Page 12 of Light Me Up

“I take it Captain Lella accepted your employment credentials?” he asked.

Russo’s lips curled unpleasantly at the mention of Gianfranco Folti’s head of security. “Absolutely,” he said. “Not a single question during the interview. Or after it.”

“Good. And you’ve worked there how long now?Eight months?”

“Almost nine. By the way, the reengineered cell phone you gave me worked like magic. As soon as I pulsed the frequency, Lella stopped talking and just looked blank for a few seconds. Then he shook himself out of it, and hired us on the spot. Just like yousaid he would.”

All according to plan. Still, Konig disliked the avid look on Russo’s face. Russo had deeply enjoyed the experience of brain-fucking Lella.

It was to be expected that activating the command implants in Lella’s skull plate would be amusing for a natural bully. But Russo had liked it too much for Konig’s taste. The man’s enthusiasm was obscene.

Besides, they were not partners. Konig did not share withdogs and pigs.

All three men now knew far too much about what had really happened to Gianfranco Folti’s head of security, Captain Lella. His apparent “kidnapping” by VIRIS, a hitherto unknown band of extremist terrorists. His horrific torture and captivity in northern Africa, documented in harrowing videos that had beenposted online.

It had been an expensive, elaborate, incredibly complicated piece of multimedia theater, but he’d ultimately pulled it off. The gruesome torture had been real enough for Lella, poor bastard, but that unfortunate detail had been absolutely necessary to makethe plan work.

All the men who’d playacted as VIRIS fighters were dead now. So were the mercenary soldiers sent to “rescue” Lella when the team of rogue neurosurgeons were done with him. They’d incorporated command implants into his skull plate, a relic of a previous injury. The plate did double duty as a cover for the implants, which rendered Lella completely vulnerable to suggestion when the command frequencywas activated.

Konig’s plan had worked perfectly so far. During Lella’s lengthy and exhaustive medical treatment after his rescue, no doctor or technician had ever detected the implants.

That skull plate was the catalyst. It had given Konig an idea years ago, after meeting Lella at a dinner party not long after the discovery of the Cross of Orazio and the beginning of the excavation. A tantalizing seed of an idea that had grown into something magnificent.

But Russo and his cohorts knew the details. And they were stupid enough to blab or boast. To earn points, to get laid. An unacceptable risk.

“The only problem now is Morelli,” Russo went on. “He’s been a real pain in the ass. Lella called him in a few weeks ago, and I haven’t been able to use the command frequency at all ever since he showed up. Morelli knows Lella from back in their military days. They served for years together. He’d notice any sudden change in Lella’s behavior.”

“Hmm,” Konig said, his voice chilly. “Then it’s just as well Morelli’s presence is making you cautious. The command frequency is not a toy for youto play with.”

“Of course not, sir.” Russo sounded put upon.

Konig strode over to the dining table and took three crystal wine glasses, prepared carefully beforehand, off a tray. He set them on the table and poured a little wineinto each one.

“So far, so good. Let’s toast to tomorrow’s big enterprise.” He topped off his own glass. “For luck, gentlemen. Just a few swallows, since you’re all still on the job tonight.”

Russo, Naimo, and Vilardi exchanged swift glances, but they approached the table readily enough. They raised their glasses when he did and gulped down the contents.

He saw from their faces that the excellence of the wine was loston them. Pigs.

“One more thing,” he said. “I need to confirm that the surveillance system in the new locale is functioning. Russo, you show it to me.” He turned to Naimo and Vilardi. “You twowait outside.”

“Yes, sir.” The younger men clumped out.

Russo set down his empty glass and slid a silver laptop out of its case and onto the table, opening it. When the screen came to life he pulled up a file with a tap.

“This is a live feed from the Sala dell’Annunziata,” he said. “Four differentcamera angles.”

The hall was dim at this hour of the night. Just a few lights were trained upon the towering golden cross, presented dramatically against a semicircle of matte black panels. It was striking, glowing in the dark, seemingly by some mysterious inner light of its own. It looked utterly authentic.

“And here are hard copies of the guest list, approved by Lella, as you requested,” Russo said, putting a stack of stapled papers on the dining room table. “The asterisked ones arrive in Rome tomorrow for the unveiling of the cross and the formal dinner. The rest are already here, attending the conference. We’ve confirmed all the hotel check-ins. Every name on that list should be in attendance tomorrow evening.”

Konig swiftly ran his eye over the names, noting the heads of several big banks and numerous CEOs of huge multinational corporations. Some of them he knew personally, but he wouldn’t mourn any of them,male or female.

The list was exactly what he had hoped for. Charming, cultured Gianfranco always did have a knack for kissing the right asses, whatever else couldbe said of him.

Konig regretted only one thing. The unveiling ceremony had been tacked onto Gianfranco’s renowned global economic conference for which cutthroat venture capitalists and brilliant financiers vied every year to speak. Their loss would be a true waste. Konig hated waste.

But for great rewards, great sacrifice was required. It wasa natural law.

---