In any case, based on my observations, I was very curious what would be waiting for me near the villa.
Chapter Fifty-seven
From a neighboring rooftop, I had a good view on the Capo’s war preparations.
Several armored cars had done ugly things to the small property’s lawn. Heavy strands of electric wire led from the building’s roof windows to the spots installed all around for ultraviolet—lit—and floodlight—unlit, the balconies had been turned into machine gun nests, and in the surrounding houses’ windows as well as on some rooftops, men with rifles were attentively keeping watch.
They all were using radio headsets for mutual communication, which so far was limited to brief acknowledgements of the I’m-still-there kind, however—not at regular intervals, but seemingly following a random pattern. I was heavily impressed by these well-thought-out security measures.
I hadn’t spotted a single plasma rifle yet!
That worried me—even if the ROS’ strike against the Cartel armory here in Sicily had succeeded, the Families still should have direct access to a few of them? And if it was so, why didn’t I see any trace of it?
Because they held the few weapons back as a surprise that could truly and immediately threaten me? Not a pleasant outlook—how should I deal with it?
Had I better chicken out? Or retreat and thoroughly reconsider?
No.
The more time I gave them, the more sophisticated their security would become. Still, some installations looked provisional, like for example the wires in the open roof windows. Still, there were gaps in the security rings. Still, the guards weren’t perfectly integrated into the measures, couldn’t have done many drills to train their coordination.
No. I had to get in now, this night.
Mate, what do you think about it, I imagined asking the guard who innocently sat next to me on the roof. Are you ready for Velvet?
Chapter Fifty-eight
I decided to try something new. To intrude this fortress invisibly would be extremely difficult and resource-consuming. Visibly, perhaps with a superficial chameleon camouflage, I wouldn’t be able to pass the UV spotlights.
So I chose the way through the sewers. After all, I was a street rat, small and agile, so that a tight tube sufficed for me, and in the face of the proverbial shit I’d gotten into so far, a few real excrements didn’t count. They wouldn’t stick to my suit.
I shouldn’t have worried—the channel leading through under the villa was so high that I could almost walk upright, and had a ledge at the side, so that I was spared stepping into the waste water. Could this channel be a regular escape path?
In any case, this way, whether entrance or exit, was known to the security staff. The installed infrared light barriers, the tiny cameras and ultrasonic motion detectors gave evidence to that.
Without any light, the cameras were rather useless. I guessed that they should detect the light of torches or miner lanterns—or perhaps strong heat differences.
Neither of these installations meant a serious obstacle to me. Such was daily business for me—for Velvet.
The same applied for the locked and electronically secured steel trellis door that blocked access to the villa itself. I bypassed the security, covered the camera, opened the lock, stepped inside, and then reversed everything.
The access led into a spacious wine cellar. I was less interested in the collected wine bottles though, than in the crates piled up next to the hidden inside door with more surveillance equipment, UV spots, self-shot mounts and similar dirty tricks. One night later, I’d probably not gotten in here so easily.
The wine cellar was again secured by a lock, which obviously rather served to protect the liquid treasures, though. Guards weren’t needed here.
Several doors to both sides of the cellar corridor stood open. Laundry room, boiler room, cellar storeroom, another storage room, and one room with gardening tools and an outside door—locked and with additional security. More interesting were the two carefully locked doors. Behind one, I found an armory with numerous empty racks—including one for a dozen plasma rifles, sadly—and ammunition supplies for a small war. Not to mention the box with egg grenades.
That’s for brute force, I told myself, not my style. On the other hand, such an egg could make a lot of noise if I needed a diversion.
So, and what was behind the other door?
A server room. Specially secured, with a sealed data backup cupboard and an administrator panel with fingerprint sensor. Highly interesting.
In any case, I found enough fingerprints. What was the Capo currently working on? Most of all—what had he been able to conceal from the Cartel successfully?
Chapter Fifty-nine
It was quiet inside the villa. Occasionally, you could hear the creak of a plank, the taps of feet, the clap of a door, but in general the guards seemed to be instructed not to unnecessarily disturb their Capo’s sleep—if he could find sleep despite the imminent threat to his life.
The villa’s windows and entrance doors had been quickly and provisionally fitted with additional security, which didn’t bother me—in the well-lit interior I only had to watch out for the guards. In the entrance hall alone, two were standing close to the stairs, and another two were guarding a room door. Thanks, folks, that makes finding my target easy.
In the guards’ range of view, I couldn’t just open any doors. As I was nevertheless interested in the Capo’s office, I had to come up with something.
Similar to back in the cellar of the Japanese embassy in San Francisco, a nano curtain served me well here. After all, I didn’t need more than two minutes to open the safe in the office, browse its contents and replace almost everything the way I had found it.
Thereafter, I could slip back out, collect my curtain and then sneak along the wall to my next target under camouflage.
I couldn’t pass through the bedroom door without alarming a guard, not even with all my nano tricks. Instead, I took the stairs to the third floor. No guards.
The room above my Capo’s bedroom was dark and unoccupied. Perhaps so that no noise of steps from above could disturb him? With every step I observed whether and how the floor gave in, whether I risked triggering a creaking noise, and, in that case, found a different spot to step on to.
Yes—and finally I took the floor apart systematically, removed parquet and subfloor and cut a round, downward conical hole into the concrete. A nano probe told me that the Capo slept in the dark and that there was no guard in the room itself.
Like a plug, I could then lift the cut-out floor-ceiling-piece and place it next to the hole. Admitted, this concrete plug was darn heavy and could only safely be held with the aid of my claws, but as a result, the way to my victim was open!
Noiselessly and quickly, I let myself down through the hole. Gently, as if on velvety paws, I came down to a side of the Capo dei Capi’s bed.
When I saw him lying there, a thought crossed my mind, Jo, do you really want to kill an innocent sleeper?
But for exactly that purpose I was here, and wasn’t it merciful if he simply wouldn’t wake up, rather than letting him tremble for his life? Only a quick stab to the heart, and he was done with it.
I stepped close to him and extended a long nano needle.
At this moment, several shots rang outside the house.
My victim flinched, opened his eyes, and stared at me.
Chapter Sixty
The supreme criminal—after all, part of a plan of mutilating a child to blackmail its father!—died without being able to recognize his nemesis against the bright light shining through the windows from the blazing floodlights. Mission fulfilled, now get out of here!
The door to the hallway was torn open, the two bodyguards stormed inside with half-leveled plasma rifles.
I made a leap away from the bed, bent my knees and jumped arms-forward through the hole in the ceiling. Two plasma balls followed me, missed me, instead
hit the ceiling on the third floor and created ugly big holes there.
My way led to the door, and then to the stairs. Alarming calls sounded from below, the guards from the second floor’s landing were already hastily stomping up toward me, while I climbed to the attic.
I’d avoid direct combat as long as possible, save my powers, most of all not risk any chance plasma hit. The larger the distance between me and these darn things the better.
Thus the cellar exit was out of the question for me, as there were too many plasma rifles between me and the cellar. I’d do better to try my luck with one of the roof windows, open for the wires, and at the same time rely on the spectacle outside to distract from me.
Behind me, I knew at least four plasma rifle shooters, perhaps even six, if the blokes from the ground floor had nothing better to do, and ahead of me—yes, the moment I reached the attic, the dark muzzles of two more plasma weapons welcomed me.
I made a high dash forward and sideways, as far as the no-longer-spacious staircase allowed. The heat of the plasma round whistling past close below me penetrated even my armor suit’s insulation.
These people couldn’t have the opportunity for a second shot. On the first one’s chest I landed with extruded toe claws, where the impact threw him backward, and in falling, I drew my finger claws across the other one’s throat.
With a dry Oomph, my carrier came down on his rump. That was the last thing he spoke. My legs bent, and by pushing myself on, my claws cut through his ribs and heart.
My Analogy told me, behind which doors of this hallway the previously observed open roof windows had to be. I’d have preferred the side facing away from the battle outside, but sadly, the shots rang from all sides. So I took the next door, sprinted to the window and peeked outside.
I immediately became aware of what was happening.
My plan incorporated a tiny, but important error in reasoning—I had assumed I was alone on my mission. However, of course it couldn’t have escaped the Carabinieri’s attention that the last surviving Capo dei Capi had taken flight to Palermo, had surrounded himself with scores of guards and had to expect his execution in the near future.
The regional commander very obviously hadn’t waited for an order from above, which—at least as agreed with Davide and the minister—wouldn’t come until I had reported back. Instead, he had taken the initiative.
Sadly, now I was stuck between the lines. Between alarmed lines. Any moment, the next plasma shooters could appear behind me. Should I camouflage and let them pass?
No—they weren’t dense, they were counting on invisibles. That wouldn’t buy me more than a few seconds. I had to get out and away, even if I’d have to run through the middle of the hail of bullets!
So I adapted my suit coloring, dashed through the roof window—two more plasma rounds that barely missed me verified this decision—let myself slide down the roof, and dropped.
Again, I managed an elegant cat’s landing, and very obviously in the midst of the biggest Jelly crap. Jo, that was not a good plan!
Several guards that so far must have waited for the right moment to intervene turned around to me, among them a brawny guy who I recognized not only by the bandage around his left wrist.
He recognized me, too, and allowed himself a grin—for the fraction of a second, I was distracted, despite a resolute reminding impulse by my Analogy. My reflex-like leap came almost too late, and a plasma round grazed my right lower leg, burning suit nanos, skin, vessels and muscles.
Hell, that hurt!
It’s just pain, Jo.
Still in mid-air, I served the plasma shooters each a poison dart. But now it turned out that the people around were darn well drilled—they hardly needed any reaction time to point at me, and while I still was coming down, which sent another fiery pain impulse up my injured leg, the first conventional bullets pattered at my suit.
Each hit reminded me that my suit was only to a limited extent bullet-proof—at least, I felt the strike, some rounds whistled away, but I also caught several penetrating bullets. Ouch!
Fighting trance.
I wasn’t sure whether it would suffice to get away from here. I shot poison arrows, dealt out claw strikes, tried to get my hands on a pistol—and then the guy with the steel plate in his skull suddenly clung to my injured leg and took a bite!
My situation had become indefensible—with a kick of my unhurt leg I kicked the guy away, pulled the injured leg to my body, rolled around to avoid more shots and finally procure a pistol, and still caught a bullet in my left shoulder.
The fingers of my right hand felt the handle of one of my victims’ heavy pistols, and at the same time I glanced around for new targets.
Steelskull held a plasma rifle in his left hand, the barrel resting on his right lower arm, the muzzle pointing at me. He only had to bend his finger—I wouldn’t be able to yank up my left arm and deal him a poison dart that fast.
Chapter Sixty-one
Our gazes met. He knew that he was holding my life in his hand.
He also knew that his situation was hardly better. Very likely I’d be able to take him with me before the hot plasma consumed my body. In any case, he’d have to take on the Carabinieri next, or the other Families, who, like vultures, were already waiting for their opportunity. No, he had nothing to gain anymore.
A smile sneaked into the corners of his mouth, followed by the insinuation of a nod, and then he turned around and hurried away.
I didn’t feel like shooting his back. Not considering the fact that a machine gun volley whistled close above me—again I tried to find a new position, but the injuries more and more impeded me, despite the fighting and healing trance.
It didn’t look as if I would live through the end of this battle.
I was mentally prepared to suffer the impact shocks of the next machine gun volley, but it didn’t come. Instead, the intense gunfight noise gave room to a quickly spreading silence, interrupted by last, single shots.
Then, panic-stricken shouts followed.
“Dragon!”
A shadow sailed past above us. Someone tried to point a floodlight upward. After overcoming the initial horror, someone fired into the sky, but most men around me had tossed their guns away and ran as fast as their legs could move.
Achrotzyber had arrived.
He dove down on the few who had dared to shoot at him, ravaged among them with claws, teeth, wing spikes, and whipping tail, and then built himself up above me protectively and threateningly.
Good.
Chapter Sixty-two
“Companion.”
Status?
—Blood drain stopped. Foreign objects isolated and stabilized. Bullet wounds closed. Burns at the leg still open. Feeling of pain suppressed. No critical inner injuries. Suit integrity impaired. Limited ability for action established. Resource feed recommended.—
Bad. Battered, run down and bad, that’s how I felt—and if I couldn’t suppress the pain, I wouldn’t be in a position for any reasonable thinking.
Achrotzyber could recognize my situation himself. If he addressed me in spite of that, he had an important reason. I opened my eyes.
“Yes?” Oh dear—my voice sounded as faint as I felt. That wasn’t good.
“Companion, do you allow a Maggiore Rossi to approach?”
“Yes.”
A shadow. My eyes wouldn’t show me more than a shadow. Well, to hear what he wanted, I didn’t have to see him.
“Signora, can you hear me?”
“Yes.”
“Signora, I’m Maggiore Rossi of the Carabinieri.”
“ROS?”
“Correct, Signora. How do you know—no, that’s not important. Signora, from your actions, we’ve deducted that you can’t belong to the Familia. Who are you really, and what’s your business with this Dragon?”
“Commissaria Giovanna Meier, also ROS.” Oh damn, even talking came hard to me. Were the injur
ies that bad? “Achrotzyber’s my Companion.”
“You are Commissaria Meier? But—and he?”
“He is not Commissaria Meier.”
I tried to prop myself up, but had to give up quickly, when I felt dizzy. “His existence was secret so far.”
“Oh. You’re injured.”
Yes, I am, you quickwit. Why else should I make myself comfortable here on the lawn in the middle of a battle with the Cosa Nostra? “Not important.”
“The burn wound looks ugly. A plasma grazing shot? You’re lucky that the leg’s still attached. I’ll call a doctor right away.”
He did, and I had no mind or power to argue.
“I’m sorry, Commissaria, we weren’t informed about your operation here,” he then said.
“No, Maggiore, that’s correct. My mission was strictly secret. Unluckily, our activities overlapped—your intervention led to premature discovery of my intrusion.”
Sadly, I couldn’t clearly recognize his features, but his voice became biting. “You’re operating in my area of responsibility.”
“Maggiore Rossi, I was authorized for missions in all of Italy by Minister Montalcino and Colonnello Altamano directly, thus this is my area of responsibility, too, and if you would have coordinated your operation with the Colonnello, you’d have been informed as far as necessary.”
“To judge this would have been my business.”
“There are traitors working for the Mafia in the ROS, too.”
“What are you imputing to me there, that’s outrageous!”
“I’m imputing nothing, but it’s a fact, that only a few days ago a member of the Colonnello’s team deliberately shot my back. So I don’t have to apologize for the statement that there are traitors within the ROS. Just the opposite—anyone who claims there weren’t any against the facts, has to apologize to me. Clear?”
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