Forgive No More

by Seb Kirby

  I realized then I had made the mistake of my life in leaving Julia. All I had succeeded in doing was getting myself trapped here inside the labyrinth under San Berado, unable to tell her that Wolfgang Heller knew where she was.

  Chapter 86

  I knew there was no merit in continuing to blame myself for the mistake I’d made in leaving Julia and our son. If there was any chance of saving her, I had to find a way out of this place.

  The Lando man who’d been placed on guard duty outside the room came in every thirty minutes or so to check on me. I didn’t know how they thought I was about to make my escape but he must have been told to keep a close watch.

  The more I thought about it, the more I realized there was a way but I had just one chance of getting it right.

  When the door opened and the Lando man came in I was hiding in the concealed space behind the door and the wall. As he noticed I was no longer sitting at the table and he came further in to find me, I kicked the door shut and brought down on his head the steel framed chair I’d been holding high above me. I used all the force I could muster.

  He was big and for a moment I thought the blow had bounced off him. But after a second his knees buckled and he fell to the floor.

  I was back as a youngster in Birmingham, facing up to my father, Danny, all over again. His endless rage at the unresolved conflicts in his life had made our family a violent place. My response had been to stand up for my mother and brother, Miles, but to disavow violence. I’d found a better way then and for the rest of my life. Through education and reasoned argument, problems could be dealt with without the need for aggression. But since the threat of the Landos had come into my life I’d learned there were times when violence was the only way, no matter how much I’d tried to distance myself from it and how much that invalidated how I’d struggled to be different from Danny. This happened first when I confronted Clinton Ridley and demanded he tell me about his involvement with Julia. Now here was another moment when only violence would do. The Lando man was reaching for the pistol in his trouser belt and preparing to get back to his feet.

  I smashed the chair down onto his head again and drew blood. A gaping wound opened in his bald skull and he sank back to his knees. I swung the chair again and he was forced lower. He tried to shout out. I didn’t know if he had an accomplice outside. I only knew I had to silence him. I swung the chair again and again. More blood. He fell silent, unconscious.

  I took the pistol and waited, listening for any sound coming from outside that might alert me to the arrival of his accomplices. Then I heard it, the sound of onrushing footsteps. One, maybe two, men arriving.

  They would not expect me to be armed. This was the element of surprise I possessed. I knew I could not afford to waste it.

  I had a moment to look down at the pistol, to slide over the safety catch.

  I shot the first one between the eyes as he was about to enter the room. He fell, revealing a third man behind him, who, seeing I was about to fire, turned and tried to run. I hit him in the back with two shots and watched him collapse before he could cover four or five more paces. I picked up the pistols they’d been carrying. I’d used three bullets. With the three weapons I had fifteen shots left. Was this enough to kill everyone in the place and allow me to find a way out?

  I returned to the room where I’d been kept. The man I’d battered with the chair was starting to move. I shot him through the base of the skull and didn’t wait to watch him die.

  Somewhere in the midst of this carnage, I had the fleeting image of my father, Danny, giving a knowing smile, as if to say that if he’d taught me anything, he’d taught me this. Somehow, in this moment, I’d been forced to abandon a lifetime of reason and argument. It wasn’t just the thought of what might happen to Julia and our son that drove me. It was my revulsion at the sick fantasies about to be played out in the amphitheater.

  I couldn’t stay here. The sound of the gunshots would have been heard echoing down the passageways ahead. Others would be coming. I had to act and not stop to think about the consequences.

  Chapter 87

  It was a short run back to the amphitheater. I wasn’t sure what I’d find there but at least I could visualize the layout.

  Inside, preparations were being made for the ceremony that was going to take place on the dais. Overseen by Cleary who was seated beneath them, two men in red robes were rehearsing the wording of the ritual.

  I slipped into the dark periphery of the amphitheater, keeping out of sight.

  The rehearsal was interrupted by the arrival of another man in red robes. He was agitated and shouting, “The paintings. They’re missing.”

  Cleary tried to calm him. “Slow down. What’s happened?”

  “When I went to collect the paintings from the gallery, they were gone. Both Ledas. The easels are empty.”

  Cleary became angry. “Find them.” He pointed at the two men on the dais. “Take these two with you.”

  I didn’t know how long it would take them to find the paintings I’d hidden but something important had resulted. Cleary was now alone. I approached from behind and, before he could turn, held the muzzle of the pistol to his temple. I clamped my free arm around his neck. “Cleary, if you want to live another minute, tell me where the prisoners are.”

  He stiffened. “What prisoners?”

  “Gina and her sister. Ferrara. You know who I mean.”

  “This won’t do you any good. In a few minutes our men will be everywhere.”

  “And that means no immortality for you. Not with a bullet in your brain. Take me to the prisoners. This is your last chance.” I squeezed harder on the trigger.

  There was a risk that Cleary’s words might come true but I was prepared to gamble. Any secret society that promised so much to its adherents would be tempted to keep the numbers small, just as in those churches for whom there are only so many places for the Elect in Heaven – they are all now empty with a vast graveyard outside. If that was the case, my fifteen bullets might be enough.

  Cleary relented. “OK. OK. Don’t shoot. I’ll take you there.”

  He led me along a passageway that began on the far side of the amphitheater and ended at a set of metal doors. I pushed him through and we descended a short flight of steps to a floor below that was less well-lit than what was above. It smelled of decay and the unmistakable odor of human suffering.

  I pushed Cleary further along the passageway, all the time keeping the pistol pressed hard against his temple. He stopped at another door. “They’re inside. There’s a guard.”

  I pressed harder with the pistol. “So, when we go in, you tell him not to shoot or you’ll be gone.”

  He stammered. “OK. OK. I understand.”

  The door opened and we entered a confined space. There were prison cells to the right and an observation position to the left. Another of the Lando men, large and suited, was on duty there. When he caught sight of Cleary with my pistol held to his head, the guard reached for the gun before him on the table. Cleary shouted. “Don’t shoot!”

  The guard hesitated for a short moment. That gave me my chance. I drew the pistol away from Cleary’s temple and fired at the guard, hitting him in the chest. As he fell, I shot him through the heart. Within ten seconds, the pistol was back at Cleary’s head.

  I could feel Cleary trembling, fearing he was next. “You don’t have to do this. I can help you get out of here.”

  I pushed Cleary toward the dying guard and, using my free hand, searched for the keys to the prison cells. They were on a chain attached to the guard’s belt. I removed the bunch of keys and turned toward the cells.

  Ferrara was in the first cell. His face was bruised and he had the distracted look of a man who’d been tortured. Yet he managed a pained smile when he caught sight of me. “James. I did not think I would live to see you again.”

  I gave the keys to Cleary. “Unlock the cell.”

  He made the task of finding the right key as difficult as he
could and I suspected he was delaying in the hope that help might come. “Cleary, open the door or you’re gone like your friend over there.” Cleary found the right key and opened the door. Ferrara came out and I pushed Cleary in and locked the door. “He’ll be safe in there while I release the others.”

  Ferrara hugged me. He was weakened by what they’d done to him since he’d been brought here but he had enough strength left to give me an emphatic embrace. “We need to get out of here.”

  “Where’s Gina?”

  “With her sister, further along, I think.”

  We found them in the last cell in the block. Gina was with her twin sister, Malika. They were drugged and incapable of registering who we were. I recalled how Alfieri Lando had used heroin to drug Julia when he’d held her here three years ago. And I recalled how in the myth of Leda and the Swan, as Zella DeFrancesco had reminded me, Leda had been seduced by Zeus, under the mesmerizing influence of Hypnos. The women had been prepared for the ceremony that was about to take place upstairs. It would not be long before men would be coming here to collect them.

  I turned to Ferrara. “Are you strong enough to help? We need to get them away from here.”

  If he was unsure how well he would cope he didn’t admit it. “James, I am with you.”

  We helped the twins, cussing and complaining, from the cell. They were so much under the power of the drugs they’d been given they wanted nothing more than to stay where they were.

  I placed Gina’s arm over my neck and shoulder. “Gina. It’s me. James.”

  Her eyes flickered. The sound of my voice was enough for her to recognize me at last. “James. What are you doing here?”

  “Getting you out before it’s too late.”

  “What about Malika?”

  “Don’t worry, she’s right here.”

  Ferrara supported Malika as we made our way back to the cell where I’d left Cleary.

  I looked over at the guard. There was a large pool of dark blood under the table where he’d died.

  I turned towards Cleary and shouted to Ferrara. “What shall we do with him? He says he can show us a way out.”

  Ferrara replied through clenched teeth. “I would like to do more than talk to him.”

  “Was he one of your torturers?”

  “Yes. They wanted to know where you were and would not believe me when I told them I did not know.”

  I didn’t know how long it would be before more Lando men made it here. I judged that if the diversion caused by the missing paintings disrupted them as much as I hoped, we should have a few minutes with Cleary.

  As I took out the bunch of keys and began to unlock the cell door, the first of the foreshocks hit. It lasted just twenty seconds but its intensity was surprising. The ground under our feet shook so hard we were almost thrown off our feet.

  I steadied myself and turned to Ferrara. “What was that?”

  He grimaced. “It could mean the beginning of a major earthquake. They say there hasn’t been a big one in Northern Italy for over four hundred years.”

  “Let’s hope that isn’t about to change.”

  Chapter 88

  Though the foreshocks had lasted just a few seconds, their ferocity filled me with foreboding. The next shocks would be worse. A fullblown earthquake was on the way. It was not something I had to reason about. It was something I felt.

  The situation was bad and about to get worse. When I thought this through again, I realized Gina and Malika were in no condition to move at any reasonable pace. Ferrara was able to help but had been weakened by the treatment he’d been given here in the cells. We needed as much time as possible for all three to recover. Yet time was what we lacked. It wasn’t just that the earthquake was approaching. Matteo Lando and his men would soon find us.

  I gave one of the pistols to Ferrara. “If they come, you’ll know how to use this?”

  He nodded. “And you?”

  It was counterintuitive but in this moment it was the only thing to do. “I’m going to find Matteo Lando and Manieri. Get to them before they get to us. Nico, do what you can to bring Gina and Malika round so we have a better chance to run for it when the time comes.”

  Ferrara gestured towards Cleary, still locked in the cell. “What shall I do with him?”

  “If you’re attacked, threaten to shoot him. Otherwise leave him as he is. We need him to deliver on a way out of here.”

  Ferrara seethed with anger. “This man has no integrity. No soul. Nothing is left but a vain hope of immortality that he would do anything to satisfy. What makes you think you can trust a man like this?”

  “I don’t need to trust him. I just need him to know I’ll kill him if he doesn’t deliver.”

  I left Ferrara and the others and climbed the stairs back to the upper level. The passageway leading back to the amphitheater was deserted. I crept along with the pistol raised and the second pistol in my trousers belt.

  When I entered the amphitheater they were waiting for me. Matteo Lando and Manieri were together on the dais and saw me as soon as I came in.

  I decided darkness was my best ally. I retreated into the periphery of the amphitheater and continued to move round the chamber, crouched, watching.

  Matteo Lando called out. “Blake. You should give up now. Your battle is over. Our time has come.”

  While Lando tried to hold my attention, Manieri was on the move, coming after me.

  I shouted back. “You’re deceiving yourself, Lando. I have the paintings and I have the twins. Without them you have nothing. There will never be enough time for men like you. Your day will never come. Your dreams will remain what they are – nothing but self-serving illusions.”

  Lando climbed down from the dais and began to circle the amphitheater from the direction opposite to Manieri. They planned to trap me in a pincer movement.

  Lando shouted back. “Think what’s happening to your wife and son right now, Blake. Why you are not there to protect them? Whose dreams are illusions now, eh?”

  I’d lost both men in the darkness. I pulled out the second pistol from my waistband. I kneeled down and waited, listening for the inevitable sounds of their approach.

  There was the slightest sound to my right. I turned and fired. It was Manieri, closer than I expected. I must have hit him. A lucky shot. The light was too dim to see him, but I could hear the moans of a dying man.

  Before I could turn, Matteo Lando was on me. He held a gun to the base of my skull and wrapped a giant arm around my neck. “Put the guns down, Blake.”

  I dropped the pistols.

  He smiled. “You know it was always going to end like this. I hoped to see your face when I showed you the photographs of the corpses of your wife and son. I hoped to smile as I placed the agony of knowing that in your mind. It would not have been enough to repay you for the trouble you and your kind have caused my family, but I would have enjoyed it all the same. Now, I will have to kill you and forsake that pleasure.”

  He was about to squeeze the trigger. I prepared for the end. A last fleeting image of Julia came to my mind and with it the terrible fear I would not see her again.

  The earth shook as the second wave of foreshocks, stronger than the first, hit.

  Lando was thrown off his feet and sent crashing into the nearby seating. I was rolled along the floor in the opposite direction until I was stopped by something. I lay there, face to face with Manieri. I stared at his vacant open eyes and knew he’d died.

  As suddenly as they had begun, the shocks stopped. I crawled back towards where I’d been hiding before Lando had overpowered me, searching for one of the pistols.

  I could hear Matteo Lando coming towards me but could not yet see him in the darkness. He was close. I could hear his breathing. It told me he’d been injured by his fall but was still strong.

  I reached down. It was one of the pistols. I picked it up.

  Lando fell on me. He had lost his gun but he had the ferocious intent of the mad man I knew him to b
e. He took me by the throat and began to squeeze. I could feel the tremendous, mindless power of those hands, draining the life out of me.

  With the last of my retreating strength, I pushed the pistol into his chest and fired. When the first shot didn’t cause his hands to be removed from my neck I fired again. And again.

  The energy drained from his hands.

  I pushed him away. I struggled for breath, wheezing and gulping at the air.

  I touched my chest. It was soaked in the blood that had flowed from him as he’d lain on top of me.

  Chapter 89

  I waited, expecting a further onslaught but it did not come. The amphitheater was silent. I was right after all. The vanity of those who supposed they were about to become gods had led them to trust few with the knowledge of their madness. Yet I knew there were at least three of the cult members left. The two who’d been dispatched by Cleary to find the missing paintings and the one who’d reported the paintings were missing. I had the feeling there weren’t many more.

  Matteo Lando lay face down where he’d fallen after my gunshots. I turned him over just to make sure I’d killed him. Desperate anger was frozen in his face. He was a long way from the immortality that just a few minutes before he’d thought was his. In death as in life, his was a story of expectation unfulfilled.

  A strange compulsion came over me. Despite everything, I wanted to remove the painting of Leda and the Swan from where I’d hidden it and find a way of getting it out of here. There was no sense in it. The painting had been at the center of everything bad that had happened to me and my family and here was this urge to protect it. Maybe I wanted it as evidence of what had taken place. Maybe I felt the only way to be free of its influence was to possess it. Or perhaps it was about delivering something that would mean so much to Julia as a way of mitigating the fact that I’d abandoned her. I recalled that the Da Vinci Leda and the Swan was hidden with the Michelangelo. My plan was to rescue both.