This is a fan-fiction. The author does not own the property of the original concept, or any characters from the original.
As sunlight flooded her room Marisa awoke. She wiped her eyes and sat up straight. As soon as focus came she surveyed the disaster that was her room, and the recalled the events that led to it...
Marisa completed her Elio imposed 1 week sentence (for stealing & crashing an SWA van into Claes' garden) in the Social Welfare Agency kitchen...in fact she had completed it with distinction and without complaint. The staff truly appreciated her ability to clean the unreachable corners of the ovens with her small hands, and scour the worst burnt grease clean with her cyborg strength. In a few days she was treated not as a prisoner, serving out a disciplinary term, but as an equal. She learned all about left-wing politics from the dishwashers, who considered themselves the "down-trodden proletariat," heard exciting sea stories from the janitor, who was an old navy man, and was even taught some basic cooking skills by the chefs. Mari learned one more thing; while the food in the dining hall was usually fairly good, the chefs saved their best work for the kitchen staff. When clean-up from one meal was complete, and before prep for the next the whole staff sat down and enjoyed truly gourmet fare at their leisure.
Mari's final day was a Friday, and after dinner was cleaned up, and all the pots, pans & dishes were put away, the staff led her to a surprise. Marisa was presented with a huge 3-layer sheet cake, frosted in pink & white. "This looks wonderful," she exclaimed, "But you're going to have to help me with it. Even I couldn't finish this whole thing!"
"This is our thanks for all your help this week," explained the stout Sicilian woman who was head chef "you take this back home and you'll be the most popular girl in the dorm. Now get going, and remember, you don't have to get yourself into trouble to come visit us!" They supplied her with a large tray and plastic cover. After goodbyes, thanks, and promises to come visit the kitchen staff frequently, Marisa carried the cake all the way back to the dormitory.
At first Marisa didn't know what was going to happen, but it didn't take long to turn into a full-blown party. Marisa invited her friends to come over, her room-mate Amelia got the bomb squad girls involved, and after that the word spread to all the rest of the cyborgs like wildfire. There were plenty of knives in the dorm, but it seemed like more fun to cut the cake with Triela's bayonet. Like magic, additional refreshments appeared out of thin air, Claes' teapot was working non-stop to satisfy demand, and plenty of soft-drinks (contraband in the dormitory) came out of their hiding places.
Soon Agapitha & Petrushka dragged a portable stereo system into the room, so now there was music, and the party overflowed into the hallway. Despite their subdued, almost robotic demeanor the bomb-squad girls demonstrated an uncanny talent for mastering any dance after seeing it only once. In short order the other girls were emulating them. With the weekend upon them, and no classes or training to worry about tomorrow the girls celebrated late...the curtains carefully drawn shut after official "lights out" time. For months to come cyborgs who were away on missions that night regretted that they had missed the most notable dormitory event in recent memory.
"We have made an error" said Amelia in her flat monotone.
"You're darned right we did...our room is trashed!" lamented Marisa, as she picked at the remains of the cake "Who's idea was it to have a party that big, anyway?"
"The party was not our error. The party was fun." Amelia corrected, "We should have provided plates. Paper towels from the bathroom were ineffective for our purposes."
"Well, we'd better get to work on this place before some adult sees it!" said Mari. Elio never set foot in the girls dorm, and Amelia's handler was a very hands-off guy, but others like Jean, Ferro & Hillshire were known to make surprise "quarters inspections," even on a weekend. At that moment there was a knock on the door. "Aww, crap! Already?" Marisa groaned, sure that they were busted.
It was not a room inspection though. Amelia opened the door, and her 3 bomb squad friends, Bella, Cora & Diana walked in, already equipped with cleaning supplies. "We are here to assist in the clean-up" announced Cora in a voice just as flat as Amelia's.
Marisa was happy, but dumbfounded "Thank you...but...this isn't even your room" she muttered.
"No it is not. It is Amelia's room, and yours as well" answered Bella, as she sprayed ammonia on the windows and wiped pink frosting (flicked there during a giggling cake-fight between Henrietta, Britney & Rico) off the glass.
"...and Amelia is our friend" added Diana, who was already collecting debris in a plastic trash bag.
"You have made an error of omission, Diana" corrected Bella, "Marisa is also our friend."
As she gathered trash, and wiped off the dresser tops, Marisa smiled. The rest of the dorm looked at the 4 bomb squad girls as bizarre & robotic, but those others had not gotten up early on a Saturday morning to help their friends clean up after a party. Mari could not help but admire & envy the unconditional loyalty & friendship these 4 had for each-other. It felt good to be included in that, even in a small way.
___________Palestine___________
The room, and even the hallway outside was clean, but no rest came for Marisa. No sooner had she flopped down on her bottom bunk, there was a knock on her open door. It was Claes, and Mari remembered that she still owed the dark haired girl 5 hours of "restitution" for the damage to her garden.
"Good, morning Marisa" she greeted, "do you have some time to help me in the garden?" It was obvious that she felt self-conscious about bringing it up.
"Sure thing!" Marisa replied, swinging her legs out of bed, and but stumbling awkwardly in an effort to pull her sneakers on quickly.
Avoiding eye contact, Claes felt the need to explain, "You understand, I didn't ask Mister Alboreto to make you work for me. Personally I thought you 3 got punished enough, and it was none of my business as long as the brick-work got fixed."
"It's no problem, Claes..."
"All the same," she continued, "I'm going to take advantage of it. I usually have to beg, bribe, and call in favors to get any help, so don't expect me to let you off without getting my full 5 hours worth."
Marisa nodded, and said, "I don't know if I've said this yet, but I'm really sorry."
"You've said it several times." muttered Claes, "So have Henrietta & Rico...to be honest I'm getting a little sick of it...I wouldn't mind not hearing it any more."
There were water cans to fill first, Marisa carried 2, but Claes could only handle one because of a brace on her left wrist, a result of her most recent testing injury. "Does that hurt?" Mari asked.
"Not right now" Claes answered, "Dr. Donato made sure I had enough painkillers to last the weekend. At least it's the left one this time, so I can still write."
"I've seen you write with both hands" Mari observed.
"It's harder with the left" she admitted. Claes paused for a minute, considering whether she wanted to tell her red-haired little sister the rest, but she finally continued, "What's really gross is when both of my arms are disabled."
"Ouch!" sympathized Mari "Wait a minute...what do you do when you have to...you know...use the bathroom?"
"Now you understand why it's so gross" chuckled Claes. She gazed up at the late morning sun and went on; "It's not all bad I suppose. All cyborgs get hurt in their duties, so I guess I'm no exception. You've probably been shot yourself."
This was an embarrassing topic for Marisa. She considered it an important milestone in her seasoning as an experienced cyborg, but was still nervous about catching her first bullet. Elio had been hit years ago, and he did not like to talk about the experience. "Not yet" she admitted.
"You will be, sorry to say." Claes sighed, "My life as the crash-test dummy has a few perks though." She leaned over to Marisa, as if telling a secret, and confided in her, "They use me to test pain-killers sometimes, and some of those can be very nice." The two laughed at that. By this time they had reached the garden, and for a few minutes Claes instructed Marisa on which plants needed water and exactly how much. "It's best to water them in the morning & evening, before the sun really starts beating down on them, or after it sets some."
"What's next?" Marisa asked, once the watering was done.
Claes shrugged her shoulders, "We're done for now."
"Huh?"
"I pulled weeds just yesterday, nothing is ready to pick today..." Claes reviewed, "if you're available this evening we could water again."
"That only took 10 minutes" sighed the younger cyborg.
Her senior grinned and replied, "I see...it's going to take a long time to work off 5 whole hours at this rate."
Marisa was immediately ashamed of her reaction and answered, "That's not what I meant."
"Sure it is...it doesn't change anything, so why be shy about how you feel?"
"You're not insulted?"
"As long as you're carrying my water cans and it doesn't cost me a half a bag of cookies you can feel any way you like" Claes told her "Maybe we'll just say it took 20 minutes this morning...because of the great party you hosted last night."
Marisa smiled sheepishly "I really am sorry about all this..."
"Ugh! I told you I was tired of hearing that!" snapped Claes, "You know, if you insist on apologizing to somebody you should go tell Mr. Ramsey you're sorry about all the grass you 3 tore up!"
"Mr. Ramsey?" asked Marisa, "I don't think I've met him."
Claes sat down on the brick wall and told her about Ramsey; "Mr. Galeb Ramsey is the head grounds-keeper of the SWA compound. He's the nicest and most forgiving man you will ever meet. If you asked him for one of his kidneys he'd come out in the middle of the night, in the pouring rain, just to bring it to you. When you 3 idiots drove a van all over his lawns he just laughed about it, and said the funny story was worth all the extra work fixing the damage. Honestly, if the world were made up of generous people like him there would be no need for people like us."
"How did he wind up working at a place like this?" asked Mari.
"Mr. Ramsey is a Palestinian," explained Claes "he lived in Hamas controlled territory in Israel...a simple gardener who tried to help everyone and keep his family safe from the troubles. One day, totally by accident, he became aware of a group of Israeli soldiers being held hostage in a building he had access to. They were being tortured by their captors every day. Mr. Ramsey couldn't just turn his back on them, so he helped the soldiers escape.
Hamas did not like this one bit. Mr. Ramsey and his whole family were sure to be killed, and that's where the SWA became involved. The Israeli Mossad arranged to have the family evacuated, but the militants captured Mr. Ramsey in the fire-fight. He could have escaped, but he stopped to help a wounded Mossad man...just like he always does when people need help. The Mossad could not mount another rescue, so they asked Section 2 for help. Just by luck, the Monty-Jethro fratello was coming back from a mission in Dubai and was able to take the job.
Long story short...they located the safe-house where Mr. Ramsey was being held, and Monty stormed it single-handed. She killed 6 Hamas terrorists and got Mr. Ramsey out, but they were still isolated in hostile territory with no air-lift available. Monty was cornered, but just as the terrorists closed in on them, here comes Jethro to the rescue in a black Volkswagen Kombi-van that some lunatic Belgian had installed a Porsche Turbo motor in. Nothing could catch them, and they reached safe territory by morning."
"So cool..." gasped Marisa, transfixed by the exciting story.
Claes continued; "Things got complicated after that. Monty was hit twice during the fight, and Ramsey saw everything. There was no way to keep Section 2's secret, so Chief Lorenzo arranged refugee status for Mr. Ramsey and his whole family, and they were moved to Italy, with a guaranteed job for Mr. Ramsey as SWA groundskeeper."
"That's a great story!" Marisa exclaimed.
The dark haired girl gave a little frown, and admitted, "Sadly, it's not a totally happy ending. Mr. Ramsey's oldest son felt that his father had shamed the family by helping Israeli soldiers in the first place. He stayed behind and probably joined Hamas. Mr. Ramsey hasn't spoken to him since, but still holds out hope...he writes his son a letter every month, but he's never gotten a reply. Sorry to end the story on a downer," Claes apologized, "but real life doesn't always turn out like a fairy tale."
__________Room Numbers____________
Important news had reached Elio, but he was having a very difficult time finding his cyborg to brief her about it. Nobody was answering the telephone in her room, and he was unable to find a runner he could send to fetch Marisa. It was Saturday so there were few staff members in the office...specifically few female staff members, a point Elio considered important.
After his 5th attempt at the phone a woman passed by his office, so he rushed out into the hallway to catch her. "Umm, Ferro, could I ask you a big favor?" he asked.
"Sure thing, Mr. A" replied the agent. Like many of his younger colleagues she referred to Alboreto as a Mister, but at least Ferro contracted it to the less formal Mr. A.
"I know it's Saturday, and you'd rather get done and go home early, but I can't seem to get in touch with my cyborg, she isn't answering the phone. Would you mind checking the dormitory for her?"
Ferro grimaced and replied, "Why don't you go yourself?"
"Well, it's a girl's dormitory, and I'm..." he struggled, "...a man."
"That's not an issue" Ferro muttered, "all you handlers are men, and all of you have full access to the dormitory." God, this guy is uptight, she thought.
"It just...doesn't seem right" he answered, "I'm a grown man, I'm a little old for panty-raids."
"Do you mean to say you've never even seen your cyborg's dorm room?" she asked. He nodded, and almost seemed proud of the fact. Ferro sighed, and wagged the corner of her files at him as she walked away down the corridor. "Remind me to tell you about Lauro one of these day, when I'm not trying to finish up and enjoy the weekend" she concluded "Go over there and look for her...it will do you both some good!"
Defeated, pressed for time, and out of options, Elio admitted what he must do. He would go someplace he had not dared to go in 35 years of clandestine service. He would enter a girls dormitory.
It was a pleasant day by then, just before noon, so most of the girls were outside enjoying the sun. There was an informal soccer game going on in front of the building, with an uneven number of girls on the sides, and an old Palestinian man keeping score, clapping & cheering for both teams. That left just a few girls inside, so when Elio finally did enter he found little help in navigating the building. None of the doors had names, or even numbers on them "Got to talk to Jean about that" he resolved. At last Alboreto was left with no option but to knock on random doors until he found Marisa.
The first two doors he tried yielded no response, but the 3rd opened. "Oh, hi Mr.
Alboreto, what can I do for you?" asked Triela, cheerfully. She was dressed in only a sport bra & spandex bicycle shorts.
"Sorry, I didn't..." the uncomfortable man stumbled "...I can wait until you're dressed."
"I am dressed" Triela chuckled.
"Then get more dressed, Triela!" Elio insisted. He turned her by the shoulders and gently pushed her back into her room.
Triela grumbled under her breath "Jeeze, worse than Hillshire..." Luckily, Claes was out watering her garden so she grabbed her room-mate's fluffy pink bath robe and returned to the door.
That wasn't much better in Elio's opinion, but it wasn't his responsibility to instruct someone else's trainee about the appropriate way to receive a gentleman at her door. Besides, the clock was ticking. "I'm sorry to be a nuisance, but do you know where I can find Marisa?"
"She's not in her room?" asked the blonde girl.
"I don't know where that is" he admitted.
Triela was surprised, but eager to help, "Umm...sure, it's right down this way," she led him down the hall "where we had the party last ni..." she froze, conscious that she had said too much.
"The what?"
"The study party!" Triela covered, her face flushing pink, "A bunch of us get together in a different room each night to study our class-work. Last night we worked on languages."
Luckily he fell for the lie. "That sounds good" Elio replied with a smile, "Mari needs to work on her French & German."
"Well...Mr. Hillshire definitely makes sure I'm sharp on my German!" she laughed nervously. Conditioning made her a little uncomfortable & queasy as she lied to an agency adult, but it was preferable to him finding out about the previous night's blow-out, which had gone on until 3am. That should remain a cyborgs-only secret, especially since Mr. Alboreto's own cyborg had kicked it off. "Here it is!" she said, pointing out Marisa's door.
"Thanks for your help, Triela" he told her.
"No problem, sir." She hurried back down the hall to her room, eager to return Claes' robe before she noticed it gone.
Alboreto reached out to knock on the door, but was startled by a voice behind him. "Elio? What are you doing here?" Marisa asked, having just gotten back from helping Claes, "Is something wrong?" Like Triela, she worried that Elio had found out about the events of last night. Stay calm, Mari...bad time for an anxiety attack.
"Nothing wrong" answered her handler, "we have a mission."
"Great!" she exclaimed, with relief "I'll get my bag right now!" She opened her door and darted inside. "How long will we be gone?" she asked.
Elio stepped into her room and regarded the decor. "This room is really..." he began, but paused. Marisa froze, sure he could tell she had hosted the party of the century last night. He is the best spy in the world, she considered, how did I ever think I could fool him?
But Elio continued, "...empty" and Marisa breathed easy. "We need to get you some stuff to dress this place up a little."
"It's okay I guess" replied the cyborg, "We only stay here between missions anyway."
"Oh yeah, the mission!" Elio was reminded, "Just a short one, maybe overnight in Pescara. It's a diving mission."
The relaxed Saturday atmosphere was shattered by an ear splitting scream, as Marisa pumped her fist in the air, and ran in place for a few seconds. "Yes! I can't wait! Is it deep? Are we bringing the Hammerhead's?"
"No, just a shallow job in the artificial harbor" replied Elio, his ears still ringing, "we won't need the mixed gas rebreathers, we'll just take the oxygen units. Public Safety thinks there's a Mafia caporegime on a private yacht out there and Jean wants us to check it out. He and Rico are loading their gear his Mercedes right now"
"Jean and Rico are going?" Marisa asked, her excitement instantly turning to uncertainty "They can't even dive."
"They're our back-up" Elio assured her, "We might need extra help bringing in that capo if we do catch him." This would be Marisa's first experience at joint operations with another fratello, and he understood her doubts. She'd been doing much better lately, but she did not want to break down and have a "Marisa moment" on a mission, especially in front of Mister Croce. "It's going to be fine, Mari" comforted Elio, "we're the primary fratello on this outing, they're just going along to make things easier for us."
"Yes, Sir" she replied, forcing a smile, "Give me 5 minutes...I'll get my bag ready."
____________Foreplay________________
Going on a joint operation was proving to be different. For one, Marisa was relegated to the back seat of Jean's Mercedes CL550. She always rode in the front passenger seat when it was just her & Elio. She sat back there with Rico, who chattered happily about nonsense. Mari tried to be courteous, and not ignore her, but she was desperately trying to pay attention to Jean & Elio's conversation, scanning their words for clues about the mission. Mostly, though, the two men talked about things other than the mission. During these times Marisa's attention wandered...she listened to Rico tell her about the train she rode on with Angelica, or the number of teddy bears in Triela's room. Several times Marisa's attention snapped back to Jean & Elio's conversation, and she was sure that she had missed something important.
"Are you bringing SCUBA tanks with you?" Rico asked.
Finally a topic Marisa was interested in. She tried to explain an oxygen rebreather in a simple way; "We only need a small O2 bottle for the gear we're going to use. Since it's shallow water Elio & I can breathe pure oxygen. The oxygen we don't use with each breath, and exhale, will pass around in a loop. It goes through a kind of filter, called the scrubber, that takes the carbon-dioxide out, then we can breathe it again. Every time Elio or I start to use up our O2, and the loop starts to get empty, we inject more from the bottle. We never waste any gas by blowing bubbles, so the bottle can last us a long time."
"Good explanation, Marisa" praised Elio. It made her feel good to know he was paying attention.
"Jean has something like a SCUBA tank that he keeps hidden in his trunk." Rico told her "I saw it when I got to change his flat tire one day. I was clumsy, and knocked the hose off, and some gas came out. I sniffed the gas to see what it was, and it made my head feel silly! After that Jean closed the valve and had to finish changing the tire himself because I was really dizzy."
"Rico, quiet!" snapped Croce. Elio stifled a laugh. Nitrous Oxide, he thought, Jean you sneaky bastard! Jean said nothing about it, but the older agent noticed that he drove 10kph faster after Rico had let his Mercedes' secret slip out.
It took 2 hours to cross the from Rome on the west coast to Pescara on the east. The biggest city of the Abruzzo region had no natural harbor, but there was a large artificial one, which was always packed with pleasure boats. It was one of these pleasure boats that the 2 fratelli were seeking. It was easy to drive out to the seaward side of the harbor...Jean parked the Benz and the 2 handlers scanned the harbor with binoculars. Rico seemed content to wait for orders, but Marisa tried to make herself useful. "What are we looking for?" asked the red-headed girl.
"A boat" muttered Jean, never lowering his binoculars.
Elio had a little more faith in his cyborg's ability to help, so he explained "According to Public Safety it's a 16 meter Ferretti 510, white hull with gold accents. It'll have a long overhang over a short back deck."
"Do we know the hull registration number?" asked Marisa.
"They didn't give us one" replied her handler, "they said the boat we're looking for is named Foreplay."
"What does that mean?" asked Marisa naively.
"You don't worry about that," ordered Elio, "it doesn't concern you."
Eager to prove her usefulness, Marisa suggested "Maybe I should do some recon and ask around. I could walk around the marina asking for Foreplay." Jean gave a brief chuckle and went back to searching.
Her handler groaned, and replied "I'm not even going to explain how wrong that sounds." They were looking straight into the west...into the setting sun, and that made the search difficult.
"Jean" called Rico from the window of the Mercedes.
"What is it?" he grumbled.
"You're looking for a white & gold boat called Foreplay?"
"Yes Rico, that's what we've been doing."
"There it is, out there" she pointed out. The 2 men turned to see where she was pointing. There was a boat about a kilometer out to sea...nothing but a speck to their human eyes. Marisa hopped up on a large rock for a higher vantage point. "She's right" confirmed the red-head. They had all been looking in the wrong direction.
"Do you see a bow wake?" asked Elio, "Are they underway?"
"No..." said Marisa, straining to pick out some details. Elio handed her his binoculars, they were more useful in the hands of a cyborg. "Alright...I see a bow line, they're anchored off. 4 people on the back deck, 2 males, 2 females."
"Describe the men" ordered Jean.
"One bald, very overweight, he's seated so I can't tell his height. The other has dark curly hair and a moustache. He's tall."
Croce turned to Elio and said, "Neither fits the description of our target, it might not be worth boarding the boat."
"There might be more people inside" Alboreto reminded him, "A Ferretti 510 has 2 cabins, right?"
"Three" Jean corrected, "how close do we have to get you in order to make the dive?"
"The tide is going out...we can make the swim from here" Elio assured him, "I'd rather wait until nightfall, it will be dark in an hour or two, we won't have to wait for long."
Jean looked out at the water and quietly replied, "Alright, better you than me though. Diving out into an open sea, full of sharks, at night, that's got to be about a half dozen phobias rolled into one." For personal reasons, he did not care for the ocean much.
"Leave all that to us" Elio replied with a smile.
"No argument there" muttered Croce, as he walked away, adding "Marisa, good work." He did not praise Rico for locating the boat in the first place, but she did not seem to mind.
Not long after dusk, Elio & Marisa left Jean & Rico on the sea-wall. They each took a compass bearing before sliding into the dark water. "5 meters depth" Elio had instructed, "any shallower and we could run into trouble with boats, any deeper and we'll be risking oxygen toxicity."
Mari watched her depth in the LCD display of her Aeris CompuMask...it's tiny backlight was the only glimmer in the almost total blackness. She loved having a dive computer in a spot where she could check it "hands free," but it worried her that Elio did not use one. She frequently checked left to make sure her dive partner was still close, but he was never more than a meter or two away. It would be easy to kick too fast and out-distance her handler, it had happened a few times in training. Marisa's cyborg legs could propel her through the water faster than any regular human, but she'd burn up a lot of energy & oxygen doing it. Every now and then she would hear the drone of a boat propeller pass overhead...they had the potential to kill even a cyborg if they hit one the wrong way.
The flow of the outgoing tide pushed them out to sea quickly...it would be easy to overshoot their target if the fratello was not careful. Mari occasionally caught a flash of blue light to her left and knew Elio was checking his watch & compass. It should take just under an hour to make the swim, aided by the tide. That was a long time to stay focused in total darkness. Mari regulated her breathing and timed it with her mantra, repeating the name of her friend Mama Galati, over and over in her mind. She thought of how the old woman had suffered all her life at the hands of villains like the one she was hunting tonight, and it freshened her resolve to do the job well.
A quick tap on the shoulder. Marisa could just make out Elio hovering next to her in the gloom, giving the thumbs up sign. To most this meant okay or cool but to a diver it was the signal for time to ascend. Had an hour passed already?
The two broke surface less than 25 meters from the white & gold Foreplay. "Not bad at all!" whispered Elio, giving his student a silent high-five. They took a new compass bearing and plunged back under for the final approach.
They had practiced boarding small vessels, both in the daylight and the dark, but this was the first time she'd done it on a real mission. There was absolutely no talking between the fratello...even hand signals slowed them down. The 2 discarded unnecessary gear, clipping their fins & emergency bailout bottles to the anchor line. Elio grabbed that same line and checked that it would hold his weight (also ensuring that it was not rigged with an alarm, or booby trapped). He held it tight while Mari climbed up on his shoulder and hopped up to the bow. She checked left & right with her H&K P11 underwater pistol drawn, but there were no guards. Next she extended a hand to her boss, and effortlessly lifted him out of the water and onto the bow. The pair doffed the rebreather units and left them on deck.
He pointed at the front hatch and motioned for her to stay here. She tossed her hands up in protest but her motioned that he would signal her when she was needed. At least the hatch was made of clear (but dark tinted) plastic, so she could keep an eye on things.
Elio climbed down the starboard side of the vessel with his own P11 leading the way. This might have been new for Marisa, but he was an old pro at jobs like this. Nobody was on the back deck, so he crept to the rear door. He counted the same 4 individuals Mari had seen before...2 girls in bikinis, partying & pouring wine, a fat bald man, and a tough looking guy with curly hair and a moustache. Take care of him first.
Following a attack plan he had used many times before Elio crept into the shadows, and knocked over a wine bottle left on deck. The curly-haired man lifted his head and looked, but dismissed the sound as his attention returned to the girl sitting on his lap. With a frustrated sigh, Elio tried harder. This time he kicked over a table, and the noise was impossible to ignore.
The big man dumped the girl off his lap unceremoniously. "Asshole!" she spat, bouncing off the floor roughly, as the fat man and the other girl laughed. All mouths were quickly shut when their companion drew his pistol. He boldly slid the glass door open and poked his head outside to see what was going on. For his trouble he received the butt of Elio's P11 to the back of his skull.
"That has got to be the worst bodyguard I've ever seen" muttered Alboreto, striding into the cabin like he owned the place. He gave a quick look around. I would like to own this place, he considered, but it was a pipe dream...this was a million-euro yacht and Lorenzo didn't pay him that well.
"Who the fuck are you?" growled the fat man, putting on a false show of bravado.
"Forgive my rudeness, but I believe it is customary for the person holding the gun to ask the questions." he said facetiously, "Ladies, you are extremely beautiful, but I fear we will be unable to enjoy the pleasure of your company for the remainder of the night. I'm afraid I have to ask you to head back to shore." He gave a quick glance to Marisa, who was watching through the forward hatch. The young cyborg practically trembled with rage when he called the girls beautiful, but she controlled herself admirably and continued to obey orders.
"How the fuck are we supposed to get back to shore?" hissed the blonde, who despite already seeing the bodyguard knocked out, and a gun pointed at her sugar-daddy, did not feel any great personal risk to herself. After all, she was hot, and that made her immune to harm.
"This boat had a dingy, right?" growled the grey-haired spy, "Row your ass to shore."
"Is this guy for real?" whined her friend, an equally stunning brunette with green eyes. Elio knocked his P11 against her forehead painfully and growled "Does nobody on this boat understand what this pistol is for? Get your gorgeous asses in that dingy right bloody now or I'm going to demonstrate!"
Stepping over the unconscious bodyguard, the two women finally left, cursing and flipping Elio off as they launched the inflatable boat and struggled to get into it. He offered no help as they shoved off and paddled back toward the lights of Pescara. As the bimbos passed around the front of the boat they noticed a shadowy figure standing on the bow, also keeping a pistol trained on them in a gesture that sent the unambiguous message keep moving. This second figure looked short, and seemed to be wearing...pigtails.
"Now what?" growled the fat man, "You fuck up my bodyguard, you run off my girls, what the fuck do you want anyway?"
"Gianlucca Neri was on this bucket earlier today" said Elio, sitting down on a silk upholstered couch across from the rotund gangster. His dripping wetsuit soaked the cushions with salt water.
"Never heard of him" muttered the bald man.
"Yeah, I'll bet..." Elio replied, "...Marisa! Come on down here!" With a crash and a cascade of shattered plastic the cyborg burst into the cabin. Her handler rolled his eyes at her unnecessarily dramatic entrance. "You could have just opened the hatch."
Still, Marisa's over-enthusiastic ingress proved effective. The fat mafiosi looked ready to have a heart attack. His tough-guy resolve was shattered along with his forward hatch. "Old men, little girls? Who the fuck are you people!?"
Allowing the tension to build, Elio did not answer him. "Check the cabins, the engine room, anywhere else you can think of" he ordered his cyborg, never moving up from the sofa. Before she could respond the bodyguard began to groan and rise from his spot in the open doorway. "Take care of that first" he added, motioning toward the curly-haired man. Marisa lightly scampered to the back deck and fetched a gaff hook from a rack of fishing gear. Without a second's hesitation she slammed it into the back of his skull, and the man moved no more.
The fat man was sweating profusely, and breathing in ragged gasps. Better question this guy before he goes into cardiac arrest, considered Alboreto. "So we were talking about Segniore Neri..." he began, calmly.
The gangster stammered his reply, "He was on h-here, partying, but he didn't like the g-g-girls so he split!"
"How long ago?"
"This afternoon! He had some g-guys with him that took h-him off in a launch!"
Good information, keep it coming, thought Elio..."How many guys?"
"Six, I saw six!" the mafiosi exclaimed. He began clutching his right arm and rubbing it feverishly.
Aww damn, this fat bastard is really having a fucking heart attack! It was unlikely that this fool was smart enough to fake it as a distraction. "Marisa, get in here and keep an eye on this guy!" he called to the cyborg, "Don't make him nervous," he whispered to her, "just be ready to stop any funny business." Mari nodded. Elio got up and checked the head for some aspirin, finding a bottle in a cabinet above the toilet, along with a sack of weed (which he pocketed) and some cocaine.
"Chew a few of these" Elio advised the fat man, handing him the aspirin with a glass of water, an act that drew a puzzled stare from Marisa. "I'm not here for you, I want Gianlucca Neri, so relax and breathe. Now where did he go?"
His face was red now, "Safe-house on the Colle Marino, I don't know the address!" the fat gangster literally cried.
"That's better than nothing..." Elio muttered to Marisa, "let's go back and tell Croce what we found out."
"You want me to finish off this malvivente off before we go?" she asked, brandishing the bloody gaff hook. That was all it took to push him over the edge. The fat man gasped for air and rolled out of his seat. Elio checked his pulse. "Weak...no...it's gone" he muttered. Marisa stared at the body, her sea-grey eyes as wide as Elio had ever seen them. "Are you okay?" he asked.
"Wow...did I just kill that guy without even touching him?" she said with a smile.
The handler did bother to not give her a reply. "We can leave this guy here, he died of natural causes, but dump the bodyguard the usual way...try not to make too much of a mess when you cut him up. There should be some chains for weight in the forward locker. When you finish we'll fetch out gear off the anchor line. I'm going to fire the engines up."
"We're not swimming back?" the cyborg asked.
"Why bother?" Elio chuckled, "Let's just take the boat."
The work of dumping the bodyguard and cleaning up the deck took almost 2 hours. Elio said he wanted to go further offshore & dispose of the body in deeper water, but Mari suspected that he just wanted to drive the 1,460 hp boat a bit. She didn't complain though...he gave her a turn at the wheel on the way back in.
Jean & Rico were waiting in the marina when Elio pulled up in the Ferretti. "Hold her in position while I tie up" he told Marisa, drawing a grin from his student. She worked the throttles and rudder skillfully as her handler left the wheelhouse. Jean stood and watched as Rico dashed to catch the lines and tie up the craft. Since Rico had never handled a boat before she had no idea what she was doing, but Elio didn't care since he was abandoning the vessel right here anyway. When he gave the signal, Mari cut the engines off. "Wipe the controls! No fingerprints!" he reminded.
"That's not really necessary" Jean informed him, "the cyborgs don't have skin oils that leave fingerprints, like we do."
"I know," muttered the older man, "but Mari made some sandwiches in the galley so there's probably mayonnaise on the throttles right now."
"You guys want one?" Marisa called out.
"We ate at the marina restaurant while you were working!" Rico answered cheerfully, "I had spaghetti!"
"Sounds cool! Hey, Rico guess what...I killed a bad guy just by threatening him! I didn't even touch the guy!"
"That's great!"
"Mari, he was already having a heart attack" groaned Elio, getting a little annoyed.
"It still counts" she replied, defiantly.
While the girls chattered about their respective dinners, Jean & Elio reviewed what they had so far. "The bald guy told me there's a safe house in the Marino Hill area, but he was pretty useless beyond that" explained Alboreto.
"Well, it's something" sighed Jean, "maybe we can set up a stake-out, but that will take time..."
"Jean..."
"Not now, Rico."
"Jean, this is important." she persisted. He turned to face her. "A phone is ringing on the boat."
The two men dashed to catch it at full speed! The younger Jean Croce was much faster, but he slipped on the wet deck (where Marisa had scrubbed the bodyguard's blood off), so they arrived in the cabin at the same moment. "Don't answer it! Write down the number and Public Safety can track it down for us!" said Jean. Elio feverishly looked for paper (he always carried his own pen), tripping over the body of the fat mafiosi and nearly winding up on his face.
The phone stopped ringing.
"Shit!" growled Croce, stabbing at the buttons, trying to recall the number, "I only got the first 4!"
"085-78342" said Rico, who had followed them inside.
"Good job!" sighed Alboreto.
"Are you sure?" Jean asked her, "You were over 4 meters away."
My eyes were good enough to locate this boat for you, Rico thought, Of course I can read a telephone number. Rico didn't say what was on her mind though, she only replied "Yes, Sir."
Public Safety took another hour getting the information for them, and it seemed to be a bust. It was a cell phone...and tracking showed it nowhere near the Colle Marino neighborhood. Still, it was the only lead they had, so after Marisa & Elio used the shower aboard Foreplay to wash up from their dive the 2 fratelli went to check it out.
________A Helpful Woman______
"Alboreto, are you in position?"
"Affirmative, Jean" he answered over the radio, "I've got Marisa watching the fire escape, so we have all 3 exits to the building covered."
They were watching an 8-unit apartment complex in the San Silvestro neighborhood. Jean & Rico had the front door, Elio & Marisa had split up to cover the back. Rico tugged her master's sleeve. "Jean, activity at the west door."
"Check" acknowledged Croce, "single female, about 22 years of age, blonde."
"Is she hot?" asked Elio.
"Get serious Alboreto!" he snapped.
Elio defended himself, "I am serious, she sounds familiar."
"Yes..." growled Jean, "...in my opinion she is attractive." Rico bristled at his admission. The cyborg hoped she would get the chance to kill this woman tonight.
"Wait right there, I'm going to check her out" said Elio. He hurried around the block, and carefully spied at her from the corner. "That's one of the hookers I threw off the yacht, stop her!"
"Check...stop that woman, Rico!"
Nothing could have made her happier at that moment. Rico ran across the street at full speed and tackled the blonde straight into a bunch of garbage cans. Her handler arrived on the scene just in time to pick his cyborg up by the collar and pull her off. "That's enough, stand down."
"What the fuck! Is that your kid?" the woman cursed, "You better have a good lawyer because I'm going..."
"Shut the hell up" Jean growled. He opened his jacket and flashed his gun.
Elio arrived on the scene. "You again!?" she exclaimed, "What the fuck is wrong with you people? You bust Cicci in the head with your gun, throw me off Luciano's yacht and make me & Samara row all the way back. Now I get home and as soon as I try to leave the house some fucking kid throws me in the garbage!"
Elio got straight to the point. "You called Luciano's yacht about an hour and a half ago" he said, "what is your connection with those men?"
"I'm not a hooker, if that's what you mean!" she lied, "That fuck-bag Gianlucca left the party early because he said he had more important things to do, now he calls me back and tells me he wants me over at his place! Asshole."
"Gianlucca Neri?" muttered Jean, although given the coincidence it was obvious.
"Yeah, I guess, I dunno" she muttered.
Jean took Elio by the arm and pulled him aside. "Is it possible that we've really gotten this lucky," he conjectured, "or is this a trap?"
"If this is a set-up it's an awfully random one" said Alboreto. "I think it's worth following this lead." Jean nodded to confirm that he was thinking along the same lines.
As the two men returned to where Rico and the prostitute were standing they observed the woman & the cyborg exchanging vicious scowls. Jean knew he had to get rid of Rico for a few minutes before she did something stupid. "Go fetch Marisa, she's still behind the apartment complex." He could have just as easily summoned her by radio.
"Are you sure I should leave her alone with you?" asked the girl, jealousy still evident in her high-pitched voice, "She might have a weapon." Croce just motioned for her to get going.
"Can I get out of here?" asked the woman, "I gotta get a taxi and get over to Gianlucca's place or he'll only pay half price."
"I thought you weren't a hooker" teased Alboreto. "Forget the taxi, we're all gonna go over to Gianlucca's place together and have a nice chat. We're old friends of his."
"Fuck you anyway...you ain't no goddamn cop so why am I even talking to you?"
Jean was quick to answer, "Because if you don't co-operate you'll wind up at the bottom of the Adriatic with Cicci." That got her attention.
The 5 made the trip across town in Jean's Benz, the hooker crammed in the back-seat between 2 young girls who seemed freakishly strong & didn't like her at all. "Maybe I ought to ride in the back with her..." Elio suggested, fearing for the safety of their only informant.
"That'll cost you 200 euros...and a whole lot more if you want the runts to watch" she replied. Even grim & jaded Jean Croce was caught off guard by that comment, his jaw dropped open and he turned around in the drivers seat, eyes wide with disbelief. "Shit, I done stranger things...watch the road, blond-boy, before you kill us all."
It was a short 10km from the San Silvestrino neighborhood to Colle Marino, but it took a long time in traffic. The prostitute/informant was getting impatient. "You should have taken the fucking Autostrada SS16!" she complained. The girls shot each other knowing glances...they were both happily confident they'd eventually get to kill this annoying woman (whom their respective handlers had called beautiful & attractive).
At last, they arrived at a 2 story villa. It was near midnight by now. "You sure this is the place?" Elio asked their informant.
"I ought to know, I been here plenty" she muttered, "so are we going inside or not?"
"We are," he told her, "you are gonna have to catch that cab."
"What!?" exclaimed all 3 females in the back-seat! The hooker launched into a spectacular stream of expletives while Rico & Marisa pouted. "I am sick of getting jerked around by you two assholes! This is how I pay my fucking rent, and you fuck me around all goddamn day! Fuck you guys! Fuck you!"
Jean peeled 400 euros off his "bribery roll" and jammed them into her hand. "Let me make this clear...you never saw any of us. You will never mention any of this to anyone as long as you live, or you won't live long."
The girls were surly & disappointed as they made an inspection loop around the building. "Be as invisible as you can manage" Elio instructed both of them, "It's after midnight, so your cover as 11 year olds is pretty useless. I'm sure some small-fry capo like Neri doesn't know about you girls like the Padania does, but 2 kids walking the streets at this hour still isn't normal."
Jean's Mercedes was parked around the corner from the building. He spoke a little while the two men got their weapons ready. "My family used to come here every year for the Jazz Festival."
"Yeah, Pescara Jazz Fest is here every July," Elio commented, "I came down for that first time in...'78 or '79 I guess. Are you a big fan?"
"I like it enough," Croce explained, "really it was my mother who loved jazz. Dad was always so busy with work that he made a big deal about making the time for a trip that she would enjoy. Giuse & I were young, so we were into our own kind of music and we considered it kind of boring, but Dad would never let us skip out on the trip. It was important to Mom. Rico was just little, but she loved any kind of music..."
"Who?" asked Elio, not sure he had heard Jean correctly.
"Enrica...our younger sister" Croce answered, but Alboreto was sure he'd said something different.
The cyborgs returned with their report. "No lights on the second floor, only the first. There are at least 8 men inside. All of them are in the living room." Rico informed them.
Jean sighed. He really felt like they should have another fratello for this. "Alright, Rico, you will enter via the kitchen, Elio, you send Marisa through a front window. Hopefully we can get them in a crossfire, but watch out for friendly fire. Elio, we will block any escape at the front door."
"Check!" the 2 cyborgs said in unison. They were focused and ready...the disappointment of not being allowed to kill the prostitute had passed quickly. Marisa checked over her Kel-Tech, but because of space constraints in Jean's trunk her blonde counterpart was without a rifle.
"Do you want to use my G3, Rico?" Elio offered. It made sense, the cyborgs would be leading the attack.
"Really?" she asked, feeling under-prepared with just her CZ-75. Rico looked to Jean for his permission, but he didn't seem to have an opinion on the matter. Mr. Alboreto knelt down and ran her through the operation cycle of the weapon, and a few clearing procedures. Rico surprised him by taking in all the information after just once demonstration.
"It's a long rifle, but you're used to that, aren't you?" he asked, "What about the optics? Are they going to get in your way?"
Rico was not accustomed to being asked how she felt about configuring a weapon. "Can you take it off?" she asked, "We're going to be too close to use it." Elio nodded, and removed the scope off the H&K G3/SG1. He gave a quick glance to his own trainee, concerned that she would react badly to him helping another cyborg, but to his relief she was taking it well. Marisa seemed proud that her handler was the one providing support to Mr. Croce's cyborg. The emotional tangle of loyalties, jealousies, pride and neediness that motivated these girls was baffling sometimes.
______________The Raid________________
Rico was first inside. She found an unexpected guard at the back (kitchen) door, but he was sleeping. She dispatched him silently with a kitchen knife before sneaking into the hallway, where she could hear the 8 targets laughing and discussing mafia business. "I want Neri alive" her handler had ordered. Rico tried to pick him out of the group but from her angle she could not see faces. She wished Jean was with her, but the adults would be entering through the front of the building once the shooting started.
She checked her watch. 7 seconds to go. She gave Mr. Alboreto's G3 rifle a last check, making sure she had a round chambered already and the safety off. Right on cue Marisa came crashing through the window...enough of a distraction for Rico to come out of hiding and fire 6 shots into the living room.
3 men were down before Mari brought her weapon to bear, spraying the couch with full-automatic fire and killing 2 more. The surviving men abandoned their comrades & ran for the nearest escape, and straight into the barrels of Jean & Elio's pistols. The 2 men had attacked the front door with the intention of breaking it down, only to find it unlocked...perhaps in anticipation of the blonde hooker's arrival.
"Just freeze!" Croce ordered. He looked the 3 survivors, all on their knees by now, over...none of them were Gianlucca Neri. "Cover these guys" he growled, hoping the girls hadn't already shot the caporegime. He checked the 5 bodies in the living room...he wasn't there. "Bad news, Alboreto" announced Jean.
"Is he dead?" asked the older man.
"Not even here" muttered Jean. He returned to the hallway and grabbed one of the prisoners by the hair. "We want Gianlucca Neri, the first one to give him up might spare themself a knife across the throat!" None of the mafiosi opened their mouth. "Rico, start with this one...hurt him until he talks."
"What the fuck!?" protested the prisoner, "Police can't do that!"
Croce lit a cigarette. "We're not police" he muttered, "get to work Rico."
"Yes Si....lookout!" she raised the alarm just in time. Occupied by other things all 4 of the SWA operatives failed to notice another unexpected man creep out of the shadows and attack Elio. He registered Rico's warning just in time and side-stepped to avoid a knife blow, but the 3 prisoners used the distraction to fight back. The one Jean had grabbed by the hair swung his leg and kicked his cyborg's feet from under her. Marisa dropped down on one knee and blasted the other two with her Kel-Tech, while Rico swung around on her back and delivered a counter kick that broke the mans leg. Jean finished him off with a stomp to the neck.
Alboreto was locked in a wrestling match of equals with the new attacker, who was much younger than he. Unfortunately he was also dumber, Elio grabbed a pen from the man's own pocket and slammed it into his neck. In seconds, he too was dead.
"That was amateur" Jean panted, "We've got to stop counting on luck."
"You've got that right" Elio agreed, "Girls, clear the rest of the building...carefully."
Rico obeyed her orders, but indignantly thought, "I saw the man like I was supposed to, I did my job, how was that luck?" She swept each room on the ground floor while Mari took the upper level & the two adults telephoned Public Safety for a cleaning crew. Neither cyborg found any more mafiosi but Rico found something interesting in the last closet she checked, "Jean...trap door!" she called out.
"Don't open it!" warned her handler, fearing a booby trap.
Elio spoke into his radio "Mari, come back downstairs as soon as you've finished your sweep."
Croce passed a pen sized electronic explosive "sniffer" around the trap door. It wasn't as good as the nose of Beatrice, but it was the best they had, based on technology developed for the late cyborg. Elio pulled out a credit card and slipped it around the door gap to check for hidden wires.
"Looks okay" said the older man, "given how unprepared the rest of them were I don't expect any complicated security system to be in place."
"We should still go first" Rico told him. It drew no reaction from Jean, not surprising.
It went against Elio's instincts, but he knew she was right. This was the cyborg's job, their lot in life and he would just have to get used to it. "Marisa, you follow Rico's lead. She's got a lot more experience than you...she's done this dozens of times."
The blonde cyborg felt a lump in her throat, what Mr. Alboreto said wasn't exactly true. She was usually safe in the sniper's position, or she followed Triela's lead on a raid. As far back as she could remember this was the first time she was expected to lead a raid. Take deep breaths, don't screw up. Make Jean happy. She whispered to Marisa "I'll drop down first, you hang upside down in the door and cover me if I take fire. Once I've cleared the first room you drop down with me."
"Check" replied the pigtailed red-head with a smile. She gave her rifle one last check...Rico would not be taking Elio's long G3 into a dark cellar of unknown size, so her Kel-Tech would be their only machine gun, it better be working right. "Ready?" she asked, grasping the rope for the trap door. Her counterpart nodded, and she swung the door, Rico leapt down before it was even all the way open. Next Marisa plunged her head into the pitch darkness, sweeping left & right before her eyes even adjusted to the lack of light.
"Clear...2 doors" called out Rico. Mari flipped down (mimicking the way her room-mate Amelia got out of bed each morning) and assumed a position back to back with Rico. "Jean, close the trap door please" requested the mission leader in a confident voice. Her handler complied cutting off all light & giving the cyborgs with their advanced eyes a tactical advantage.
"Do you hear any breathing?" Marisa whispered.
"Negative" answered Rico. She checked the first door, it was an empty closet. Marisa found that the other door led into a wine cellar.
Jean casually smoked a cigarette amongst the dead bodies in the hallway while Elio paced the floor uncomfortably. It went against his instincts to be left out of the fight, but this was how things were done at the SWA. The cyborgs were better suited to carry out tasks like this, so he would just have to get used to it. "How long did Public Safety say it would be until the cleaning crew would arrive?"
"They didn't say" Croce answered, "an hour or two at least. P.S. has a branch office near by in Teramo but it's not 24 hour. They have to wake staff up and get them on the road."
"Hope we have this wrapped up by then" sighed Alboreto, "this was supposed to be a simple job and it's taking all night." Jean only shrugged his shoulders and took another drag on his smoke.
Two gunshots, muffled by the floor and the carpet, but unmistakable, broke the silence. Both men froze and listened. Two more shots, followed by a burst of machine gun fire, and then nothing. "Sounds like they got someone" muttered Jean, "hope they didn't just kill Neri."
A blonde head popped out of the trap door. "Sir..." called Rico, "...this level clear, one hostile down, wounded...we need your help." Jean snuffed out his cigarette and the two men dropped down into the cellar. Marisa was covered in blood, but it wasn't her own, she was trying to hold direct pressure on a chest wound, while 4 other bullet holes leaked blood. The man also had 2 wounds in his left leg. "Jesus..." growled Croce, "you idiots shot Gianlucca Neri." Elio dropped down on his knees and tried his best to stabilize the wounded man, but he died where he lay. "I told you I wanted Neri alive!"
"I'm sorry, Jean" muttered Rico. Croce turned on her angrily, and lifted his hand to give her a smack. She flinched a little, but did not move an inch. Before the blow could fall, Marisa crossed the room in a blur, and threw herself between cyborg & handler.
"Get out of the way, Marisa!" Jean growled, but the blood covered girl did not yield. Her freckled face wore a look of grim determination which she hoped hid the nauseous feeling that came with disobeying an order from the Field Commander.
"You shouldn't do that Mr. Croce," she said in a slow, measured tone. The girl tried her best to look convincing but remain respectful. It was a delicate balance. "I killed our mark. Rico did as you ordered, she only put two rounds in his leg, but he had a pistol and tried to fire on her so I took my shot."
The tense stand-off lasted only a few moments, but it felt like ages as seconds ticked off the clock. Rico broke the silence by placing a calming hand on Mari's shoulder and saying "You have to move now, Marisa, it's okay." Reluctantly she slid out of position, avoiding eye contact with Mr. Croce. The red-head walked back over to Elio, and wanted nothing more than to lean against him and feel her handler's calming touch. Rico looked up at her own handler and smiled. "If you still wanna sock me you can do it now" she chirped. Jean just grunted and walked away.
_________Teacher & Student___________
It took another hour for the Public Safety team to show up with body-bags and cleaning supplies...by this time the Section 2 agents had Neri's corpse out of the cellar and the rest of the bodies arranged neatly in the hallway. All brass cartridges here collected and accounted for. Jean was annoyed by the 4-person cleaning crew, who seemed more concerned with helping Marisa & Elio get Neri's blood off their hands & clothes than with securing the scene. Tired and ready to return home, Croce declared that they were leaving, and in a few minutes they were back on the Autostrada, heading toward Rome.
Rico was asleep before they even left Pescara but Marisa stayed awake for the whole drive, silently alternating between watching her handler and staring out the window. Elio could tell she had something on her mind...she hadn't inquired about food once.
The Mercedes pulled up in front of the cyborg dormitory just as the sky began to turn from pitch black to a brightening blue. "Everybody up..." summoned Alboreto, "...last stop for this bus." It took a shake to rouse Rico, but aside from her comically disheveled hair she looked very refreshed by her nap. She wiped a few sleepy tears from her eyes (smiling to discover she still had hands) and suggested, "Let's get the guns out of the trunk, Mari. I'll clean your G3 for you too, Mr. Alboreto."
"That's not necessary" he replied.
"I'd like to do it" she told him cheerfully, "I really enjoyed using it, and I'd like to show Henrietta & the others what I got to fire."
"Just let her have the rifle so we can go home" groaned Jean, trying to catch a short cat-nap while the girls unloaded.
Elio conceded; "Well, it's okay with me then, there's no hurry either." He'd already cleared the weapon, so there were no rounds left in it.
"You two are excused from morning class today, get some rest" added Croce, never opening his eyes. He whispered to Elio "I'm the teacher, and I'm sure as hell skipping it."
After having been silent for the whole drive home, Marisa finally spoke up. "Elio, can I talk to you?"
"We've had a really long night, Mari, can it wait?" he asked, but she looked unsatisfied with that, so Elio told Jean "Go ahead without me...I'll get the rebreathers out of your trunk tomorrow...um, later today I mean." He got no objection from Croce, who slipped the Benz into gear and drove away as soon as Alboreto stepped out. Rico had already gone inside, so the two sat down on the dormitory steps, Marisa holding her Kel-Tech across her lap. "What did you want to talk about, kiddo?"
Marisa took a deep breath, as if she was uncomfortable about bringing it up. "About tonight...what happened when we killed Gianlucca Neri."
"You did just fine," he assured her, "it would have been nice to take him alive for questioning, but you had no choice. I'm pleased that you took the shot when you did...you probably saved Rico from being hurt."
"Thanks" she replied, her voice flat, "but that's not it. What happened afterwards. Mr. Croce was going to hit Rico for something that wasn't her fault...and you just stood there and did nothing."
"I see..." he sighed. His trainee had really thrown him a curve here.
She continued; "Way back when you were explaining our job to me...back when it was just us at the Dive Training Center...you said we can't always do the right thing in our profession, but we should always aspire to do the right thing, and do it when we can."
Elio stalled for time, "Well, it's complicated."
"I know it's complicated!" his student replied, "I thought about it for the whole ride back and I don't understand. That's why I'm asking you to explain!"
Alboreto felt trapped, and realized it was because he did not have a good explanation to give her. There were a thousand lies he could have told her...lies he was sure she would accept, but that wasn't good enough. The old spy took a blind leap and told the truth. "I always demand the best from you, and you have every right to expect the same from me, but I didn't deliver tonight. The fact is, you are right and I was wrong" he admitted, "Inaction is a kind of cowardice that's just as destructive as any, and I was certainly guilty of it tonight. Luckily someone braver stepped in and did the right thing." Marisa blushed when he said that, brightly enough that he could see it even in the advancing morning light. "I'm going to have to learn from that. Tonight, you were the teacher and I am the student...what do you think of that?"
Marisa smiled, but squirmed uncomfortably at the suggestion. "Okay...but maybe now we could just go back to the way things are normally."
"Alright," chuckled Alboreto, "but from now on if there's something you think I'm doing wrong know that you have every right to call me on it. You know...give me a kick in the pants."
"You never hesitate to give me one" she joked.
"So what do you want to do Miss Teacher?" he asked "The chow-hall opens for breakfast in about an hour."
"For the first time in my life I think I'd rather sleep than eat" she admitted, "but maybe we could visit Mama Galati for dinner today?"
"Good idea. She always likes you to bring a friend...who's the lucky one this time? Rico maybe?"
"She went last time" Marisa reminded him, "I had someone else it mind...someone I kind of owe a favor to."
That afternoon, Mr. Ramsey joined Marisa & Elio for dinner with Mrs. Galati.
THE END