Hey ya'll! It's Heir of Zammitelu here, but just call me Heir!

(Data's note - the artist formerly known as 'The Maltese Knight' :) )

OK, me and DataAndrd have decided to co-write a story together. It's based in my country, so I'm going to be writing the first chapter. Then we'll be taking turns!

Sorry if it's short…but I guess it's just an introduction…Hehe…Hope you like anyways!

I own no rights to Robert and Tiziana. They are my brother and sister-in-law.

So, to those who have never been to my country…

Welcome to Malta.

CHAPTER ONE

Miley looked out at the parking lot of the airport they had landed in. They had flown in from Italy, taking them two hours from Trieste, up near Venice. They were now in Malta as part of the Hannah European tour, the second so far that treated most of the Mediterranean regions. "Daddy, where's the limo?!" she asked, seeing no long vehicles except a few trucks.

"Well, honey, to avoid attention we rented a taxi." Robbie Ray pointed down the road where she was. "It's that black one over there." Miley grabbed her luggage and pulled it towards the black car. Lilly and Oliver caught up to her quickly, jumping up and down and singing some Hannah song goofily. Miley could make out the lyrics to Nobody's Perfect, but they had somehow arranged it their own way, singing about their trip to Europe.

Loading their bags into the trunk, the man pulled up another seat up front for Jackson and opened the doors for them. "I'm Charlie, your driver for the two weeks. Merhba."

"What he say?" Lilly asked, a little too loudly.

"It means 'welcome'." Jackson had taken the liberty of learning some phrases for every country they went to so he could translate for the others.

Miley hoped into the sleek black car and they silently drove off. "The place you're in right now is St. Luke. It's one of our modern cities." Charlie drove out of the parking lot and into the lanes. Miley stole a glance at the dashboard, were a compass showed them heading due south-east.

After five minutes of driving, they neared an ancient looking city. "This is Valletta, the capital city of Malta. It was named after Jean Parisot de la Vallette, a Grand-Master of the Knights of St. John. He died before the city was built. Its construction was finished in 1656, and it has grown ever since." Miley looked out the window and saw a towering arch, Arc-de-Triumph style, coming towards them. Charlie stopped the car and let them out. "This is the Bus Terminus. You can catch a cabbie from over there. Your hotel's name is the Queen Victoria. Meet me in front of Puturjal tomorrow."

"Huh?!" Oliver and Lilly both asked.

"Port, as in door; Royal, as in royal. I think he means the Arch behind us, right?" Charlie nodded at Jackson, climbing back into his car.

"Have fun! I recommend you see some places around here! I promise you won't be disappointed!" he closed the door and revved up, driving off.

Miley grabbed her luggage and went to the cabbie. The horse was white with brown and black splotches. He whined at her and she smiled. "Aww! He's so cute!"

Robbie Ray turned to the man on the cabbie and held out some Euros. "Here. Take us to Hotel Queen Victoria please." The man nodded, and after packing up their bags on the roof and back, helped them in. A Maltese couple also joined them, sitting in the extra space.

The man looked like he was in his late twenties. He had a growing beard and black curly hair, slicked back. He was wearing a suit and blue tie and carrying a black briefcase. His wife was wearing a nurse's uniform under a jacket and jeans. She smiled at the teens and crossed her legs. "Are you here for the first time?"

"Yeah. Just got here."

"From where?"

"Malibu." Miley looked at the man, who was impatiently checking his watch time and time again. He turned to them and smiled.

"I'm Robert. This is my wife, Tiziana. We're visiting my grandmother. Where are you staying?"

"Queen Victoria," Oliver smiled. "It seems like a fancy hotel from the name."

"One of our best. Had a conference there last month. I'm a lawyer." He put a finger between his collar and his tie and loosened the cravat. "It's really uncomfortable in this weather though. I can't believe it's so hot for spring!"

Tiziana sighed at her husband's chatter and pointed out the window. "Your hotel is down that road. And this is our first stop, Court." The cabbie stopped and Robert hopped out, kissing his wife goodbye. "See you at Nanna's!" he smiled, running into the tall building. Lilly pointed to the museum across the road to it. "What's that?"

"That is the museum of the Co-Cathedral. It's a must see. The statue in the centre of that small square is a symbolism of the Great Siege of 1565."

Lilly mouthed a 'wow' as she looked up at the bronze statue. "Must have taken a lot of work to make."

"Antonio Sciortino, the sculptor, was very talented." After a few more minutes, Tiziana stopped in front of a café. "I'll walk from here. Nice meeting you!" Up the road from the café was a large church. "Miley! Look! Must be the Co-Cathedral! We have to go see it sometime!" Lilly eagerly pointed, giving her friend the puppy-dog-face.

"OK! We will don't worry!" The cabbie started off again, riding through narrow roads, past vendors and clothes shops, monuments and various chapels or churches.

After a few more minutes, they finally arrived at their 'swanky hotel', as Oliver put it.

"So, what are we going to do today?" Oliver asked, after putting his bags in his room.

"Wanna go see this place for ourselves?"

The streets were packed with thousands of people, but one could not help but notice the four rather sinister figures step into the large museum, Casa Rocca Piccola.

"Monsieur, this museum is a house. People still live here. We must be careful," one of the men reminded another in a heavy French accent. The presumed leader walked into the house and looked at a picture of the family who lived there. Quickly, he took that and hid it in his trench-coat. "With thirty thousand people in this city alone, we will never be caught." Turning to the men behind him, the dark haired French man smirked. "We already stole the Sword. The silver earrings and rosary beads in the house will be easier to steal than the Sword of that accursed la Valletta from the Louvre."

He held out the photograph of the de Piro family. "And I've seen one of these people walking into the Queen Victoria." He pointed out one of the blonde grandchildren. "Keep an eye out for her."

"Maximilian!" a voice called. The man turned and embraced his old 'friend', Nicholas de Piro, Marquis and owner of the house.

"Nicholas! I brought my friends. A tour, please?"

"Of course, old friend."

Maximilian smiled as Phase One of his plan commenced.