A/N. - So Daphne is the one with a risky plan this time! Odds on Fred not liking it? Yeah, let's see...

Chapter 5 – Day of Reckoning.

The next morning, as they walked to meet Esposito in the sunny courtyard of their hotel, Fred sensed Daphne's desolation that still hung over her. He assumed it was just about what happened last night. He was wrong, Daphne was about to throw him a live hand grenade.

"Hey we did good last night babe, we saved them," he reminded her gently.

"Wow, two girls!" she replied bitterly. "Who knows how many girls there have been since he started this sick little venture? He's potentially had months of this Freddy!"

"You are happy it is him then?" Esposito suddenly startled them, appearing from nowhere to approach them in the early morning sunshine in the still otherwise deserted courtyard.

"It's him," Daphne confirmed icily once she had recovered from Esposito's stealthy approach. "God, it's really him Esposito and I believe he's more dangerous than ever! How could the authorities ever let him out?!"

"Corruption," Esposito replied sagely but elaborated no further. "So, now you have satisfied yourself that it is indeed Mr. Mario, Miss Blake, what do you plan to do next? Should we call in the authorities together?"

"Actually," Daphne said, with a loving smile towards Fred, "I didn't get chance to tell you this, but it's Mrs Jones now."

"My congratulations to you both," Esposito did a comical little bow. "But your plan then?" he queried.

Fred looked towards Daphne as expectantly as Esposito did in that moment. She looked fiercely determined now. "No, the authorities here don't want to know," she said bitterly. "What we need to get is evidence; evidence that will convince them not just to lock him up for breaching the terms of his pathetic early release, but for good this time."

Fred felt his stomach lurch in his chest, he could tell from the resolute expression on her face that he was not going to like what his wife said next.

"My darling, how do you propose getting evidence?" Esposito asked her in wonder. Fred felt his heart rate going into palpitations now.

"The only way we can," she replied defiantly. "By getting close."

Forgetting where he was and that they were not alone, Fred loudly began his protests immediately.

"You? Getting close to him again? No way Daphne, I won't let you do it! I thought now we know it's him we can just get him arrested again! You don't have to put yourself in danger to do it!"

Daphne had expected this response, she turned to him calmly, taking both of his hands. "You didn't let me finish Freddy. I'll get close but the beauty of this plan is he won't know it's me."

Now Fred was definitely confused. "What are you talking about Daphne? You're talking about confronting him, of course he's going to recognise you!"

"Not necessarily. Remember Talia in the airport in Hawaii? What she wore, especially under her clothes?" she said pointedly.

Fred gasped realising what she was getting at, "but that's still an enormous risk Daphne!"

"Pardon me," Esposito politely interrupted their argument, "but are we talking about a disguise here?"

"No," said Fred abruptly, staring at Daphne defiantly.

"Yes," said Daphne just as determinedly. "Just hear me out?" she pleaded with Fred.

"Fine," said Fred, freeing his arms from Daphne so he could cross them in front of his chest to show his displeasure.

"Okay," Daphne said, taking a deep breath. "My plan is I'm going to play a journalist; I'm going to get him to open up about his lifestyle and try and trip him up. My plan is, that like Talia, I'll wear a wire and recording device and you Esposito will be listening in, and then we will hopefully get some indisputable proof that the authorities here will not ignore."

"It won't work," Fred said immediately. "Firstly, why on earth would he believe that anyone would want to interview him? Secondly, you're out of your mind if you think I'll let you get that close to him in some hotel room without me!"

Daphne smiled at Fred's protectiveness. "I've already thought of that Freddy, I plan to entice him to hold the interview in a very public place, one of the cafes or restaurants in the Piazzas, where I can meet with him and you can sit nearby and see everything. It would be perfectly safe. As for your second point, I've already done the research; he is actually very popular with student bloggers across Italy already. It wouldn't be a stretch for one of those bloggers to reach out to want to interview him."

"I have to say Daphne, this is quite a wicked, wicked plot," Esposito commented. "But I like it a lot, very cunning!"

Of course you do, Fred thought bitterly. You wouldn't be the one putting yourself in danger!

"But I also have to ask you if you are sure about this. I know you are very brave lady but Frederick is right, this could be very dangerous for you," Esposito said in concern.

"We have to put a stop to this!" Daphne declared passionately, looking at the two men in front of her. "Fred, you saw what he was doing last night? Do you really want it on your conscience that we clocked what he was doing again and did nothing to stop him? And I don't mean a pathetic six-month jail term where he'd be out again before next summer. This cycle will never stop unless we stop it. Permanently."

Daphne's words certainly hit hard for Fred. When they found out that Mario was still preying on young women and now had his brother as an accomplice, Fred had felt entirely repulsed. It was so sick and twisted. Ever since Daphne had confessed to Mario drugging her, he hadn't been able to stop torturing himself with thoughts of exactly what the sicko could have done to her. The thought of Mario carrying on with the same routine of attacking drunk or vulnerable women and even younger girls was an absolutely abhorrent one.

He absolutely believed that Mario deserved to be rotting in a jail cell for life for his crimes but why was his wife the one who had to do it? He felt an extreme bitterness that Mario was continuing to get away with murder essentially and the police had turned a blind eye. He didn't doubt for one second Daphne's capability of getting what she needed from Mario, she was entirely formidable, but he hated the thought of her dangling herself like bait like this. Although she had made assurances that she would be safe, Fred knew just being in the company of that man again, even if he didn't know it, could never be safe.

He sighed, making a concerted effort to dial down his anger, and calmly aired his protestations to her plan.

"I get the idea behind it, I do. It's very noble and I don't doubt you can do it. I just hate the thought of you putting yourself in danger," he admitted to her fearfully. "Couldn't we both be journalists?" he suddenly suggested brightly. "Then I would be right there to keep you safe!"

Daphne smiled ruefully. "Having two budding journalists interviewing him? I think that would be too much of a stretch and might well arouse his suspicion and no offence Freddy, but he's only going to be drawn in by a certain kind of journalist and you don't fit the bill."

For a second, Fred looked mildly offended by her comment and then realised what she was getting at. "Oh right, you mean because I have a penis."

Fred smiled a little at that and Daphne giggled girlishly, leaving Esposito to look at the two of them in bewilderment.

"My dear, if you are serious about this, I could absolutely get what you need for recording, but are you sure?" he asked her sceptically. "We could find another way. Catch him in the act maybe?"

Daphne shuddered at the thought. Though she was content to put herself in danger, the thought of allowing someone else to go through a similar ordeal at Mario's hands was loathsome, she wouldn't do it.

"I can do this guys," she said quietly. "I know I can."

"I know you can too," Fred said loyally. "I have every confidence in you but I just really wish there was another way! Things were so much easier when we were just catching men in masks."

"He doesn't need a mask this time," she replied coldly. "His evil is there plain to see."

"Okay," Fred said, reluctantly accepting she was going to go through with this no matter what. "How would you even arrange this interview or get in touch with him?"

Daphne grinned, pulling out her phone. "While Mario is hiding, Alonzo is out there in plain sight and has put out a couple of feelers as a 'struggling musician trying to get signed.' I actually think he's serious about becoming a musician, it's not just a cover."

"Well, he is talented, I guess," Fred admitted incredibly begrudgingly. "Shame he couldn't have focused on that instead of becoming a caped rapist scumbag," he added darkly.

Daphne grimaced and showed them what she had found. "This page lists a 'show-reel' clip of him performing and contact information for his agent," she said and Fred immediately scoffed.

"Agent! Who does he think he is kidding?"

"I'm pretty sure it's his brother. Anyway, given all that, I think he actually will jump at the chance of an interview, anything to stroke his ego," she said scornfully. "So, should I give him a call?"

Daphne looked at them both tentatively. Although Fred seemed to have come around a bit, she knew both him and Esposito had serious doubts about this and truthfully, she did too. Though she sounded brave and confident as she spoke of secretly confronting Mario, the thought also terrified her. How was she going to flawlessly convince him that she was a wannabe journalist while sufficiently disguising her appearance? Like Fred, she knew it would be dangerous but she had to put her fears aside. It didn't seem like anyone else knew the true identity of the 'charming busker.' She had to do this. She had to put a stop to him.

"You can try," Fred said, which she knew was the closest thing to acceptance she would get from him. Esposito also nodded his encouragement so she walked away nervously to make the call. She already had her own fake identity ready – Luciana Peregino.

Five minutes later she came back, looking a little shaken.

"Well?" Fred demanded urgently. "What did they say?"

She looked a little dazed as she responded, almost like she couldn't believe it. "It was Daniele," she confirmed. "They bought it. They were so excited. They absolutely took the bait," she exclaimed.

"Just like that?" Esposito said incredulously.

"Just like that," Daphne repeated. "Tomorrow afternoon at 3pm at a street café in the Piazza Della Signoria, I'm going to sit down with that son of a bitch and give him the toughest interview of his soon to be short-lived music career," she declared venomously.

"Then we must plan!" Esposito announced, clapping his hands together in a little excitement and Fred sighed at his childish exuberance. "Not yet though, I have errand to run."

Fred silently raised his eyebrow with a little suspicion, what was with Esposito constantly cutting out on them?

"Okay," Daphne agreed, "I have a little mission of my own to carry out, so how about we meet again at say 5pm here?"

No, meet me here," Esposito said with a smile. He scrawled the name of a favourite restaurant on a piece of paper and then handed it to Daphne. "The food there is to die for!"

"It's a date," Daphne quipped and Esposito waved as he walked away.

"Mission?" Fred turned to her quizzically as soon as Esposito was out of sight.

"Of course," she said with a grin. "If this is going to work, we have one very important thing we need to do first!" She looked so excited but Fred was still none the wiser. She pulled out her credit card from her purse and waved it in his face and finally he understood.

"Of Course," he mimicked her with a rueful smile.

"Let's go shopping!" Daphne squealed happily.

Later that same evening.

Weighed down by several designer shopping bags, (which Fred had very gallantly agreed to carry) Fred and Daphne arrived at the restaurant Esposito had chosen. It had been a successful and enjoyable shopping trip together. They had visited what felt like every boutique or store in the centre of Florence and Daphne had bought a couple of eye-catching outfit interview options' together with matching shoes, in addition to a few bits 'for herself.' These bits consisted of three dresses, two pairs of heels, a couple of 'cute' tops and various make-up and hair accessories that she 'just had to have'. In terms of 'options' Fred didn't understand why there was a need to even have 'options' but she had just laughed and rolled her eyes at him affectionately, telling him it never hurt a girl to have options.

Daphne had absolutely been in her element and Fred had happily indulged her, enjoying her simple joy as she squealed in excitement at outfits. For a couple of hours at least, it felt like a normal day. They had held hands the whole time (except for when she was trying the many things on) and they looked every inch the madly in love newlyweds. They posed for cheesy photos together by some of the famous monuments, took a slew of selfies and Fred had felt completely blissful and also like the luckiest man in the world as so many local young men had eyed Daphne, and he had smugly given them a knowing look in return – sorry, she loves me.

Then she had walked him to over to a really cute looking street café in one of the Piazzas and he imagined them sitting there in the Florence sunshine together, chatting and laughing while drinking great local wine without a care in the world. She shattered that illusion with one sentence.

"This is where I'm meeting Mario tomorrow," she said to him and the smile on his face had vanished in an instant. "I thought I'd show you first, so you can get an idea of the layout, see it's completely in the open. Very public," she assured him, laying a hand on his chest.

He had glanced down at the bags in his hand and was instantly reminded that these also contained everything she needed for her disguise. Could he really let her go through with this? He wanted to tell her to stop the lunacy of the plan but instead he had smiled and said 'sounds good Daph,'. Weak he had thought, disgusted with himself. It wasn't good, it was bad, very, very bad.

Now, as he sat in the restaurant with Daphne and Esposito, and they discreetly discussed their plans for tomorrow, he felt a wave of despair wash over him. She really was intent on going through with this. Daphne and Esposito were deep in discussion about their plans and he had never felt like such a gooseberry in his life. Neither asked for his input. He had fervently hoped they could find another way but he could see they were both determinedly set on this plan to bring down Mario Materazzi for good. He completely agreed with the aim just not the planned execution.

"Are you with us Freddy?" Daphne suddenly asked him and he blinked, nodding his head at the pair of them. "We were just saying that Esposito will get to the café first tomorrow, then you, then me. We should all arrive separately so as not to arouse any suspicion. Esposito will get there and choose a table where he can scan the whole area. Then you'll sit nearby and I'll come and sit somewhere situated between you both. I'm going to make sure I get there super early so I can get there before he does."

"That sounds sensible," Fred said agreeably but in his brain he was anything but agreeable to this russian roulette of a plan.

With the finer details of the plan all drawn up and discussed, they then enjoyed a delicious meal; Esposito was right, it was a very fine restaurant. After Esposito had very generously paid the entire bill to protestations from the American couple, the three of them headed outside into the cool evening together, Esposito guided them into a quiet looking back street and handed Daphne a small bag. "Everything you need is right here," he promised. "I must ask you however final time whether you are set on going through with this?"

Daphne actually looked like she might be wavering slightly as she clearly hesitated for a moment and Fred cheered silently on the inside, chanting his own manta, Say no, say no, say no...

But then the flash of doubt disappeared from her eyes, and she set her jaw determinedly. Fred saw his final hope crash down as she nodded at the Italian P.I firmly with a single word reply. "Yes."

"Then I will take my leave of you both and see you tomorrow, you can find hotel from here, yes?"

Fred nodded that yes they could find their way back okay, having become familiar with the intricacies of Florence's layout that afternoon. Once he was familiar with a place, he committed the details to memory. He knew exactly where they were so he knew he could easily get them back to their hotel.

"Okay, well, see you tomorrow. You must get plenty of rest, both of you. You are going to need it," he said and then abruptly he was gone, blending into the shadows like he was never even there. A continued disappearing act that gave Fred the willies.

"Man, I wish he wouldn't do that," Fred complained. "But he is right," he said, taking her hand. "We need to rest and should head straight back. But you know what I'm going to say Daph."

"You still don't like it do you?"

"You know I don't like it! You're putting yourself in so much unnecessary danger! We could still just call in an anonymous sighting and boom, he's back in prison!"

"But you know that still wouldn't be justice," Daphne replied, looking tiredly at her husband. "Come on Fred we've already had this argument! You're not going to change my mind on this. I'm doing this Freddy. I have to."

Fred clamped his mouth shut and did not push it a single step further as he guided them back to their hotel with a near uncomfortable silence only punctuated by desperate attempts at Daphne for small talk.

"Hey, looks like there's a big soccer game on," she indicated one of the packed out bars. "Esposito is a big soccer fan!"

"That's nice for him," Fred said monotonously, picking up the pace a bit and Daphne sighed in defeat.

There was a nervous tension between them for the rest of the night back at the hotel and then a decision of an early night which was a welcome relief for both of them. The problem was, for the second night in a row, Daphne found herself hopelessly wide awake staring at the ceiling while Fred slept. She thought she could commit every crack and intricacy to memory already. The plan was buzzing around in her head and she couldn't sleep, obsessing over what tomorrow would bring. She tossed and turned for the next exhausting hour, just willing her body to shut down but she knew it was her mind that wouldn't switch off. Admitting defeat at her attempts to sleep again, she slipped quietly from the bed, at pains not to disturb Fred, and padded over to the dresser. The outfit she had eventually chosen was hung up ready on the front of the wardrobe door, the heels positioned neatly underneath. She then opened a box and fingered the smooth strands of the expensive black wig lost in her own thoughts. It had been such a long time since she had to change her hair colour so dramatically like this (surprising, considering the line of work they were in!) but it was now a necessity. She gracefully pulled back her long auburn hair and twisted it into a bun, pinning it into rough shape, before elegantly shaping the bobbed wig on to her head and smoothing it fully down. Daphne looked resolutely at her partially disguised appearance in the mirror and smiled determinedly at her unfamiliar reflection. Mario was about to find out he wasn't the only one who could pull off a "new identity".

The Next Day - The Day of Reckoning..

"Are you nearly ready sweetheart?" Fred shouted into the bathroom with an anxious glance at his watch, which was showing just after noon. As the meeting wasn't until the afternoon, they had taken the opportunity for a bit of a lie in as they tried to put the awkwardness of last night firmly behind them. Unfortunately, they had got somewhat 'carried away' and now it was a race against the clock for them both to get, showered, dressed and meet Esposito. He heard a muffled 'almost there!' in reply and sat down on the bed in nervous contemplation while he finished getting ready and then bent to tie his shoe laces.

Ever since Daphne had shown him the article back home, that Mario was free once again - and even more so, since he had seen that steely look in her eye - he had feared this moment. She was nothing but fiercely determined and together with an equally focused Esposito, they had concocted this crazy plot. Fred was nothing but a mere passenger this time, a vocally resistant back seat driver kind of passenger, but he had had to admit defeat. The confirmation that the busking musician Alonzo Nicoli really was Mario, and that he was clearly still up to his stomach-churning predation, had emboldened Daphne to press ahead with this most perilous of game-plans despite the obvious risks.

His phone suddenly buzzed loudly with a text from Velma and he read it to himself, smiling wryly. "Hey! Hope you newlyweds have managed to come up for air by now and have had time to take in some other kinds of views! ;)When are you going to Rome? You must send us some pictures of the Coliseum! Are you going to take Daphne back to Venice? I could understand if she didn't wanna go but it would be a real shame. It's one of the most romantic cities in the world! Still no sign of any mysteries here, well except for how my newly stocked refrigerator is already nearly empty but we both know THAT'S no mystery :O

See you guys soon, love V xxx"

Oh, the innocence of Velma thinking they were there on their honeymoon! He was half tempted to text back and explain to her exactly what was going on but stopped himself just in time. It would only worry her and Shaggy. He slipped his phone back into his jeans just as Daphne finally stepped from the bathroom, at first he just glanced at her and then did a double take, his breath caught in his throat.

She was dressed in a black perfectly fitted sleeveless blouse that clung to her curves perfectly and a tailored white skirt that finished just above her knee exposing her toned, slightly tanned legs. She finished the outfit with towering black stilettos.

"Well?" she asked, smiling at him a little nervously. "Do I look chic enough?"

The outfit was truly eye-catching but it wasn't what she was wearing specifically that had caught Fred's attention. It was her hair. Jet black and just down to her shoulders, it sent memories immediately hurtling through Fred's brain of another time she had needed to disguise her appearance right before another terrifying encounter.

Four years ago

...

Fred, Velma and Shaggy were sat together in Shaggy's living room awkwardly discussing their next move against Devon Blake in this crazy caper, when Fred was momentarily stunned by Daphne's sudden re-appearance from the bathroom. Her already striking long red hair was gone, replaced by a shorter, blunter style dyed black. She looked stunning and he struggled to keep his eyes off her, staring at her dumbly until Shaggy elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Well, will I do?" she asked them shyly.

…

He held her in his arms while she shook with rage at the discovery of Ethan's brutal kidnapping as they had found his trashed apartment. Fred had promised her with absolute sincerity that he would help her find her cousin and as they sat in the van moments after, he felt the defensive walls that were fighting their growing attraction to each other, begin to crumble.

His hands caressed her dark hair as he pulled her close and finally kissed her for the first time and it was like fireworks going off in his head with a full ticker tape parade for good measure. He knew it was wrong but it just felt so goddamn right.

…

Propped up in Shaggy's arms, Fred was really struggling as they emerged from the tunnel. His ribs hurt and it was still a struggle to breathe properly. He felt like his already wobbly legs were about to give way completely and he almost welcomed the imminent collapse to the grass he was sure was going to happen despite Shaggy's valiant efforts at keeping him upright. But then he saw her and like a superhero rising from the ashes, he found the strength to rise away from Shaggy's supportive hold so he could stand all by himself once again. There was only the time for Shaggy to give him a very quick once over appraising 'are you OK?' before she ran straight into his outstretched arms and he enveloped her close to his battered and bruised body, tears spilling from his eyes.

"Well?" Daphne prompted, jolting Fred from his little reverie. "Is it too much?"

"N-No," Fred replied numbly, once he had found his voice again. "It's just...that hair..." he whispered, reaching out to touch it. "Is it...?"

"Real? No, but it's a pretty good wig, right?" she smiled, speaking of the very expensive and fine wig she had bought yesterday. He still looked ashen-faced and she faltered, her face creasing with worry. "Fred?"

"It's just I can't help but think of the last time you had your hair like that. The danger we all faced back then..."

"Fred, I told you we're taking all the precautions needed. You'll be right there, Esposito will be there as back-up. It will be fine, Mario wouldn't dare try anything stupid in such a public place anyway," she told him confidently.

Fred lunged forward suddenly and took her into his arms; she looked up at him through her newly extended lashes; her lips shaded in a much darker red than usual, parted invitingly. He stroked her hair before kissing her passionately and pushing her back gently against the wall. He pinned one wrist above her head, kissing her possessively, urgently. Daphne groaned, welcoming the intensity of the kiss and she could feel the building heat as his fingers started to frantically work the buttons on her new blouse, and his erratic kisses moved to her neck.

With the greatest act of willpower she had ever exhibited, she pushed him away firmly but breathlessly, telling him "We can't Freddy!" He nodded and released her hand, clearly disappointed but understanding. He watched her re-fasten the buttons he had popped open; grateful he hadn't ripped any clean off as the blouse carefully hid the small wire discreetly taped to her chest leading to the tiny box (they thankfully weren't big bulky things you saw in the movies any more) that was fixed to the inner waistband of her skirt.

"Was this morning not enough for you? You know there will be plenty of time for much more of that, after" she promised him with a sly smile. "But I can't be late for this, this could be our one and only chance!"

"I know, it's just... damn... that dark hair!" he tried to explain what had prompted his passionate outburst. "It actually doesn't just remind me of the danger we faced," he admitted, taking her into his arms again and looking deeply into her eyes. "It reminds me of that moment how I fell truly, madly, deeply in love with you," he confessed, causing Daphne's heart to flutter.

He kissed her again but they both broke apart quickly this time. Daphne grabbed her bag and then spotted the finishing touches for her big interview on the side. "Oops! Almost forgot!" She snatched up the brown coloured lenses and with only a cursory glance in the mirror, expertly popped them over her ocean blue irises, complementing them with a pair of designer black framed glasses.

She took one final look in the mirror at her appearance and started to feel the nerves build within her. "Will this be enough?" she fretted. "What if he sees right through me?"

This was by far Fred's principal fear, that Mario would take one look at Daphne's 'disguise' and expose her straight away with no telling how badly he might react from that point. The thought had the contents of his stomach doing somersaults and backflips simultaneously, but he knew Daphne didn't need to hear that right now, instead he sought to reassure her.

"You look perfect. Obviously, I see you but to anyone else you look just like a chic journalist. He won't see you unless you're ready to let him."

"Yeah, you're right," Daphne said brightly, trying to quell the persistent sick feeling in her stomach. "I mean it's been so long, why would he even remember me at all?" Fred smiled in return but it was completely unconvincing. They both knew how unlikely it was that Mario would have forgotten her.

Fred took her hand and they headed out the hotel together and walked the short distance in the bright Florence sunshine towards the very public Piazza Daphne had arranged the meeting at. They stood just outside the entrance to the square, right around the corner from the café. He kissed her a final time before putting on a baseball cap and sunglasses and picked up his own 'props.' While he didn't need a full disguise like Daphne, they had agreed it was prudent he didn't stand out, just in case Mario spotted him and it gave the whole game away. He walked away from her and she smiled nervously. "It will be fine," he mouthed reassuringly for his benefit as much as hers and then he was away from her.

He casually walked towards the café, pleased to see it was certainly busy enough. Dressed in his 'I'm a typical tourist attire' designed to blend in, he moved through the square, with his newspaper and crime novel tucked under his arm. He scanned the crowded Piazza for any sign of Mario having already arrived, and then the café as he approached. After a quick sweep of the busy tables, he was satisfied he wasn't there. He was however relieved to see Esposito sitting casually at a table on the edge, on his phone. He walked past him carefully, subtly nodding to him in acknowledgement as he chose a table a few seats away on the opposite side. He had barely been in his seat five minutes before a very enthusiastic female barista came to take his order, and he ordered a beer, maintaining a friendly chat with the barista. "Oh, you are from America! I love America!..."

Once the barista had brought him the drink and reluctantly left his side, Fred snapped open the large broadsheet, using both it and the sunglasses to hide behind. He did another quick subtle sweep of the café patrons and the square beyond it but there was still no sign of Mario. A few minutes passed and he nervously drank his beer as he awaited both Mario and Daphne's arrival. They had taken absolutely every precaution necessary for this 'honeytrap,' including a 'protocol' that was pretty much 'pull here for emergencies,' that he prayed to God they wouldn't have to use. Most reassuringly, he knew that both he and Esposito could be by Daphne's side in an instant if anything went 'wrong'. They weren't in some shady back alley like Venice, the place was bustling with smiling, happy people and it was broad daylight. So why did Fred still have such a bad feeling about all this?

After Fred left her side just around the corner from the Piazza, Daphne took a deep, calming breath and reached into her purse for the tiny almost invisible ear pods that Esposito had given her which she slipped delicately into each ear.

"Esposito," she murmured. "Can you hear me?"

"Si Daphne," came the crackly reply. "Loud and clear. Everything is in place."

Satisfied that everything was now ready, Daphne forced herself to walk confidently onto the Piazza with her head held high and even allowed her hips to sway a little as she walked into the café's bustling sun-drenched tables. It was full of couples and families enjoying drinks and good food in the Saturday afternoon sun and this helped her confidence for the situation enormously, putting herself at ease as she smiled at the children sat well-mannered with their parents. She courted a fair few admiring glances as she walked in, immediately clocking both Fred and Esposito. She chose an empty table in the centre that was in full sight and easy distance of where both Fred and Esposito were seated on either side of her, and she felt heads continue to turn. She felt self-conscious and a little bit embarrassed at her low neckline but she was satisfied. The outfit while still professional enough as day attire was clearly having the desired impact of drawing attention. She just had to hope it would work on her target too.

Within seconds of taking her seat, an overly attentive young male barista was by her side and she smiled flirtatiously behind her glasses and lifted up a finger. "Could you wait for a moment or two? I'd like to wait for my companion to get here before we order together, if that's OK?"

"Si, Si Cara Mia!" he grinned. "Of course." He did a little bow and backed away graciously and Daphne smiled to herself at his youthful exuberance and glanced at her watch. It was 2.45 pm. Mario's 'agent' had agreed on 3.00 pm for the 'interview with the 'blogger/up and coming journalist'. Would he dare turn up early?

She reached into her bag for a large notebook and her phone and a pen, and laid them neatly on the table in front of her. She then unfolded the piece of the paper Esposito had given them including the emergency protocol and smiled to herself as she placed it in her purse. Hopefully, they would not be needing that! She sat back in her chair and waited, trying her hardest not to glance at Fred who was now chatting animatedly with a pretty little barista. She opened up her compact mirror and carefully applied another dark coat of red lipstick and when she looked up again - he was there.

A.N. - Dun, dun, DUN! :D