CHAPTER ONE
As he watched the tiny old woman struggle up the steps carrying her heavy shopping bags Nicco felt a pang of chivalrous duty that he knew had come courtesy of the Cervantes he had spent his morning studying. The thin young man in round glasses stood up from his seat on the crowded bus, with the noble intent of offering it to the elderly lady, who needed it far more than he.
The very instant he got up though, the seat was taken by another. Another man; as young as he if not younger, but built like a bull and presenting a menacing countenance to match sat with his arms crossed. Nicco's sense of indignation was palpable. "Now see here, signor!" he protested. The human bull just glared at him.
"You got up" replied the man in guttural tones that Nicco knew were meant to intimidate. It worked.
He gave a glance to the elderly lady, who looked on him with questioning, but not entirely hopeless eyes. Many years had passed since the last time a gentleman had taken up for her in public. Inspired by her eyes, those of the other passengers and the tragic courage of Don Quixote Nicco pressed his objection. "I rose to offer my seat to this lady!"
Leaning forward, but not moving his ass an inch, the human bull growled "You don't say, eh? Maybe you should wait for another seat to open and offer her that one." The color drained from Nicco as fast as his courage. The inspiring eyes of the other passengers abandoned him one by one, and even the old lady turned to look away with a snort once she realized how pathetic he was. The only one that still stared at Nicco was the bully, who gave him a smirk and crossed his bulging arms before leaning back in triumph and stretching his legs into the standing space of others.
Nicco could not stand being on that bus another minute...he hopped off at the very next stop, still blocks away from his destination. As the door closed he imagined he could hear laughter mocking his cowardice.
He hated himself.
_Milton_
As aconsequence of his humiliating episode on the city bus Nicolo Corelli was 7 minutes late for work. He tried to slip in unnoticed, but he was caught by a sharp glance from his weasel of a supervisor. Federuccio had gone to university with him, they had served an internship together, they had been assigned adjacent cubicles as lower level intelligence analysts, but 2 years into their tenure it was Fedo who got the promotion and not Nicco. During those two years spent suffering under the obstinate & demanding Office Supervisor, Lona Marchelli, they planned and dreamed together of how they would make their little corner of Public Safety a more efficient and better place to work. While it was a great disappointment to be passed over (Nicco quietly considered his work to be of higher quality than Fedo's) he was happy for his friend, knowing that with at least one of them beginning the march to the top things must get better.
A year later, Ms. Marchelli was Station Chief and Fedo had gone from being one of her long-suffering lackeys to her personal ass kissing toady. As a supervisor he was worse than she had ever been. While Lona had been a hard edged, procedural, unfeeling, bitch as Office Supervisor, Giani Federuccio was a manipulative backstabber who would do anything to make subordinates look bad and himself look good in front of the bosses. Already he had ducked into Lona's office to make his tattle-tale report that Mr. Corelli had arrived late for work again (it didn't matter that this was the first time in over a year...Fedo always slipped in an again to make the matter seem more important). To hell with them both, anyway. Nicco only needed his crappy job until his book on Dante Alighieri was finished...that would get his foot in the door for a research appointment at the Sapienza Università di Roma. That was his brass ring...his light at the end of this dreary tunnel of paperwork, bullshit and office treachery. Nicco turned on his hopelessly out of date Pentium 3 generation desktop and got to work.
A few hours later & just before lunch Nicolo's work was interrupted. "Hey Nicco, amico" said Fedo, popping his head into the bleak cubicle like he was telling some kind of secret. Fedo still called his former friend and current subordinate buddy in spite of all his behavior to the contrary. "Listen, boss Lona wasn't too happy when she saw you sneak in late this morning, but don't worry, I smoothed it all over for you."
"Grazie" muttered Corelli, sickened by the churlishness. In rebellion he never looked up from his paperwork. You were the one who told her I was late, without ever asking me if there was a good reason. Nicolo wasn't sure if his reason was good or not so he just kept his mouth shut.
"So since I pulled your fat out the fire maybe you could do me a little favor" suggested Fedo.
"Jeeze, here it comes..." thought Nicco.
"We've got some big shots coming by this afternoon...some heavy hitter from Special Operations, we don't know who yet" the slimy supervisor told him, "They're gonna want to see all we have on the Assassino D'Essai, which isn't much, so maybe you could gather it all up and organize it for us? And spruce it up a bit too, you know all that fancy art gallery stuff better than anyone in the office...when the team looks good we all look good."
"...and there goes my lunch hour ." Even though it was chilly outside Corelli had been looking forward to an hour in the Piazza di Spagna with his sandwich and his copy of Paradise Lost. It didn't seem to matter if it was a 130 kilo bully of the public bus or his own weasely ex-friend...Nicco was everyone's doormat.
"Oh, and, Nicco..." called out Federuccio as he left for his own lunch "...could you run the vacuum cleaner through this place and wipe down the coffee counter while you're at it? Thanks a bunch."
He hated his life.
The arrival of the Agency bigwig took Station Chief Marchelli & Office Supervisor Federuccio by surprise. From his cubicle Nicco saw a tall man in an impeccable suit enter. He had an angular face and dark hair, longer than most Agency men wore it. The guy also seemed kind of young to be a VIP...maybe mid to late 30's...Nicco guessed he was some kind of agent for Special Ops. There was someone behind him, someone short...over his wall Nicco could only see the top of a blonde head, capped off by two very strange...pigtails?
Corelli could have picked up his phone and warned either of the two supervisors that the guests had arrived but, "screw them" he decided. The dark haired man reached the door of Lona Marchelli's office and knocked before anyone knew he was there. From his prison-cell cubicle Nicco smiled as he watched his bitch of a chief bow and scrape before the mysterious VIP, snapping angrily at Fedo for not alerting her to their honored guest's arrival. When they all retired to Lona's office and the door closed behind them he returned to his work, sure that the single bright spot in his day had already passed.
About 10 minutes went by. "Milton, eh?" inquired an unexpected voice that made Nicco jump. "Sorry if I startled you...I hate it when people do that to me." It was the short woman with the blonde pigtails, except that she wasn't a woman, she was just a kid, no more than 14 if she was a day. She ran a leather gloved finger across the cover of his paperback volume. "My supervisor has me reading Milton lately. Not Paradise Lost yet...that's a little heavy for me, but I've been studying his poetry. L' Allegro...Il Penseroso...you know the stuff."
Nicco wasn't sure what to say to this kid. "I do know the stuff, and that's very impressive for a girl your age" he complimented her, hoping he wouldn't sound like a boring, patronizing grown-up and put her off John Milton for life. "Are you reading him in Italian or the original English?"
"Italian" she confessed with a little blush, "I speak a little English but I'm not very proficient yet. I speak French & German fluently though."
She was a really surprising kid...educated, poised, outgoing, and very pretty. Exactly the type of girl who had never given Nicolo a second glance back when he was her age. Her clothes were nice but a little odd for a kid so young, it seemed like she picked them out to match the dark haired man she traveled with (was this the "supervisor" who directed her reading choices?) "So how do you like it? The Milton I mean."
"It's okay I guess...it makes my supervisor happy" she answered with a far off look in her blue eyes. The girl pivoted a little on her heel and leaned back, half sitting on Nicco's desk. She'd already been smiling in a pleasant way that one might expect during friendly conversation with a stranger, but when she mentioned her supervisor being pleased with her it changed to one of wistful happiness. As she talked, Nicco wondered what she meant by supervisor. This girl was barely a teenager and a young one at that; surely she did not have a role at the Agency. All those questions would have to remain mysteries though, because Marchelli's office door swung open and the dark haired man strode out holding the folder Nicco had put together over his lost lunch hour. Lona & Fedo followed as close as they could without literally kissing his ass.
"Triela, we're going..." announced the man, but then he noticed her leaning on Corelli's desk "...I hope she wasn't bothering you."
"We had a very nice conversation about John Milton" Nicco replied.
"Good" the man said, which made the girlsmile, "I hope you taught her something." The smile was replaced by an annoyed snort and she walked out first, blocking the doorway until she had consciously checked in both directions, and finally allowing her grown companion to exit. Nicolo thought that was odd...in fact he thought the whole visit was odd, but in this type of work you saw a lot of odd things and not asking questions was how you ensured a continuing paycheck.
Fedo leaned over the cubicle wall and said "Thanks for babysitting while the grown-ups talked. Listen, Lona & I are gonna cut out early and inspect some of those galleries the guy was asking about so could you lock up when you leave?" Nicco growled under his breath...that meant he had to stay late until all the other analysts had finished their work.
He hated his job.
_The Report_
"To be honest I'm impressed" muttered Chief Lorenzo, as he thumbed through the file that Hillshire had brought back from the Public Safety branch office in downtown Rome. "You told me not to expect much from this report, but it's insightful, well footnoted, has some creative interpretations of the evidence." He handed it to Jean and added "It's possibly the best information we've got on the Assassino D'Essai so far. I think you may have underestimated this Lona Marchelli of yours."
"I doubt it" muttered Reschiglian, "believe me when I tell you Ms. Marchelli is a bigger robot than those cyborgs you use. The woman does not have a shred of insight that doesn't come directly from the handbook. Her second in command I've never met, but by all accounts he's a talentless boot-lick."
Lorenzo tried to find a weak spot in the Public Safety Director's opinion, "You didn't like Rissi here, and he's worked out splendidly for us..."
"I never said I didn't like Alessandro" corrected Reschiglian, "he's an excellent agent. What I didn't like was getting punched in the face by him. I'd say that's more personal distaste than professional."
Alessandro was obnoxiously looking over Jean's shoulder, reading the report while it still lay in his hands. Croce gritted his teeth but said nothing. "You know, I gotta agree with dickless this one time" Sandro contributed, "Lona could not have written this report."
"Is that true?" mused Lorenzo.
"The part about Reschiglian having no dick?" Sandro replied, "Yes, that's true."
Jean finally growled "Rissi, if you don't have anything productive to say shut the fuck up."
Alessandro was cocky and uncowed by the cranky Field Commander, but he did finally get serious. "What I mean is...this document is filled with deep insight about art & literature, to be honest most of it's way above my head. Lona doesn't know a damn thing about that stuff. Her apartment is filled with pictures of cats and those horrid little Hummel figurines."
Reschigilan was puzzled. "How do you know what her apartment...oh, Jesus, Rissi, did you sleep with her too?"
"It was for the job...I needed information!"
"Like what? The color of her underwear?"
"Gentlemen!" snapped Lorenzo, before a fist-fight broke out between the Director of Public Safety and one of his own handlers. "This is not a productive area of discussion, so I'm going to ask you to cut the crap, both of you!" Pieri Lorenzo held no official rank over Reschiglian, but age gave him a natural air of authority. Jean had said nothing during the outburst between the 2 men, but he had quietly moved into the perfect position to separate them if the blows started flying.
Hillshire was sitting in a chair across the room, and had been so silent thus far that the others had almost forgotten he was there. "Now that I think about it" he recalled, "Triela spoke to some analyst about John Milton, the English poet from the 17th century."
"Did you happen to catch his name, Victor?" asked Jean, showing civility to Hillshire as a snide way of snubbing Alessandro, who was annoying him more than usual today. He passed the report to him in the hopes that the well educated German could make better sense of it than a bunch of spies and ex-military police.
"No," sighed Hillshire, "maybe Triela did. He was a pretty plain looking young man...thin, round glasses...looked like the kind of fellow you'd cast in a movie to be the librarian."
"Do you think you could recognize him?" Reschiglian suggested. He hopped up from his seat and motioned toward Lorenzo's laptop computer. The Section Two Chief rotated it toward him to imply his consent, "This thing is on our secure network, right?" he asked, but assumed the answer and began calling up Public Safety personnel records. "Here's the whole staff at that branch office..."
Victor got up and scanned through dossiers of all the Public Safety analysts. It took a few minutes, none of the portraits (scanned from their identification cards) were very good, and blown up on Lorenzo's screen they looked blocky & pixilated. "This could be him" Hillshire finally decided, reading the name aloud "Nicolo Corelli...pretty basic education at a public university, majored in data management but he did have a minor in classical literature."
Lorenzo reclaimed his computer by sliding it back in front of himself. "I'll e-mail this dossier to our intel guru and have her dig up all she can on your librarian. Jean, once Priscilla finishes her report, and if it still seems like a good idea, send your brother to bring him in, this guy might respond better to a soft touch. Victor, I'd like you to stay out of sight until we know if we want to use Corelli...he's already seen you and Triela after all."
"We have a plan...good," agreed Reschiglian with a nod, "please keep me informed of any progress you make."
As the informal meeting adjourned Rissi could not resist one last opportunity to shake the cage of his former boss. "So, been a long time since we've been on a case together," he said facetiously, "you...wanna grab a beer after work?"
Reschiglian gave him a scowl that would melt glass and walked out.
__Into the Rabbit Hole_
After another miserable morning in the office Nicco actually got to take his lunch hour today. Together with John Milton and his paper sack lunch he found an empty bench in the Piazza and looked forward to 45 minutes of blissful escape. Unfortunately he only got to read in peace for 10 minutes though before vexing annoyance crept into his bubble of solitude.
A man in a short jacket sat right down on the bench with him. "What the fuck?" Nicolo thought "There are plenty of empty benches." An instant later a little girl with short brown hair & wearing an expensive looking red coat sat down on the other side of him. "I'm sorry" said Corelli, hiding his annoyance, "I can move so you can sit together..."
"Oh no, don't let us disturb you." replied the stranger, with a friendly smile, but then he continued to disturb. "Milton, eh? Very high-brow stuff for a lunch break."
"Only if you're a fucking idiot" Nicco thought, but then he felt ashamed of his anti-social attitude. "I should feel happy when people show an interest in good literature." Corelli carefully placed his bookmark and replied "Yes, I guess it might be considered so, but if you had a job like mine you'd look forward to a little escape every noon-time."
"A job like yours..." muttered the black-haired man with a little chuckle. Nicco did not know what was funny about the comment, but the little girl giggled a bit too. He turned to look at her; perhaps 10 years old, smiling and looking at him with big brown eyes that reminded him of...that other kid who had visited the office & spoken to him about John Milton yesterday. What is it about little girls this week?
"I try to read books without pictures, but sometimes they're really hard!" chirped the girl, in a voice that Nicco thought had a little too much artificial sweetness forced into it.
He motioned to the violin case across her lap. "Well, it looks to me as if you like to take on difficult challenges." The girl shot her adult companion a glance of alarm when he said that...as if Nicco had discovered a secret she was keeping. "I mean, the violin is a difficult instrument to learn at any age. An Amati eh? May I see it?"
She squirmed uncomfortably on the bench and clutched her case tightly. "I'm sorry," she replied, "my brother says opening the case outside on such a damp day could warp the wood."
"I see, very smart" Nicolo directed his comment at big-brother.
The dark haired man replied "She's rather good; maybe you'll get to hear her play sometime...soon." Nicolo was instantly on alert. At that second he realized this was no chance meeting. Every instinct told him it had to do with the VIP who had visited his office yesterday, and the mysterious girl he had in tow. It all fit together...none of these things could be mere coincidence.
The girl still seemed nervous and distracted, so her older brother pulled out his wallet and handed her a 20 euro bill. "Why don't you go get us some gelato, Henrietta?"
That perked her right up. "Really, Giuse?" she asked excitedly. In the Piazza di Spagna no less! This wasn't even what she would consider a "real mission" but he was already giving her a reward...ice cream beforelunch, Giuse is being really nice today! "What flavor do you like, Sir?" she asked, eager to see her good fortune spill over to their new friend.
"Oh, don't worry about me!" Corelli answered, lifting his sandwich. He felt embarrassed to tell them he was lactose intolerant. Henrietta apparently knew what her brother liked already so she dashed off, dutifully carrying her violin case with her.
Now that Nicco was alone with the man a creeping fear set in. As long as the little sister had been with them he was reasonably confident that this guy wasn't going to put a bullet in him. Isolated now, he was not so sure. "I thought she'd leave the violin behind when you suggested ice cream...she's very responsible" he tried to make small talk.
"Fast too" replied the man named Giuse, "and that line isn't very long in this cold. We don't have much time before she gets back." He shifted on the bench, leaning closer to Nicco. "Lona Marchelli did not produce that write-up on the Assassino D'Essai did she?"
"Ummm, all reports are a collaborative effort, Ms. Marchelli is the Station Chief..." he didn't know how to answer.
"I'm not interested in how humble you can act" growled Giuse, "I told you we don't have much time. You're the only one in that office that has studied classical literature as well as that of the renaissance. Your articles have been published in the academic journals...it's clear to us that you have the background to draw the conclusions generated in that report. I have to know...are you the real author?"
"Yes" answered Nicolo quickly, wondering if the truth would earn him a bullet in the skull. Was this guy the killer? Despite the damp cold he began to feel very hot, and had to unbutton his wool coat. There are certainly worse places to die than the Piazza.
Noting his discomfiture the intimidating man backed off a bit. "Relax Mr. Corelli. I'm with the Agency of course, Special Operations Section 2. We've just become involved in the investigation and your report is the most informative thing we have read so far."
"Really?" Nicco's eyebrows raised, and he seemed to forget that only seconds ago he had been facing his last day on earth. Praise was such a rare thing to him that he didn't know how to accept it. "I didn't even have access to the real evidence...crime scene photos...forensics."
Giuseppe waved his hand dismissively "We've got the best men in Italy looking at that stuff and they're stuck without a clue. Our target has killed 4 members of SISDE so far, 3 from Public Safety plus an agent from SpecOps Section One...all inside museums and art galleries. You, Mr. Corelli, are the only person who has identified a pattern in the nature of the art in those galleries. We'd really love to make you a member of our task force...Agent Corelli." Giuse tried to appeal to Nicco's sense of grandeur, but the title actually terrified him. Agents got shot at in modern Italy.
"Is this the kind of thing I actually have a choice about?" he replied.
Giuse shrugged his shoulders. "I don't exactly know, but I'm guessing you don't. Personally, I won't do a thing if you refuse, but I can't promise that you won't get a second visit from Section 2. Some of my colleagues are less...well, let's just say they don't stop for ice cream while on a mission." His analogy was well timed, as Henrietta scampered up and handed him a cone with a double scoop of vanilla & chocolate. Her own consisted of spumoni on top of strawberry. Giuse wrinkled his brow a little and gave a disapproving smirk as he regarded the double scoop, but his little sister just giggled & gave a sneaky smile as if she had gotten away with something bad. "Before lunch?" he grumbled unconvincingly "You'd better finish your vegetables today."
Henrietta licked her cone (The first lick was an important gesture in her mind, now it was incontestably hers) and asked "So Mr. Corelli, are you coming with us?"
"Even she knows my name?" Nicco muttered. Curiouser & curiouser. Giuse did not answer his question, he was more interested in Henrietta's. "I guess I am, miss. I'll have to notify my office that I'll be late getting back from lunch."
"Why?" scoffed Giuse, "Lona Marchelli stole your report and put her name on it. My colleague who visited your office yesterday says she took full credit...no mention of any collaborative effort. Forget her." He quickly tapped out a text message on his mobile phone. "In fact..." he chuckled "...in a few minutes Director Reschiglian will telephone Ms. Marchelli to tell her that you've been transferred from her office in order that high command may make better use of your extraordinary talents."
"Oh man!" laughed Nicolo, beginning to like this agent stuff, "That'll scare the pants off her!"
Henrietta gave her ice cream cone a big lick and chirped "Welcome to Special Operations, Mister Corelli!"
After that the trio spoke little about the case. The fratello finished their gelato while Nicco ate his lunch and spoke expertly about the sculptures & fresco's around the Piazza. Henrietta was surprised & a little bit uncomfortable that he seemed to know more than Giuseppe. But Giuse knows everything...
They walked a few blocks to where Giuse had parked the car. "Nice!" exclaimed Corelli as he admired the brilliant silver Mercedes CL.
"Borrowed it from my older brother" admitted Giuseppe. Nicco thought it was odd that he did not say our brother in front of his sister. Wasn't he her brother too? Maybe they had different fathers. "I own a little 2 seater, so we swapped cars for the day."
"Giuseppe drives a Porsche" boasted a blushing Henrietta.
"I ride the bus" muttered Nicco. Porsche, Mercedes-Benz, Amati violins & tailored suits...no wonder my office can't get toner cartridges for the photocopier. He got into the front passenger seat.
Outside the car Giuse walked around to flip the drivers' side seat forward for his little sister. "What do you think of him?" he asked.
"I got kinda scared when he asked about my weapons case" she whispered, "like he knew it wasn't a violin inside."
"Nothing to worry about, he'll know everything soon." Giuse assured her.
She seemed relieved that he didn't consider it important, and continued "I like him...he's really nice and smart about things like the statues around the piazza...and he didn't mess up my hair like other people we work with!"
"You mean like this?" he joked, reaching down and playfully mussing her hair as 'Etta gave a startled yelp of protest.
_Special Operations_
Giuse pulled his brother's Mercedes up to the gate of the SWA compound, and flashed his identification. Henrietta did not bother to produce hers, she just waved and smiled...the guard knew her well. "What about him?" growled the man as he looked at Nicco sitting in the passenger seat. Corelli pulled out his Public Safety analyst ID and handed it across to the guard, who didn't even bother taking it. Nicco had thought his government credentials would be enough to at least get through the gate. "Are you kidding me?" the guard scoffed.
"He's with me" said Croce, "check the visitor's list. It's authorized by Section 2 Director Lorenzo." The guard complied, but it still took all of five minutes and a thumb print scan of Nicolo before he waved the silver Benz through.
To Nicco's eyes the Special Operations compound was a world away from his stuffy cubicle. It had vast manicured lawns, landscaped foot-paths through wooded groves, and a long row of expertly pruned trees lining the road on either side. By contrast, the office complex where they eventually parked was more familiar...more of an austere governmental block than something one would expect in this garden setting. By the time the 3 got out of the car Corelli was not sure what to expect.
"You can go back to the dorm now Henrietta" instructed Croce. He looked at his watch and added "You still have time to catch lunch at the dining hall before afternoon training."
Nicco observed a look of genuine dismay and concern on the young girl's face "But what about you Giuse?" she asked.
"I have to present Mr. Corelli to Chief Lorenzo" he replied, "Don't worry about me...I'll grab something at the canteen later. After lunch you've got rifle practice at the outdoor range. Maggiore Mancini is the range officer today, give him my note and he'll get you set up." With an obedient nod, Henrietta scurried off, still carrying her violin case.
"That kid does rifle practice?" asked Nicco, unable to contain his surprise.
Giuseppe nodded, and replied "I understand this is all confusing, but it will make more sense in just a little while. Come this way and I'll show you to the Section Chief."
Niccolo Corelli tried to take in as much information as he could as he walked 1 step behind his guide. They made their way up one set of stairs, and down a carpeted hallway. Each of the doors, some open, some closed, had a single name placard on them. Peeking inside one Nicco saw a man about his age, but blonde & much more heavily built, looking at a computer screen with a red-headed girl of about 16. In another room, a single dark haired girl, about 13 years of age in Nicco's estimation (he only saw her from behind), lay on her stomach reading a book...her shoeless feet idly knocking together as she read.
Giuse noticed his puzzled look. "This is the handler's floor. Common work areas, the mission planning room, and a canteen are downstairs. All of us have beds in our offices...or an office in our room as some prefer to look at it. They come in handy when you're the alert team, or when you just have to stay late. Here's mine...feel free to look around." He opened his own door and dropped off the briefcase he carried. Next he pulled a Sig-Sauer pistol from under his jacket and locked it away in a desk drawer.
Croce's room was dark, with a flat-screen television at the foot of the bed. There were shelves of books & a fish-tank next to a ship in a bottle, which sat on his L-shaped desk. A far cry from the cubicle Nicolo worked in. After Giuse dropped a few flakes into the aquarium he turned to Nicco and said "All done, let's go see the Chief."
They had to go up one more flight of stairs, to another hallway full of offices. A short haired woman in a sharply cut business suit nodded courteously at Giuse & his guest, but said nothing. On this floor Nicco only saw one name on a closed door; "Jean Croce." He wondered if Giuseppe's father or uncle worked here as well.
Finally, they reached the office of the boss, at the end of the hall. There was no name on this door. Giuseppe paused, and knocked before entering. The door was opened by a silent blonde girl in a maid's outfit who bowed and left immediately. "Signor Corelli..." greeted a grey haired man, perhaps in his late 50's. He wore a tweed sport-coat over a turtleneck shirt, and rose to shake the new arrival's hand. Standing behind him was a grim looking blonde man, who did not shake hands. "...welcome to Section 2, we've been reading your report on the art-house killer with great interest. Please have a seat, we don't have much time I'm afraid."
Nicco & Giuse both sat down in very expensive looking chairs, but the blonde man never moved. Chief Lorenzo spoke first; "We have a lot of questions for you, but in fairness, you probably have even more for us. First let me introduce our Field Commander, Jean Croce...and you're already acquainted with his brother Giuseppe." That answered one of Nicco's questions. The blonde man finally leaned forward to shake hands with a powerful grip. The Chief continued, "Jean will be your direct supervisor when you start working for us, but for now, I promised to answer your questions."
Corelli wanted desperately to make a good first impression, but he fumbled his opportunity badly, "Eh...well...ummm...Sir...I'm not sure exactly where to start."
"How about with the most obvious question:" replied the Section Chief, a touch of amusement showing in his voice, "What's with all the little girls...and why are they carrying guns?"
"Yes Sir...that would be a good place to start" muttered Nicco, blushing at his own awkwardness.
Lorenzo lit his pipe and began to explain; "Over the last few years, our nation has been catapulted to the fore-front of medical technology. This is due in large part to the public work of the Social Welfare Agency. As an employee of Public Safety you already know the SWA is not all it seems. Here is the truth Mr. Corelli; Special Operations utilizes the children you have seen for counter-terrorism operations. They are a combination of human and machine, cybernetically enhanced to meet our needs. These girls are stronger, faster, and have greater endurance than even Olympic level athletes. In addition they can suffer multiple injuries, even gunshot wounds, without losing effectiveness. They are a secret, but very valuable tool for the security of Italia."
"I see" replied Corelli. All 3 men were shocked at his relaxed reaction.
Puzzled, Jean finally spoke up; "You don't seem at all surprised by this?"
"It's shocking, of course" Nicolo explained, "but I knew it had to be something like that. The way that blonde girl checked the door before allowing her supervisor to exit my office...Henrietta's protectiveness about her violin case, it has a gun inside, right?"
"Eh...yes" admitted Giuseppe.
Feeling a bit more confident, Nicco continued; "I had no idea the girls were artificial, but I'd gathered they were not normal."
"I see" muttered the Chief, impressed by Nicolo's observational skill, "Artificial may not be the right word to describe them. With Henrietta & indeed all the cyborgs it's important to remember that while the girl has a mechanical body, she is still an adolescent child."
Corelli nodded, remembering how enthusiastic Henrietta had been about her gelato. "I'm still not sure how this effects me though. What help can a simple analyst from Public Safety provide a Special Ops unit like yours?"
"It was the report that you made up for our man Hillshire" answered Lorenzo, "all of SISDE is on high alert because 4 of our agents have been murdered by the same assassin in only 2 months. Italy's best detectives are on his trail, but you managed to come up with a new outlook on the case. We'd like your help, Mr. Corelli. The reason you are here is that Special Ops offers the best chance of protecting you if you become the killer's next target. As for our friends at Section One...well, we just found you first, so we get first dibs on having you on the team." Corelli let that sink in for a few seconds. He had never been chosen first for any team in his whole life, but there was little time for pride now. The other part of Chief Lorenzo's speech grabbed his attention more.
The thought of becoming the next target of the Assassino D'Essai made Nicco nauseous with fear, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you really think...?"
"Mr. Corelli...Nicolo if I may call you that...the moment you produced that report you placed yourself on the list of possible targets," explained Jean "There are several copies floating around Public Safety right now, and since all 4 of our victims were SISDE members we can not ignore the possibility that the killer is already aware of your work. The safest thing for you is to accept our protection and work with us to bring this matter to an end in an expeditious manner, do you agree?" Put on the spot, Nicco could only nod his head. "Good" concluded Jean.
There was a knock at the door. The Chief called that it was okay to come in, and a perky woman wearing casual clothes and a dangling necklace poked her head in. "Chief Lorenzo, Sir, your conference call with the Senatore a Vita begins in 5 minutes."
"I apologize for the interruption Nicolo" said Lorenzo, "but the issue of the murderer is not our only business. We will discuss this matter later today, but in the mean time I have arranged for Priscilla here to show you around the compound. She will answer any further questions you may have about Section 2."
The woman, who was only a few years older than Nicco grabbed him by the arm informally and chirped "Come on...I'll give you the grand tour." Corelli was pulled along by the friendly, and quite attractive woman.
Outside waited a Kawasaki Mule utility vehicle. Priscilla hopped up into the driver's seat and motioned for Nicco to take the position next to her. She did not fasten her seat-belt, but Nicco did, and was happy he had once she began driving down the pathways at what seemed like a ludicrous pace. The woman spent only about 10% of her time with both hands on the wheel. The rest of the time she was waving at the various persons they passed, pointing them out to Nicco and attaching names he was sure he'd never remember. They passed a man in his early 40's, waxing a Ferrari with a girl who looked oriental. Driving in the opposite direction was another Kawasaki utility vehicle, this one bright blue and adorned with a wild array of religious tokens. From the driver's seat a smiling middle-eastern man waved back. Riding in the trailer amongst gardening tools was the dark haired girl Nicco had seen reading earlier. It seemed odd to him that a mechanical girl would need glasses, but she wore them.
They went out to the shooting range, where Corelli saw the odd sight of several young girls firing rounds into cardboard targets down-range. He recognized one as Henrietta, the girl he'd met earlier. She turned and waved, earning herself a sharp rebuke from the officer supervising the range, a well groomed man who moved with a great deal of military bearing; he admonished the girl to keep her rifle pointed down-range at all times. Next was the obstacle course, the hospital, and the monastery. "And this is the cyborg dorm..." pointed out Priscilla, slowing down some. An impromptu football game was going on, with an uneven number of players on the sides. At the base of the 3 story building was gathered a small crowd of girls, staring up at the sky. Curiously, Nicco bent his neck to see what they were looking at, just in time to witness a young girl with red pigtails leap off the roof, holding a bed sheet as a parachute. It did not slow her down one bit, and to Corelli's dismay she crashed hard into the hedges below. Nobody else seemed concerned, in fact the other girls were applauding. When the same sharply dressed woman Nicco had seen earlier came stomping over the audience scattered, leaving the red-headed girl to suffer the full brunt of her vituperative scolding. "That's just Ferro...you'll get used to her" laughed Priscilla, stopping the Mule.
"The woman or the kid who just jumped off the roof?" Nicco muttered, astonished that the girl showed no ill effects from her 3 story fall.
"Oh, the woman" Priscilla clarified, and added awkwardly "The cyborg is Marisa...you'll probably never get used to her."
They both hopped out of the vehicle and Priscilla continued to attach names to persons, both human & cyborg. McDonnell...Ilaria...Allison...Chiara...Nihad...Rico...Giada...Alphonso...Melanie, I'll never remember half these names. Corelli's attention was drawn by a frantic warning to look out! From the corner of his eye he saw a short blonde girl deliver a wild kick to the soccer ball, sending it on a high, slow arc, well out of bounds.
"Careful Nicco!" warned Priscilla.
Seeing an opportunity to prove he was not a complete sissy, Nicolo lined up under the ball. "I've got this...I used to play mid-field back on my school team." He braced to send the ball pack into play with the perfect header.
"NO! Mr. Corelli!" shouted his escort, accompanied by a few screams from the nearby girls, but Nicco leapt up to meet the football with his forehead.
And then the world went black.
END OF FIRST CHAPTER