It was no use. What could he do?
“I will think about it,” he said, and punched a key to turn off their faces from his computer screen.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Castel Rigone
Nicholas and Mike dropped Kitsune halfway up the hill with a flashlight, water, and her two guns, then drove the rest of the way up to the town square.
Nicholas saw a jumble of stone buildings, winding paths with trees and flowers. As he parked, he saw the town was beautiful, small, all the ancient buildings like glittering diamonds
around a magnificent stone at its center, the Kohath palazzo.
The palazzo had been beautifully restored. Nicholas could see where small chunks of newer stone had been inserted to mend the original. The flagstones gleamed. Above the palazzo’s entrance, the flags of Italy, the U.K., and the province of Umbria snapped in the breeze. There was a war statue dedicated to the local soldiers lost in the world wars, a common sight throughout Italy. A café with three empty outdoor metal tables, four attached stone houses, and a medieval Gothic church rounded out the large square.
Across the piazza, two older Italian women came to their doors to watch the strangers, faces suspicious and wary.
Mike breathed in the soft Italian air. “It’s beautiful here, Nicholas. Can you imagine relaxing over in that small café, sitting and drinking a glass of wine, watching the world go by? Maybe not today. It’s easy to see we’re not welcome. Do you think the Kohaths already know we’re here?”
“Of course they do. When this is all over, perhaps you and I can come back here and have that wine and watch this small world go about its business. . . . You ready?”
“I am. When we split up, promise me you’ll be careful. And try to buy me enough time to get Kitsune into the house.”
“I will. Don’t forget, in three-minute intervals I want to hear your voice, otherwise, I’m coming after you.”
“You have my Faraday bag?”
He reached into his go-bag. “For you, Agent Caine, I have a smaller one. It should fit into your pants but I could be wrong.”
Mike studied the small silver bag, about the size of a sandwich Ziploc. “Are you saying my jeans are too tight?”
“Oh, no. They’re quite perfect. As is what goes in them. Put your phone and earwig in it, stuff it down the front of your drawers, and let’s go.”
“Is there a reason why I can’t put this in my jacket pocket?”
“If they frisk us, we might end up with guns to our heads.”
He watched her slip the bag down the front of her jeans as he clicked the button on his comms. “Gray, do you have us?”
“I do,” Gray said. “From New York to Italy, amazing. You’re going to go offline shortly?”
“Yes. I’ll be back up and running in about thirty minutes. With luck, I’ll get a couple of bugs in place so we can hear what the Kohaths decide to do after we leave.” And Nicholas hoped that would be the case.
“Don’t forget, the transportable parabolic only has a range of about fifty yards. If you’re sure they’re going to stay in a room, plant it on the furniture. But if you think they’ll move around, try to get it on clothing.
“Nicholas, what worries me is that if the walls are too thick, it might not work at all.”
“You’re good, Gray. It’ll work.”
“From your mouth to God’s ear. Good luck.”
Mike and Nicholas got out of the car and walked to the palazzo’s front door, aware of being watched and studied. Mike realized to sneak into this place would be impossible, even in the dead of night.
There was no bell, but the double wooden door had twin brass lion-head knockers, a ring through the extended tongues. Nicholas rapped a tongue against the door three times.
Moments later, a small, dark-haired woman in a white silk blouse and black pants opened the door. A maid, but a very stylish one.
“Si?”