Edge of Tomorrow (73 page)

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Authors: Wolf Wootan

Tags: #thriller, #assassin, #murder, #international, #assassinations, #high tech, #spy adventure

BOOK: Edge of Tomorrow
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“Yes,” said Hatch, rescuing her. “It will be
great for us all. I think I’ll dress up as James Bond, drink
martinis, and play Baccarat. What do you think?”

“Sounds simply delicious, dear. But wouldn’t
Baron von Hüber get a more royal reception than James Bond?”
giggled Syd.

“Who’s Baron von Hüber?” asked Karen.

“Long story,” laughed Syd. “Come on, let’s go
back in. See if Bruno missed you.”

“I wonder if he’s a good dancer?” mused
Karen.

• • •

After the usual sumptuous meal from Gina’s
kitchen, Syd and Hatch went to Hatch’s chambers at 8:45 P.M. They
had left Sara, Bruno, and Karen chatting over brandy in the small
dining room.

Syd kicked off her shoes and said, “Do you
think there will be any danger in Monterra? I don’t want to get
Karen mixed up in our mess!”

Hatch fixed them both a cognac and sat
next to her on the couch. “Well, Tessitore seems to be in control
of the
Catena
situation. I’m
assuming that he ordered the hit on Lucchese. Why would anyone be
interested in us now?”

“I don’t know. Tessitore really plays rough—a
friggin’ car bomb! But I agree with you that we should be
careful—watch our backs,” replied Syd as she sipped her cognac.
“There’s no reason to think Tessitore would come after you, is
there?”

“Not that I can think of. Why should he?”

“What about that CIA guy in Greece?”

“I think I fixed that. In any case, I’ll
assign Bruno to watch over Karen. They seem to be getting along
quite famously! He should like that assignment!” laughed Hatch.

“From the looks of it, so will Karen!”

They chatted a few more minutes and shared a
cigarette. Then Syd announced with a wicked smile, “You know, I
think I’m ready for some lovin’ again. How about you?”

He leered at her and said, “More than ready!
Are you going to do that striptease thing again?”

“Your wish is my command, sire!”

• • •

The next day was spent in Rome in the fashion
district. The three women went crazy buying fancy gowns, dresses,
pant suits, shoes, gloves, and even new frilly underwear. Bruno and
Hatch took turns watching the streets and buying tuxedos, dinner
jackets, shirts, and other posh clothes.

Karen was a giggly mess. She couldn’t believe
it when Syd and Sara kept urging her to buy things she thought were
outrageously expensive.

Sara told her, “Hatch has infinitely deep
pockets. Don’t worry about it. Have fun! I’m going to! I’m going to
replace all that stuff I have in Florida!”

Syd paid for everything using Hatch’s
platinum, no-limit credit card, which she still had in her purse.
Karen asked them several questions about Bruno. Sara gave her a
short resume: ex-Secret Service Agent, divorced, Chief of Security
for Triple Eye in the southern U.S., solid and loyal man. She even
volunteered that she would love to bed him if the rules allowed it.
Syd was not sure how Karen took that recommendation. Sara liked to
bed most of the men she met.

Hatch treated them all to a great lunch at a
high scale restaurant, then more shopping, then they made the
chopper ride back to the castle at five o’clock. They were all
exhausted, especially the men. They were not professional shoppers
like the women. They all stowed their purchases in their rooms,
took showers and donned fresh clothes, then met for a late cocktail
hour.

While they had finger food and drinks,
Carmelo approached Karen and gave her a folder containing copies of
the Carfagno letter, the treaty and its translation, and other
notes he had taken when Syd had given them her lecture.

“Thanks, Carmelo. I’ll look them over
tonight,” smiled Karen.

Syd added, “Sis, I have a family tree
we had prepared. I was supposed to look at it, but I forgot. It
shows the offspring of the original
di
Conti
. Also one for
Carfagno
, the guy who wrote the letter. It’s in
my room. I’ll give it to you later.”

“OK. Right now, I want another of those
mini-pizzas that Gina made.”

Hatch said, “We’re going to Monterra
tomorrow afternoon. Because of the time difference in Virginia, I
haven’t got confirmation yet on our reservations there, but I
should hear something later this evening. Now, before you women
attack me
en masse
, I’ve had
Gina make appointments for you tomorrow morning at the most
exclusive salon in Rome so you can get your hair, nails, and
whatever taken care of.”

There was a cheer from all three women. They
began discussing pedicures, facials, mud packs, and other things
women do to themselves in the name of beauty. Hatch got up and went
outside for a smoke.

• • •

Although Monterra was just off the west coast
of Italy, just northwest of Corsica, Hatch decided to use the GS-V
instead of the chopper so they could not only fly in comfort, but
could make an ostentatious show out of his arrival with his
entourage. He wanted to make sure that the Prince of Monterra got a
lot of press out of his visit, hoping that would give him more
access to the Prince.

The GS-V arrived at Monte Cristo Airport at
4:45 P.M. Monte Cristo, the capital of Monterra, nestles at the
base of a small mountain on the east coast of Monterra. The
country’s major harbor is there, as well as a marina full of
expensive yachts, and a white sand beach.

The airport was only five miles from
the Royal Palace and the hotel that Hatch and his people would
use—
The Royal Monterran
. They
had five suites reserved, all with an ocean view. Although Hatch
knew that Syd would not get much use out of her suite, he wanted to
maintain the highest appearance of propriety. His and Syd’s suites
had a connecting door, however.

The five of them deplaned and went to the
Port of Entry Office and had their passports stamped. Visas were
not required in Monterra. They encouraged people to come and
gamble. Sara and Bruno filled out the appropriate paperwork so they
could carry concealed weapons while in Monterra. This included
registering the weapons and firing a bullet from each gun for later
ballistics checks in case an investigation required such checks.
Hatch’s Lincoln Industries appointment secretary had listed Sara
and Bruno as bodyguards—a common thing among the rich and
famous—and had received approval by fax from the Monterra Royal
Magistrate’s Office. Syd would have felt better if she had been
allowed to carry also, but Hatch laughed at her, telling her the
gowns she had bought were too tight to conceal anything.

“What about Sara’s dresses?” Syd pointed
out—to no avail.

Although Monterra and Monaco had
similar governments—constitutional monarchies—the similarity ended
there. Whereas Monaco has one square mile of land, Monterra is an
island nation of 2000 square miles and has an airport, several
harbors—one large enough for cruise ships to moor—and had some
ranchers who raised cattle. Still, tourism was their principal, if
not only, income source. Their basic monetary unit was the U.S.
dollar. They had long ago given up on the Lira and the Franc. They
had a mild climate year round, lots of sun, and several pristine
beaches, as well as buildings, obelisks, and ruins that dated back
to at least the 4
th
century.
The major draw, however, was the five casinos.

• • •

A stretch limo was waiting for the
Lincoln party, and it whisked them the five miles to
The Royal Monterran Hotel.

Although the women were dressed in very
expensive chic pant suits, and Hatch and Bruno wore Armani suits,
their entrance into the lobby did not stir up any excitement. This
hotel was accustomed to seeing stretch limos and rich people from
all over the world.

The huge lobby was three stories high
with several crystal chandeliers hanging from brass chains. The
room had a medieval Mediterranean feel to it, even though it had
Las Vegas opulence. Karen and Syd were getting stiff necks from
trying to see everything. Several bell boys unloaded their bags
onto carts and they were whisked to the
14
th
floor in an express
elevator, where they were all shown to their suites.

• • •

Syd and Hatch had finished unpacking by
six o’clock, and Syd had joined him in his suite, when there was a
knock on Hatch’s door. He opened it and found a man in a uniform.
Not the uniform of the hotel personnel, but one that looked as if
it were right out of
The Student
Prince
.

The man gave a slight nod and clicked his
heels, then said, “Good evening, sir. I am Captain Rossini. His
Royal Highness, Giuliano di Conti, has asked me to extend his
invitation to you, and your friends, to join him for cocktails in
his quarters at the Royal Palace at 7:00 P.M. He realizes this is
short notice. I will be pleased to convey your answer, whatever it
is.”

Syd’s mouth fell open! She had expected that
any audience with the Prince would be a formal one—maybe tomorrow
or the next day after Hatch did some politicking.

Hatch said, “Thank you, Captain Rossini,” as
he looked at his watch. “You can tell His Highness that we are
extremely honored and, of course, we accept his kind
invitation.”

“Thank you, sir. I will relay your acceptance
to His Royal Highness immediately. The Royal Carriage will come for
you at 6:55,” replied the captain, all business.

Hatch laughed and commented, “My main
problem, Captain Rossini, will be getting the ladies to get dressed
in such a short time span. Have you ever known a lady to take less
than two hours to get dressed?”

The somber captain cracked a smile. “No, sir!
However, if I may be so bold, the young lady here is dressed most
elegantly already, and her beauty will blind His Highness to
whatever she wears.”

Syd could feel her face turning red.
“Thank you, Captain! You flatter me! However, in spite of Mr.
Lincoln’s pessimism, I do believe I
can
be ready on time!”

The captain clicked his heels again and
bowed. “The carriage will be prompt,
signorina
! I will see you then.”

He turned sharply and disappeared down the
hall.

“Wow!” exclaimed Syd. “That was
impressive! Did he say
Royal
Carriage
?”

“I think so,” replied Hatch.

“Well, I’ve got to go squeeze into my gown
and check my makeup! You’d better alert the others! My God, which
earrings should I wear?”

Syd rushed through the connecting door into
her suite, her mind swirling with all the things she had to do.

• • •

The five of them were in the lobby of the
hotel at 6:53 P.M., all dressed to the nines. Bruno and Sara left
their weapons in their rooms—Hatch had figured they would not be
allowed to be armed in the presence of the Prince. In any case,
danger should be minimal considering the security surrounding the
monarch at the Royal Palace.

Captain Rossini entered the lobby and greeted
Hatch and his party, then said in his British accent, “The Royal
Carriage has arrived. If you would follow me, please.”

The manager behind the huge hotel desk
brought Van Lincoln’s name up on his computer screen and added
another star to the “VIP Status” field. Anyone who rated the Royal
Carriage must be someone very important.

Captain Rossini led them outside and
even Hatch was impressed when he saw the
18
th
century, ornate coach at
the curb. It had four magnificent white horses hitched to it, two
drivers up high on the front seat, and two footmen who rode on a
step in the rear of the coach by holding on to railings. One
footman held the gold-encrusted door open and the other assisted
Karen and Sara up the one step into the carriage.

Syd whispered to Hatch, “I know how you feel
about royalty, but this is awesome! This guy has showmanship!”

“A little pompous, maybe, but definitely good
theater,” he laughed. “The question is, why is he trying to impress
us?”

“You
,
not
us
!” said Syd as the
footman helped her into the carriage.

• • •

The Royal Palace gates were only 500 yards
from the hotel, and the horses walked the distance, allowing
Captain Rossini to walk along side the Royal Carriage with ease.
The ornate gate opened as they arrived and the carriage went up a
road made of ancient cobblestones to the entrance of the Royal
Palace.

By the time they were inside, Syd had a
strange feeling—as if she had gone back in time. It was not like
she felt in
Il Castello di
Bragno
. There, she felt like she was in an interesting
old castle. Here, it was an entirely different phenomenon. With the
soldiers in 18
th
and
19
th
century uniforms,
horse-drawn carriages, and the few women she saw on the arms of
uniformed officers wearing gowns out of a movie about the Vienna
Waltz, Syd had the eerie sensation that she had stepped back into
history. Then, noticing the many modern conveniences in evidence,
she decided it was more a feeling that the people had moved from
the past into the future, but had retained their centuries-old
customs and culture.

Captain Rossini escorted them to a
comfortable-looking room and said, “This is part of His Royal
Highness’s private quarters. This is where he entertains small,
private groups. I think you will find it to be very
comfortable.”

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