He lightened his tread and fell in step behind the second brown robe. Lifting his hand to the man’s shoulder, he pressed firmly down on the nerve. When the man slumped, the clothing he carried dropped to the ground.
Falcon lifted him off his feet and stepped into the intersection on the right where he broke the man’s neck with one swift jerk.
He pulled the symbol of il Dragone off the man’s finger and slipped on the signet ring. Picking up the clothes that had dropped, he adopted the ceremonial march to catch up with the first brown robe.
He was holding the sweatpants and tank top that Angelina had been wearing when she ran from him that night. He folded them neatly. Freshly laundered. They seemed to be taking care of Angelina.
Falcon watched the brown robe walking in front of him for any telltale variance in posture, deciding this member of il Dragone hadn’t noticed the changing of the guards.
The man was carrying a heavy silver tray. It smelled as if Angel was about to be served breakfast, ham and eggs. Maybe he’d let this brown robe live if his life didn’t hinder their escape out of the catacombs.
He followed the man into the central chamber and over to a tall set of double doors with a heavy bolt across them. That hadn’t been there two hundred years ago. They walked to the solid oak doors between the stone effigies of il Dragone. His silent companion slowed and hung the lantern he carried on a hook. Falcon lifted the bolt and pushed on the solid oak. Slowly, the doors swung open.
Falcon kept his head down so that the hood shadowed his face while he scanned the cave.
Angelina was in a far corner of the ceremonial hall, away from the fire. She was sitting up on a huge bed on a raised dais.
Relief washed over him. She didn’t appear to be hurt, but his nostrils flared when he saw what she wore, a red satin gown and wrapper. She was dressed like some concubine awaiting her master’s pleasure. Though she had tied the wrapper around her in an attempt to cover all but her neck, the satin clung to her curves and outlined the fullness of her breasts. His grip on the door tightened as he stepped aside to allow the other brown robe with the tray to enter.
Falcon followed behind, keeping his head bowed and fighting the urge to pick Angelina up and carry her away. He had to keep his identity a secret for now, at least long enough to see what type of resistance he would be dealing with when the opportunity presented itself.
He took up the tedious march across the cave. When he got closer, he could see the stoic expression on Angelina’s face.
He’d feared her claustrophobia in this prison. Her eyes were red and swollen, regarding them with contempt and her bottom lip trembled.
Silence reigned as the silver tray was placed at the foot of the bed. Delicate china clinked with the motion.
Falcon glanced at the stone archways on the second level of the cave. He had never been farther up there than the area behind the pit. The arches were dark now, but he felt eyes on him.
When he heard the doors open across the cavern, he walked slowly around to the other side of the bed to face them.
Angelina’s wary eyes followed his movements, even as she tried to keep an eye on the brown robe that stood on the other side of the bed.
Falcon laid the clean clothes down and she glowered at the symbol of il Dragone on his hand.
He stood still as the little man with the big presence came closer. This must be Alfonso Ruggiero. Marchese Carlo Falco remembered him as the accursed Brother Conti, who should have been among the il Dragone to die that night so long ago. Instead, he had lived, at least until the end of the hearings in King Vittorio’s presence. While in prison, Brother Conti had seemed resigned to his fate, refusing to say a word to anyone, even the other members of his sect, as if he were above conversing with them.
The close cap of silver hair nearly matched the light gray tailored suit he wore. Ruggiero strode arrogantly over to them, briefcase in hand, with the same no-nonsense expression he had worn when they had slipped the noose around his neck over two hundred years ago.
Judging from his demeanor, the man had no time to waste.
Bene, Falcon surmised. This will be over soon.
But Ruggiero would have to be taken alive. Granger was recording this conversation for Darien in Rome
Falcon lowered his head and followed the lead of the brown robe, who bowed his head in deference to the leader.
“Angelina Natale.” It was a haughty summons in the diminutive man’s booming voice.
His lip curled. Angel had kept her wits in fear and did not reveal her true identity. Not only was she almost as good a liar as he, but she understood the hazards of her situation. It was clear Angelina had never seen this man before.
“Do you know why you have been taken?” Ruggiero’s cultured Italian held deceiving warmth that was a contradiction to his wintry smile.
Angelina gave him a slow nod, blinking at the obvious power this man enjoyed. His very manner brooked no argument.
“Then you understand the importance of doing everything I tell you to, exactly as I tell you to do it. Luciano will meet your Tony tonight and has already left to make sure that he comes alone. If Tony has been a good boy and brought along the Colossus, I shall give you back to him. However, if he tries anything, you will both die.”
Falcon clasped his hands in front of him in calm repose, but his lips were set in a grim line.
Ruggiero had walked into the cavern with his face uncovered. The man would not let them go free. He intended to kill them once he had the violin. Fortunately, it didn’t seem that Angel realized this. Falcon didn’t want her to crumble. He needed her to be on guard.
“He is alive?” The tremulous hope in Angelina’s voice drew his gaze away from Ruggiero. He watched her golden eyes brighten and it warmed his blood. She did love him.
Falcon had always known, but wasn’t certain that she had come to the realization yet. Her question to Ruggiero had done more to soothe the savagery in him than killing the two brown robes, though the base emotion still simmered in his blood.
“Of course he is alive. He is a strong young man. It was but a glancing blow to his head. Hopefully, it brought home an important message. If he doesn’t give Luciano any trouble, there may not be any need for more such incidents. I kill only when I’m provoked.”
As do I, Falcon silently approved. He maintained his respectful stance and glanced at the other brown robe, whose hour had come after all. He would have to kill this one in order to take Ruggiero. il Dragone would surely attempt to protect the master.
You think you’re safe. Ruggiero knew Giovanni Natale had no family in Italy. No one had sounded an alarm when Natale’s daughter was taken. Although Ruggiero had not succeeded in coming up with anything on Tony Russo other than he was a student at the Conservatory, he probably thought Angelina’s boyfriend was a local.
With his connections to the leading crime family in the vicinity, Ruggiero must deal with locals all the time. The man undoubtedly had access to many persuasive resources to maintain their silence. None would speak against him if they valued their lives. It was a certainty that those who did were never heard from again as they were escorted to the fiery pit.
Yes, the man was snide in confidence, but factor in a past life memory and safety was a relative concept. This incarnation of Brother Conti would never be safe as long as Falcon knew the man was breathing.
Ruggiero thought to elude recognition and capture by having ‘Detective’ Luciano Biagi do the dirty work. He had hoped to run into Luciano here in the catacombs and kill him as many times as it took for him to stay dead. But somewhere in him the calculating presence of that other Falcon still lurked. That Falcon knew it was best that Luciano be picked up at the pre-set location for the rendezvous. He was the key to Ruggiero’s plans.
Besides, it was too late to get him alone now. No doubt, Granger had heard Ruggiero and was making arrangements for Luciano’s arrest now.
“Who are you?” There was now a healthy trace of an
ger in Angelina’s tone as she regarded Ruggiero. She was looking much stronger now.
Falcon hoped the knowledge that he was alive gave her hope. That notion helped calm the beast within that had not yet shed enough blood this morning.
“Who I am is not your concern. You need only know that the Stradivarius is mine by right.”
“Angelo di Luce is mine. The Maestro gave it to me,”
“I am afraid you are mistaken,” Ruggiero said. “There is no Angelo di Luce. It is as I thought; your father did not tell you the history of the Stradivarius in your possession, the Colossus. Made from divine materials, it is unique. The extraordinary craftsmanship was rendered from a design no man derived. The Colossus is mine. I have earned it. It belongs here with il Dragone.”
“Let me go! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Angelina screamed.
Ruggiero came closer to the bed and Angelina moved back.
Her hand moved unsteadily underneath a satin-fringed pillow, threatening to bring her down like a discarded rag doll.
Falcon watched that hand as Ruggiero placed the briefcase on the bed.
“Brother Natale and I had a deal for which he received a handsome payment. Unfortunately, he reneged on his promise. Tell me, Signorina Natale, where has your father been all these years and when did he give you my violin?”
Angelina glared at him.
“Very well, you may keep your secrets, it is of no consequence. The Stradivarius is on its way to me now. And it is time to prepare for tonight.” Ruggiero took a folded slip of paper from his vest pocket and held it out to her. “You will record this message now.”
When she didn’t take the note, he placed it on the bed. “Allow me to offer you a little encouragement. This message will be played for your lover as proof that you are alive. Speak clearly only the words on that paper.”
Falcon watched Angelina reach for the paper and miss it by an inch. She tried again, grabbing at it with some effort.
They’ve drugged her.
Ruggiero turned to the other brown robe. “Jacopo, make ready her bath. Vanuccio will help her, and then bring her upstairs.”
Jacopo walked across the room, through the open doors, and unwittingly out of harm’s way.
Falcon wished Jacopo would close the doors behind him. He wanted a little privacy, but it was not to be.
“Let us begin, Signorina Natale. I am afraid if you don’t start now, we will be delayed, and I don’t like to be pressed for time.”
Falcon picked up the silver salver and placed it on the nightstand. Hovering there, he watched Ruggiero open the attaché case.
Encased in foam were a recorder and a pearl-handled Smith & Wesson.
Chapter Six
Angelina’s tone slipped into unsteady gulps as she read the words that turned her heart over.
“Tony … if you do not follow these instructions, I will be killed, and so will you…” The words blurred on the page in front of her. She couldn’t read any more and dropped the note to gaze at the fiery pit and the golden idol beyond.
The tall brown robe reached out to place the note on her lap. His fingers brushed against her.
She pulled the knife from under the pillow, and stabbed the brown robed man’s hand. “Don’t touch me!”
The blade sliced into his palm. She laughed in satisfaction as blood dripped from his hand and down his wrist.
The brown robe grabbed her wrist and the knife went flying.
With hands clasped in front of him, the brown robe moved to stand next to the old man, ignoring her.
“Tony will kill you! Do you hear me? He’ll kill all of you!” She screamed, watching the brown robe’s hand drip blood.
“You will pay for that,” Ruggiero said.
She sagged against the pillows and stared down at the note.
Armand would fight for her, and these people were obviously crazy, with their weird religion and medieval robes. They were everywhere. If something went wrong with the exchange, she and Armand could easily vanish without a trace in this place that was not part of the real world.
“Go on…” The old man’s disgusted command was choked off.
Angelina looked up to see the tall brown robe with his hands wrapped around the man’s neck.
“Vanuccio, what are you doing?” The man struggled, but the brown robe held a steady pressure on his windpipe.
“Stop. Calling. Me. Vanuccio.” Contempt laced the disciple’s response, sending a chill up her spine. She knew that voice.
Angelina came to her knees on the bed. “Tony?”
A gunshot blasted her eardrums. The old man’s scream mingled with hers.
“Get down!” The brown robe said, but she had already crawled off the bed and crouched in the corner between it and her visitors.
The tall brown robe dragged Ruggiero in front of him and aimed a gun at the stone archways above their heads. Two more shots thundered through the cavern.
Two brown robes fell from their hiding places. Like bats swooping out of the dark, they fell dead onto the cavern floor.
*
“Ciao, Bella. Has anyone touched you?” Falcon pressed harder into Ruggiero’s windpipe. The man emitted a guttural groan that made an irate Granger speak into his ear. “He’s not much good dead.”
“It’s just an arm wound,” Falcon said into the mouthpiece, but he relieved the pressure.
Angelina stood and took a step toward him, but the devil stood between them. “Thank God you’re alive!”
“How touching.” Ruggiero rasped as he moved his good arm and inched his hand over the gun.
Falcon squeezed his windpipe and Ruggiero’s hands grappled over his.
Angelina had not answered his question and that angered him more than Ruggiero’s words. He prodded the old man with the gun. “I can’t kill you yet, but I will put a bullet in your other arm if you don’t stop fighting.”
A brown robed figure ran into the cave. “Capo! Lorenzo is dead!”
“And Capo will be dead too if you don’t come in here and close those doors.” Falcon’s directive stopped the man in his tracks.
Ruggiero still had some life in him. “You’ll never get out of here alive.” He lifted a hand toward the fiery pit. “Come, Master!”
The brown robe standing by the doors smiled.
“Angelina, can you walk?”
“Yes.” Angelina stepped slowly into red satin slippers.
Falcon tightened his grip on Ruggiero’s throat. “All the comforts of home, eh, Ruggiero?”
The ground began to shake.
Angelina held onto the nightstand. China clinked in place.
The fire dragon’s roar thundered through the cavern. Shadows flared, spilling over the fiery pit and spreading over the ground in a black fog.
Angelina came to stand by his side. “What … what’s happening?”
Ruggiero chuckled.
“The briefcase.” Falcon motioned to it, but Angelina was staring at the black fog climbing the cavern walls. “Angelina! The briefcase!”
Angelina backed away from the swelling fire across the cavern. It was beginning to take on the distinct shape of a dragon’s head. She grabbed the recorder and slammed it into the briefcase.
Falcon dragged Ruggiero towards the doors and motioned for Angelina to follow, but she was already running ahead of him to the double doors.
‘Move!’ Granger called in the team.
“No, tell them to stay back!” Falcon said into his mouthpiece.
But Granger wouldn’t listen. He never did. The operatives would soon be in combat and that would bring all of il Dragone down upon them.
The small team Darien had assembled at short notice had no chance against a hundred brown robes in these unfamiliar tunnels.
That is, if the fire demon doesn’t kill them first.
Angelina locked the lone brown robe, who was laughing now, in the cavern. She slammed the bolt on the doors home.
Ruggiero butted him on
the chin with the back of his head, and Falcon’s hood fell off.
“Marchese Falco,” the old man growled.
“You daft old man!” Angelina screamed.
“You must have been some bastard when you were younger.” Falcon executed a karate chop on the pulsing nerve in Ruggiero’s neck. Ruggiero slumped, lights out.
Inside the cavern, the brown robe’s laughter ended in an ear-piercing howl, and then there was silence.
Falcon hoisted Ruggiero over his shoulder. “Run.”
Falcon led the way into darkness. They were a sight, an undercover commando and his negligee-clad Angel, running through the tunnels.
He had put Ruggiero down to shrug out of the brown robe. He now ran in his fatigues, dragging the man’s inert form behind him.
Ahead of him, Angelina stopped under a lamp hanging from a hook on the wall. She dropped the briefcase and leaned against the wall.
Falcon came up beside her and dropped Ruggiero. He pushed her hair away from her face. “It’s all right. Put your head between your knees. Breathe.”
When she lifted her head, she moved as close to him as Ruggiero’s form would allow. “How did you find me?”
“Granger got a tip that led us here.” He would tell Angelina everything later, now was not the time. She needed a few minutes. She looked terrible. Terrified. There were dark circles under her eyes and she kept stumbling.
He thought getting her back would be a comfort. It was all he could do not to shove the gun in Ruggiero’s mouth and pull the trigger.
Something had happened to her and he needed to know what, but not here. If the fire dragon got out of the cavern, they were done for in these tunnels. He had to keep a clear head.
But he couldn’t stop looking into her cat’s eyes, bright and haunted. She should be in a hospital bed somewhere. Safe and away all from this. Instead…
He wanted to tell her everything would be ok, but he didn’t believe that.
How could they have known that the fire devil had not been sent back to hell two centuries ago, that it had just been … waiting?
In a surprising burst of energy, Angelina launched herself at him. There was desperation in her kiss, the way she clung to him.
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