Falcon's Angel (18 page)

You think you’re safe.
Ruggiero knew Giovanni Natale had no family in Italy. No one had sounded an alarm when Natale’s daughter was taken. Although Ruggiero had not succeeded in coming up with anything on Tony Russo other than he was a student at the Conservatory, he probably thought Angelina’s boyfriend was a local.

With his connections to the leading crime family in the vicinity, Ruggiero must deal with locals all the time. The man undoubtedly had access to many persuasive resources to maintain their silence. None would speak against him if they valued their lives. It was a certainty that those who did were never heard from again as they were escorted to the fiery pit.

Yes, the man was snide in confidence, but factor in a past life memory and safety was a relative concept. This incarnation of Brother Conti would never be safe as long as Falcon knew the man was breathing.

Ruggiero thought to elude recognition and capture by having ‘Detective’ Luciano Biagi do the dirty work. He had hoped to run into Luciano here in the catacombs and kill him as many times as it took for him to stay dead. But somewhere in him the calculating presence of that other Falcon still lurked. That Falcon knew it was best that Luciano be picked up at the pre-set location for the rendezvous. He was the key to Ruggiero’s plans.

Besides, it was too late to get him alone now. No doubt, Granger had heard Ruggiero and was making arrangements for Luciano’s arrest now.

“Who are you?” There was now a healthy trace of anger in Angelina’s tone as she regarded Ruggiero. She was looking much stronger now.

Falcon hoped the knowledge that he was alive gave her hope. That notion helped calm the beast within that had not yet shed enough blood this morning.

“Who I am is not your concern. You need only know that the Stradivarius is mine by right.”

“
Angelo di Luce
is mine. The Maestro gave it to me,”

“I am afraid you are mistaken,” Ruggiero said. “There is no
Angelo di Luce
. It is as I thought; your father did not tell you the history of the Stradivarius in your possession, the Colossus. Made from divine materials, it is unique. The extraordinary craftsmanship was rendered from a design no man derived. The Colossus is mine. I have earned it. It belongs here with
il Dragone
.”

“Let me go! I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Angelina screamed.

Ruggiero came closer to the bed and Angelina moved back.

Her hand moved unsteadily underneath a satin-fringed pillow, threatening to bring her down like a discarded rag doll.

Falcon watched that hand as Ruggiero placed the briefcase on the bed.

“Brother Natale and I had a deal for which he received a handsome payment. Unfortunately, he reneged on his promise. Tell me, Signorina Natale, where has your father been all these years and when did he give you my violin?”

Angelina glared at him.

“Very well, you may keep your secrets, it is of no consequence. The Stradivarius is on its way to me now. And it is time to prepare for tonight.” Ruggiero took a folded slip of paper from his vest pocket and held it out to her. “You will record this message now.”

When she didn’t take the note, he placed it on the bed. “Allow me to offer you a little encouragement. This message will be played for your lover as proof that you are alive. Speak clearly only the words on that paper.”

Falcon watched Angelina reach for the paper and miss it by an inch. She tried again, grabbing at it with some effort.

They’ve drugged her.

Ruggiero turned to the other brown robe. “Jacopo, make ready her bath. Vanuccio will help her, and then bring her upstairs.”

Jacopo walked across the room, through the open doors, and unwittingly out of harm’s way.

Falcon wished Jacopo would close the doors behind him. He wanted a little privacy, but it was not to be.

“Let us begin, Signorina Natale. I am afraid if you don’t start now, we will be delayed, and I don’t like to be pressed for time.”

Falcon picked up the silver salver and placed it on the nightstand. Hovering there, he watched Ruggiero open the attaché case.

Encased in foam were a recorder and a pearl-handled Smith & Wesson.

Chapter Six

Angelina’s tone slipped into unsteady gulps as she read the words that turned her heart over.

“Tony … if you do not follow these instructions, I will be killed, and so will you…” The words blurred on the page in front of her. She couldn’t read any more and dropped the note to gaze at the fiery pit and the golden idol beyond.

The tall brown robe reached out to place the note on her lap. His fingers brushed against her.

She pulled the knife from under the pillow, and stabbed the brown robed man’s hand. “Don’t touch me!”

The blade sliced into his palm. She laughed in satisfaction as blood dripped from his hand and down his wrist.

The brown robe grabbed her wrist and the knife went flying.

With hands clasped in front of him, the brown robe moved to stand next to the old man, ignoring her.

“Tony will kill you! Do you hear me? He’ll kill all of you!” She screamed, watching the brown robe’s hand drip blood.

“You will pay for that,” Ruggiero said.

She sagged against the pillows and stared down at the note.

Armand would fight for her, and these people were obviously crazy, with their weird religion and medieval robes. They were everywhere. If something went wrong with the exchange, she and Armand could easily vanish without a trace in this place that was not part of the real world.

“Go on…” The old man’s disgusted command was choked off.

Angelina looked up to see the tall brown robe with his hands wrapped around the man’s neck.

“Vanuccio, what are you doing?” The man struggled, but the brown robe held a steady pressure on his windpipe.

“Stop. Calling. Me. Vanuccio.” Contempt laced the disciple’s response, sending a chill up her spine. She knew that voice.

Angelina came to her knees on the bed. “Tony?”

A gunshot blasted her eardrums. The old man’s scream mingled with hers.

“Get down!” The brown robe said, but she had already crawled off the bed and crouched in the corner between it and her visitors.

The tall brown robe dragged Ruggiero in front of him and aimed a gun at the stone archways above their heads. Two more shots thundered through the cavern.

Two brown robes fell from their hiding places. Like bats swooping out of the dark, they fell dead onto the cavern floor.

*

“Ciao, Bella. Has anyone touched you?” Falcon pressed harder into Ruggiero’s windpipe. The man emitted a guttural groan that made an irate Granger speak into his ear. “He’s not much good dead.”

“It’s just an arm wound,” Falcon said into the mouthpiece, but he relieved the pressure.

Angelina stood and took a step toward him, but the devil stood between them. “Thank God you’re alive!”

“How touching.” Ruggiero rasped as he moved his good arm and inched his hand over the gun.

Falcon squeezed his windpipe and Ruggiero’s hands grappled over his.

Angelina had not answered his question and that angered him more than Ruggiero’s words. He prodded the old man with the gun. “I can’t kill you yet, but I will put a bullet in your other arm if you don’t stop fighting.”

A brown robed figure ran into the cave. “Capo! Lorenzo is dead!”

“And Capo will be dead too if you don’t come in here and close those doors.” Falcon’s directive stopped the man in his tracks.

Ruggiero still had some life in him. “You’ll never get out of here alive.” He lifted a hand toward the fiery pit. “Come, Master!”

The brown robe standing by the doors smiled.

“Angelina, can you walk?”

“Yes.” Angelina stepped slowly into red satin slippers.

Falcon tightened his grip on Ruggiero’s throat. “All the comforts of home, eh, Ruggiero?”

The ground began to shake.

Angelina held onto the nightstand. China clinked in place.

The fire dragon’s roar thundered through the cavern. Shadows flared, spilling over the fiery pit and spreading over the ground in a black fog.

Angelina came to stand by his side. “What … what’s happening?”

Ruggiero chuckled.

“The briefcase.” Falcon motioned to it, but Angelina was staring at the black fog climbing the cavern walls. “Angelina! The briefcase!”

Angelina backed away from the swelling fire across the cavern. It was beginning to take on the distinct shape of a dragon’s head. She grabbed the recorder and slammed it into the briefcase.

Falcon dragged Ruggiero towards the doors and motioned for Angelina to follow, but she was already running ahead of him to the double doors.

‘Move!’ Granger called in the team.

“No, tell them to stay back!” Falcon said into his mouthpiece.

But Granger wouldn’t listen. He never did. The operatives would soon be in combat and that would bring all of
il Dragone
down upon them.

The small team Darien had assembled at short notice had no chance against a hundred brown robes in these unfamiliar tunnels.

That is, if the fire demon doesn’t kill them first.

Angelina locked the lone brown robe, who was laughing now, in the cavern. She slammed the bolt on the doors home.

Ruggiero butted him on the chin with the back of his head, and Falcon’s hood fell off.

“Marchese Falco,” the old man growled.

“You daft old man!” Angelina screamed.

“You must have been some bastard when you were younger.” Falcon executed a karate chop on the pulsing nerve in Ruggiero’s neck. Ruggiero slumped, lights out.

Inside the cavern, the brown robe’s laughter ended in an ear-piercing howl, and then there was silence.

Falcon hoisted Ruggiero over his shoulder. “Run.”

Falcon led the way into darkness. They were a sight, an undercover commando and his negligee-clad Angel, running through the tunnels.

He had put Ruggiero down to shrug out of the brown robe. He now ran in his fatigues, dragging the man’s inert form behind him.

Ahead of him, Angelina stopped under a lamp hanging from a hook on the wall. She dropped the briefcase and leaned against the wall.

Falcon came up beside her and dropped Ruggiero. He pushed her hair away from her face. “It’s all right. Put your head between your knees. Breathe.”

When she lifted her head, she moved as close to him as Ruggiero’s form would allow. “How did you find me?”

“Granger got a tip that led us here.” He would tell Angelina everything later, now was not the time. She needed a few minutes. She looked terrible.
Terrified.
There were dark circles under her eyes and she kept stumbling.

He thought getting her back would be a comfort. It was all he could do not to shove the gun in Ruggiero’s mouth and pull the trigger.

Something had happened to her and he needed to know what, but not here. If the fire dragon got out of the cavern, they were done for in these tunnels. He had to keep a clear head.

But he couldn’t stop looking into her cat’s eyes, bright and haunted. She should be in a hospital bed somewhere.
Safe and away all from this. Instead…

He wanted to tell her everything would be ok, but he didn’t believe that.

How could they have known that the fire devil had not been sent back to hell two centuries ago, that it had just been … waiting?

In a surprising burst of energy, Angelina launched herself at him. There was desperation in her kiss, the way she clung to him.

So, she does know we probably won’t make it.

Falcon kissed her harder. His tongue trailed down her neck to that sweet spot between her breasts, for what might be the last time.

She took his head in both hands and lifted it. “When you lay there in the street, I thought you were … I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you!”

“Baby, don’t cry…” He brushed tears away from her cheek.

“Your hand,” Angelina lifted his hand and turned it, examining his palm. The blood on it had dried.

“It’s okay now,” he said.

Fortunately, she couldn’t see that it was already healing. It meant she still did not remember about
il Dragone
, the fire dragon, anything.

Maybe that was a good thing. She had no idea what they were up against, or she wouldn’t have ever stopped running.

“But I stabbed you in the palm. It was bleeding.”

“Not anymore. It wasn’t that bad. Come here.” She wanted to talk, but he was done with talking.

He wrapped his arms around her waist, running a hand down the satin-covered curve of her spine. He drew her up against him as close as his artillery belt would allow.

Angelina stiffened.

“What’s wrong?”

“N-nothing.” Angelina wouldn’t look him in the eye when she tilted his mouthpiece up to give him the most reserved, apologetic kiss they had ever experienced together.

Oh, yeah, something.
But she was alive and he was so grateful, and they weren’t going to die like this, with her afraid of him.

Falcon slanted his mouth over hers and backed her into the cool stone. The ammo strapped around his chest was keeping them apart.

Angelina tugged on the belt at his waist to bring his hips flush with hers. His kiss pressed her back into the wall, and she moaned.

He felt the tears running down her cheeks. “Angel…”

‘Hey, you two have a room, but you’re not in it yet, so would you keep moving?’

He had forgotten about Granger.

Falcon took Angelina’s hand and spoke into the mouthpiece. “How far did they get?” He dragged his necessary burden behind them.

‘They found a body,’ Granger accused.

“The mute,” he said, avoiding Angelina’s gaze. “I stashed him just past the first Y-junction. They’re about twenty minutes away.” Jacopo would soon wonder why their captive had not come for her bath, and he’d open those cavern doors.

He turned to Angelina. “We’re going to move now. Ready?”

She didn’t look ready, there were questions in her eyes, but she nodded.

They ran through the dark, his headlight cutting a path.

At the second junction he heard the dragon’s roar behind them, then shouts, angry, unintelligible words. He couldn’t tell if it was the team or the brown robes approaching.

Falcon motioned to Angelina to go before him into the left passageway where he’d dragged Lorenzo’s body earlier. He pointed to the body and put a finger to his lips.

Turning her face away from the dead body, Angelina slid behind him against the wall. She clutched the briefcase, shaking.

He put a silencer on his Glock. When Ruggiero stirred in the middle of the path, he used the gun to put him out again with a blow to the temple. He turned off his headlight and waited.

*

Angelina felt icy fingers on the nape of her neck.

The hounds of hell were on their heels, and heavy footfalls pounded towards them through the tunnels. She could make out their words now as the brown robes came closer. They debated in anxious Italian, which passages to search. They were afraid of something in the tunnels.
il Dragone,
they said.

The Dragon.

Red, fiery eyes flashed in her mind.
Who are these people?

Her heart would beat right out of her chest while they waited in the dark.

The wind whipping around them made her look behind her more than once into the black void they had entered. She could not see if anything or anyone came upon them from the gaping darkness beyond.

Angelina held onto Armand, wishing for another lamp overhead. It was so dark in the tunnel that she couldn’t see Armand’s back right in front of her.

Thunder rolled through the tunnels again and the fiery eyes flashed in her mind. She had seen those eyes in the cavern’s fire, or at least thought she had.

Angelina shut her eyes this time, but that gaze remained imprinted on the inside of her closed lids.

Now the eyes were darker in a face slack with lust. She heard Luciano Biagi’s animal grunts as he pushed against her. She felt his hand…

Her eyes flew open. She wanted to scream. She needed reassurance that Armand was with her in this nightmare. As if he knew this, his warm, muscled arm pressed lightly against her chest. She leaned against him.

The dark shifted to umber and got lighter, still. The brown robes carried a lamp.

Angelina held her breath. Pressed against Armand’s back, she could feel him waiting for an opportunity.

Two of the brown robes ran down the right passage. One of them held a lamp and it bobbed by, the sound of their footfalls faded to silence.

But the light didn’t recede with their retreat. There was another lamp coming their way. These brown robes were quiet. They knew intruders were close.

When the stealthy brown robe turned into the passage, Armand put a bullet through his brain.

Angelina stared at Jacopo’s features frozen when he fell face-first into the dirt. A second brown robe stumbled over his fallen companion and in his surprise, backed up.

Armand grabbed him by the shoulder. Dragging him into the passage, he fired a shot point-blank through his heart.

She could not tear her eyes away from the body as it fell to the ground. She turned to face the wall.

The brown robe’s lamp clattered to the floor and Armand kicked dirt onto the wick to douse it, but not soon enough.

Angelina glimpsed the wall she was holding on to. There were carvings of names and dates along the wall: 1074 A.D., 1202 A.D…

Graves lined the tunnel walls. The dead were all around her, encased in the walls.

Red eyes flashed again, coming at her through the grave closest to her.

Angelina choked on a scream, a sound that echoed through the tunnel.

Armand covered her mouth, turning her head in towards his chest, away from the carved stones. She clung to him and they stood amongst the dead brown robes in the dark, waiting for what seemed interminable minutes for more sounds of pursuit.

When no one else came their way, Armand turned on his headlight.

Armand the Assassin seemed unmoved by it all as he dragged Ruggiero’s body out of the passageway.

To her, the last two days she’d spent in the devil’s private chambers paled in comparison to these death tunnels. It was a gruesome trail of breadcrumbs her boyfriend left in his passing.