“They are his
guards. They know what happen here. They say we are safe now.”
After Harry retrieved the computer, an air of
calm ensued and he felt his heart rate return to normal. While the
transgenic helpers relieved the hit squad of their weapons and tied
them up using their clothes as rope, Overton walked over, rubbing
his head and wincing. “What’s the plan?”
Anastasia threw him a quick look, and then
turned her gaze to Leo. “Can you ask your friends to drop fearless
leader off at the nearest hospital?”
Overton started to protest. “Hey, wait a
minute—”
“Wait nothing,” she cut him off. “You’re
hurt, and you’ll just slow us down. We don’t have time to fix you
up.”
The agent continued to protest, and Harry had
half a mind to slug him just to shut him up, but he reined in his
temper. “Agent Overton, Anastasia’s right. You’re just dead weight.
We need to go on alone. Leo, could you tell your guys, please?”
Once Leo did the honors, the leader nodded.
“We take him to hospital.”
The three men quickly hustled the protesting
Overton off through the darkness, and Harry and Anastasia got into
the van, Harry at the wheel. Leo clambered into the passenger seat
beside Anastasia. “I show you way to Rome,” he said.
They set off, with Leo guiding them along.
Roughly an hour later, they arrived near the center of the city
with the mole-man pointing excitedly to the side of the road. “Stop
here. We walk.”
Abandoning the van, Leo took the lead and
guided them through the narrow streets, occasionally stopping to
sniff the ground as well as the air. “I check for our people as
well as for polizia. The police, they wear different shoes.
My nose smells difference. I smell the leather.”
It seemed like the appropriate thing to say.
Once they got within range of the Vatican, Leo stopped. “There are
guards there. They no know you, but they know me. We must be
careful and wait.”
“Wait for whom?” Anastasia wanted to
know.
A click caused Harry to whirl around. Five
men-but-not-men stood in front of them. They’d come up very
quietly, so quietly he hadn’t heard them, and he let out a soft
curse. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down for a moment. “Do
not move,” one of them said.
The men advanced on them. They all held
pistols, and at this range they couldn’t miss. Leo seemed paralyzed
by indecision, but Anastasia backed up a step, a low but intense
whine coming from her throat.
A second later, Leo found his spine and
softly spoke to the advancing group. The leader halted and put up
his fist, signaling his compadres to stop. He tucked his pistol
into a pair of torn jeans and advanced slowly. As he came into the
dim light of early morn, Harry made out his features.
He wasn’t human, not entirely. Like the
transgenics in the countryside, this man resembled a cross between
a German shepherd and a man... with the canine part predominating.
With massive arms and a thick neck, he presented a most formidable
image. He and Leo conferred with one another, and the dog-man
turned to Harry.
“My name is Carlo,” he said. His English was
more than fluent, although he spoke with a heavy accent. “You seek
one of our people. Forgive us for being overly cautious, but we
cannot take any chances.”
Message received and understood. Anastasia
cautiously approached from the side, and Harry gave her a
thumbs-up. Carlo led the way, and they moved on over to a metal
grate on a small side street. “This is where we go,” he
whispered.
“Sewers,” Anastasia muttered. “It’s always
sewers.”
As if they had a choice. Carlo gave a mighty
tug and easily lifted the grate off the hole. “Quickly,” he
whispered sotto voce. “There might be spies, and the guards
from the Vatican might see us. Not all of them are on our side. We
cannot alert anyone.”
Leo went first and quickly disappeared down
the hole. Anastasia went next, and Harry followed close behind her.
Behind him, he
guards. They know what happen here. They say we are safe now.”
After Harry retrieved the computer, an air of
calm ensued and he felt his heart rate return to normal. While the
transgenic helpers relieved the hit squad of their weapons and tied
them up using their clothes as rope, Overton walked over, rubbing
his head and wincing. “What’s the plan?”
Anastasia threw him a quick look, and then
turned her gaze to Leo. “Can you ask your friends to drop fearless
leader off at the nearest hospital?”
Overton started to protest. “Hey, wait a
minute—”
“Wait nothing,” she cut him off. “You’re
hurt, and you’ll just slow us down. We don’t have time to fix you
up.”
The agent continued to protest, and Harry had
half a mind to slug him just to shut him up, but he reined in his
temper. “Agent Overton, Anastasia’s right. You’re just dead weight.
We need to go on alone. Leo, could you tell your guys, please?”
Once Leo did the honors, the leader nodded.
“We take him to hospital.”
The three men quickly hustled the protesting
Overton off through the darkness, and Harry and Anastasia got into
the van, Harry at the wheel. Leo clambered into the passenger seat
beside Anastasia. “I show you way to Rome,” he said.
They set off, with Leo guiding them along.
Roughly an hour later, they arrived near the center of the city
with the mole-man pointing excitedly to the side of the road. “Stop
here. We walk.”
Abandoning the van, Leo took the lead and
guided them through the narrow streets, occasionally stopping to
sniff the ground as well as the air. “I check for our people as
well as for polizia. The police, they wear different shoes.
My nose smells difference. I smell the leather.”
It seemed like the appropriate thing to say.
Once they got within range of the Vatican, Leo stopped. “There are
guards there. They no know you, but they know me. We must be
careful and wait.”
“Wait for whom?” Anastasia wanted to
know.
A click caused Harry to whirl around. Five
men-but-not-men stood in front of them. They’d come up very
quietly, so quietly he hadn’t heard them, and he let out a soft
curse. He couldn’t afford to let his guard down for a moment. “Do
not move,” one of them said.
The men advanced on them. They all held
pistols, and at this range they couldn’t miss. Leo seemed paralyzed
by indecision, but Anastasia backed up a step, a low but intense
whine coming from her throat.
A second later, Leo found his spine and
softly spoke to the advancing group. The leader halted and put up
his fist, signaling his compadres to stop. He tucked his pistol
into a pair of torn jeans and advanced slowly. As he came into the
dim light of early morn, Harry made out his features.
He wasn’t human, not entirely. Like the
transgenics in the countryside, this man resembled a cross between
a German shepherd and a man... with the canine part predominating.
With massive arms and a thick neck, he presented a most formidable
image. He and Leo conferred with one another, and the dog-man
turned to Harry.
“My name is Carlo,” he said. His English was
more than fluent, although he spoke with a heavy accent. “You seek
one of our people. Forgive us for being overly cautious, but we
cannot take any chances.”
Message received and understood. Anastasia
cautiously approached from the side, and Harry gave her a
thumbs-up. Carlo led the way, and they moved on over to a metal
grate on a small side street. “This is where we go,” he
whispered.
“Sewers,” Anastasia muttered. “It’s always
sewers.”
As if they had a choice. Carlo gave a mighty
tug and easily lifted the grate off the hole. “Quickly,” he
whispered sotto voce. “There might be spies, and the guards
from the Vatican might see us. Not all of them are on our side. We
cannot alert anyone.”
Leo went first and quickly disappeared down
the hole. Anastasia went next, and Harry followed close behind her.
Behind him, he
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