Still don't own anything you recognize. Also, I've tried to make my locations/geography as accurate as possible, but Google can only go so far, so I apologize if there are any glaring errors. And once again, any Italian is courtesy of Google Translate. If anyone speaks Italian and would like to correct it, please go ahead.
"You're Eva's uncle? I thought she came from some big crime family."
Tommy's voice was filled with skepticism as he regarded the priest.
"Yes, well. Priests and mobsters, every self respecting Italian family has at least one of each."
Tommy crossed his arms over his chest and gave the man a pointed look, urging him to continue.
"My brother and I were always very different people. By the time we were sixteen, I was headed to the seminary and he was serving time in prison. He eventually got married and had a family, even managing to give off an air of respectability, but he never changed. By the time Eva was in primary school he was running his own 'family', if you will. His wife knew of his business, of course, but Eva didn't find out until after he was blown up."
"So what the hell's going on right now? I just came from identifying Eva's body, and then that kid dragged me over here, saying he knew something about her."
Father Vittoria reached over and rested his hand on Tommy's shoulder, trying to calm the increasingly irate Irishman.
"There is much more going on here than you realize, Detective McConnel."
"Well then how about you bloody well let me in on whatever big secret you've got that's brought me to an Italian church at three in the bloody mornin'!"
Standing now, Tommy was about ready to take a swing at the priest out of sheer frustration, but the older man simply stood and gently led him towards the doorway leading to the back hallway of the church.
"I think it would be best if I showed you, Detective."
They reached a wooden door at the far end of the hallway and Father Vittoria knocked lightly. There was rustling on the other side of the door before it opened a crack to reveal a young woman with dark eyes and olive skin.
"Si, Padre?"
"Come sta? Sveglio?"
"Si, Padre. Ma la sua condizione e male, ha bisogno di un ospedale. Non c'è molto altro che posso fare."
The priest nodded, his expression serious, before gesturing to Tommy.
"Questo e il investigatore, Tommy McConnel, dalla corte penale internazionale."
The woman nodded at Tommy, before opening the door further to let them into the room.
The room was small, with only a desk light in the corner illuminating the otherwise dark space. There was a small bed pushed up against the far wall, and in the dark, Tommy could make out a figure lying on top of the sheets. There was a pile of discarded clothing and bloody dressings on the floor at the foot of the bed and a small table with a bowl of water and a first aid kit. The person on the bed was turned away from him, but he could see deep gashes along their back, as if they'd been whipped or beaten with something sharp, and bruises of different colours marred the expanse of their back, all the way from the top of their pants to their hairline.
"Zio, è che voi?"
Tommy felt his heart jump into his throat when the figure spoke. The voice was strained, rough, and clearly in a great deal of pain, but it was a voice he would recognize anywhere.
"Eva?"
He rushed to the bed as the figure turned with a hiss, the movement clearly painful. Sitting gently on the edge of the bed, he reached his hand out to still her, keeping her from rolling onto her back. He could see her face now that he was closer, and even though she was battered, cut, and bruised almost beyond recognition, there was no doubt in his mind that it was Eva. She had turned her head just enough so that she could look up at him, green eyes shining even behind the swelling around her face.
"Tommy," she whispered "what happened to your face?"
He couldn't help but laugh with a sense of overwhelming relief. Of course Eva would notice the cut on his head.
"Jesus, Eva. You've been beaten half to death and you're worried about a little cut on my face? I'm fine. I thought you were dead, though."
Unable to stop himself, he gently brushed a lock of hair out of her face, pausing to run his thumb over an uninjured spot on her cheek. He couldn't help the half smile that took over his face as she leaned into his touch.
"I am fine, Tommy. You do not need to worry about me."
Father Vittoria scoffed behind them, alerting Tommy once again that there were other people in the room.
"You are not fine, Eva. He had you beaten to within an inch of your life. If Luca had not found you, you would be lying in the morgue right now."
Eva just grunted slightly, pulling the sheet beneath her closer to her face.
"Why isn't she in a hospital?"
The Father sighed deeply before responding to Tommy.
"It is not safe here. If they knew she is still alive... Well, she would not be for much longer."
"Who are 'they'?"
"It is hard to know exactly. I know my brother is involved, and the police here are on his payroll."
"Wait," Tommy stood "I thought your brother was dead. Blown up in a car bombing by Nicola Conti."
Father Vittoria nodded.
"Yes, that was the official story. About a year ago, though, I began to hear whispers that Giovanni Vittoria had returned from the dead. Mafia activity increased drastically all over Grosseto, and then last month I received a visit from Sergeant Enzo Bresci, informing me that the tariff system enforced during the height of La Cosa Nostra would be returning, and I was to collect donations from my parish."
"Shit," Tommy breathed out "Bresci's involved in this?"
The Father nodded again.
"Yes, I believe he is fairly high up. Evidently my brother has chosen to buy off the anti-Mafia unit this time around. I thought that with Eva in the Netherlands, she would be safe, but she turned up last week before I could warn her not to."
"So we can't take her to a hospital here."
"No," Giuseppe shook his head "I would even be reluctant to take her to a hospital anywhere in Italy. They think she is dead, so for now she is safe, but when they find out otherwise, all bets are off."
Tommy ran his hand roughly over his face, glancing back at Eva's battered form slumped on the bed, once again being tended to by the young woman.
"Why do they want to take her out so bad anyways? You'd think her own father would be a bit more lenient."
"It is a twisted matter of honor for him. He feels she has betrayed the family. It would be bad enough if she were simply a police officer, but to be a Sergeant in an elite anti-Mafia unit? To him, it is the ultimate betrayal."
Tommy let out a harsh breath and shook his head.
"What do we do, then? She obviously needs to see a doctor."
"I agree, and while normally I would simply call a local doctor to do a house call, I can no longer be sure of who to trust. Ana also informs me that she likely needs fluids, and probably anti-biotics as well."
"So we need to get to a hospital."
Giuseppe nodded and Tommy began to pace the small room.
"The ICC has a chopper, I think it's in Spain right now, but I could make a call."
The Father shook his head.
"It would draw far too much attention. In a town this small, a chopper is a rarity, people would notice. The church has a van, though."
Tommy stopped his pacing.
"A van? What bloody good is that? What're we going to do, drive to Switzerland?"
The silence in the room was thick, and the resigned look on Giuseppe's face told Tommy all he needed to know.
"Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, you want to drive to Switzerland."
"Actually, Monaco, it is closer. I am afraid it is the only plan I have come up with."
Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose and sat down on the edge of the small bed again. Thinking over the situation, he realized that they had very little time before Bresci became suspicious of his absence, if he hadn't already, and they needed to get Eva to a hospital as soon as possible. If Italian hospitals were off limits, Monaco really was their best option.
"Alright then," he nodded "we better get going before Bresci thinks to look for me."
Giuseppe nodded, saying something in Italian to the young woman, Ana, before he left the room, calling to Tommy that he was going to gather what they needed. Ana quickly gathered up the pile of bloody clothing and bandages, throwing them into a trash bin Tommy hadn't noticed before pausing at the door and gesturing to Eva.
"I get clothing."
Tommy nodded to the woman, then directed his attention back to Eva, who appeared to be in and out of consciousness.
"How do you feel about a trip to Monaco?"
She stirred a bit, reaching a hand out for him.
"I hear it is lovely this time of year."