. I do visit Uncle Valente quite a bit, though.”
“Not to get personal, but why are we here and not with your parents?”
Carmen paused, trying to hear what Zane was saying in the other room. When she realized she couldn’t hear him, she said, “First of all, Uncle Valente has a much better view.” She gestured toward the city. “Second, we’re here because it was the only way Dr. Ross would approve it.”
Amanda seemed confused. “Huh?”
“I’d better explain. Dr. Ross was not happy about us coming here with you to begin with. Typically, when we finish an operation, we go dark for a few months at one of our black sites in the States. It gets us off the radar, and we use the time to train and recharge our batteries. And initially that is exactly what we were going to do. But then Zane and I came up with a crazy idea. We decided that you needed a real vacation, not just some time at home sitting in front of the TV. You were truly a big help, and we felt you deserved something special.”
“Really? You thought I was that important?”
“You put your life on the line. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen someone act in such a selfless way. You wanted to help find your father’s killer, and you didn’t seem the least bit concerned about what kind of danger that might put you in.” Carmen stared at her for a moment. “You were great, and we wanted you to have the best vacation possible.”
“You two are the best. You feel like the family I never had.” Amanda looked up as a flock of birds flew in front of the window and toward the city, as though drawn to its beauty. “But you said Dr. Ross didn’t want you to?”
“It’s not that he didn’t care about your recovery,” Carmen explained. “And he certainly didn’t have a problem with us paying for your vacation. But let’s just say he’s not one who violates organizational procedure very easily. There is a reason we do what we do, and in this case, he felt like we should follow procedure and go dark, especially since the Russian underworld is like a hornet’s nest right now. They get that way after one of their own is killed.” The Russian had died from his injuries a day after the events at CERN.
“To them he is a hero, a man Russians can be proud of. And they protect their own.” Carmen took another drink of wine. “Let me put it this way. If an operation arises in Russia or one of its former satellites, I seriously doubt Zane and I will be involved in any way.”
“So, how did you ever talk him into it?”