UNDER THE CLOAK

by Lennek, Nicole

  “Bloody hell!”

  He grabbed his phone and texted her.

  “Okay. Tell me where and when”.

  “Your home. Tonight” she replied. It was her chance to find the case.

  She wasn’t up to sleep with him.

  Chapter 20

  Alessandro drove between two rows of trees; the street lamps lightened up the dark night; events were falling on him, and he couldn’t keep them under control. He felt angry.

  She was following him with her own car. He signalled he was up to turn and took a side street; he wanted to be sure nobody else was following him. When he got sure, he parked in front of the main door.

  Chiara snorted. Why was he taking that street? There was no one besides them. Was he afraid because of those guys outside the restaurant? When he parked his car, she did the same.

  “Come on!”

  He was in a hurry; he checked both the sides of the street. His behaviour was suspect. Chiara shivered: no one knew where she was. If she had found him corrupt, he could have prepared a trap. She stopped and he turned back; her eyes were full with fears and unresolved questions.

  “Are you coming?” he asked.

  “Yes, I am!” She followed him to his door.

  “Want a coffee?”

  “I want a reason!”

  She looked for the brown case; it was on a shelf. He didn’t open it yet.

  “How do you know Jamal?”

  He froze out. Then, he took off his jacket and turned her shoulders:

  “It’s a long story!”

  “I have all night!” she answered, begging him mentally. Give me a reason; tell me you’re not corrupt.

  “How does it look to you?”

  She shook her head and sat on the couch.

  “I don’t know. Tell me how it is. I’m listening”.

  “Jamal is an informant”.

  “So he works for you. Why nobody knows about him? Nor the bosses nor your guys?”

  ‘Reflect, Alessandro’ he told himself, drumming his fingers on the table. He whirled out and looked at her: “Who are you Chiara?”

  She looked back at him. Thanks God they were apart; she could barely ignore his scent, his eyes, the strength of his hands.

  “I am the one who asks questions”.

  He was taking time. She sighed:

  “I see you aren’t going forth. No problem; if Jamal’s an informant of you, you’ll be able to provide any reason in a few. Won’t you?

  She grabbed her phone and he sprung out, feline, catching her hand. She looked up.

  “Who you’re going to call?”

  “Ale?”

  He looked at the screen and read the name of her boss on it.

  “Who’s that?”

  “My supervisor” she replied, confused. He was too worried. There was something rotten in that story. “Come on. Who am I supposed to be, Ale?” she asked.

  His hand trembled on her wrist.

  “I don’t know. Your questions aren’t casual at all. You are inquiring. I don’t know why, or for whim, or how! I don’t even know which side you are on!”

  She winced and stepped back: “What about you! You screwed up the stakeout; you tried and avoided the detainees to talk with me after the robbery. Which side are you on, Ale?”

  “The same of you!”

  “Show me the case you were given!”

  He grew paler; his gaze was firm and he didn’t look at the case but stayed on her.

  “I won’t!”

  “You won’t? Are you sure? What’s in the case, compromising material?”

  He ran a hand through his hair and started walking back and forth:

  “The hell, no!”

  “So what? Who were in the car, tonight?”

  “I’m not corrupt. I have been worked undercover with the counterterrorism for fourteen months, Chiara!”

  “You lie!”

  “I don’t! We believe there is someone colluded with a terrorist cell. Now, tell me who are you. Because I thought you was one of them. Maybe you was sent to look for anyone inquiring on our mole!”

  Chiara winced again. Could she trust him?

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “You have to!”

  “Give me the case.”

  “I don’t even know what is inside. I don’t think I will”.

  Chiara went to the desk; he reached her quickly and grabbed her arm. Chiara turned back.

  “Let’s open it! You are undercover. So am I. None of us two is a bad one. Or maybe you hide me something!”

  “Chiara, I told you too much. We are walking on a faulty ground”.

  He was regretting; she could see it in his eyes: the shadows in his gaze told something he wanted to hide behind his indolence. She realized his smile never reached his eyes: he looked serious, disenchanted.

  “Alessandro, we have to change our ways. Think of those men; maybe we are losing something important!”

  “The only thing we can lose together is our mind”.

  She stared at him and lowered her eyes; a bulge on his pelvis was the concrete proof of what he said.

  “It’s not a good reason to avoid talking!”

  “That’s not what I said!”

  His eyes were full of doubts; he was fighting against himself and his principles.

  “I trusted you. Will you do the same with me?”

  She leaned out to take the case. He blocked her again and she whirled out, pushed him away with both hands on his chest and stared at him furiously.

  “Chiara!”

  “What? Chiara what? Open this fucking case! What are you worried about?”

  She was sweating. She wasn’t like her twin Mia. She always was strong and calm, not impulsive; Mia was in love with her captain, Simone. Was she happy?

  She brought her attention back to Alessandro.

  “You know too much. It took me months to win their friendship and get into the racket. I’m not screwing all it up for you!”

  She drew out her gun and pointed it to him.

  He winced out. “Are you serious Chiara? You are pointing me a gun?”

  “I have a mission. I’m going to open that case, with or without your consent!”

  Alessandro put his hands up.

  “Locked and loaded?”

  “As always.” She took the case; her heart was pounding. He was so handsome; she wondered if she ever had found the courage to shoot him. She lowered her eyes and he took advantage of her distraction; he twisted her arm and pushed the gun away. Then he pulled her close.

  “You met you match, Chiara”.

  He stole the case from her hands; they heart were beating as one. She whirled out, tried and grabbed the case.

  “Chiara!”

  She was crazy and beautiful. “Let me go!” she screamed.

  “Want to shoot me again?”

  She tried and hit him

  “Want to shoot me again?” he repeated.

  “No! Okay?”

  He grabbed his hand and pulled her close. “Alessandro” she muttered. Her voice sounded muffled, her gaze was full of clouds.

  He kissed her. She winced and opened her lips, welcoming his tongue; his hands slithered under her sweater and took it off, unveiling her silky bra. He moaned. She threw her head back and closed her eyes; he kissed her throat and took her bra off.

  Chiara grabbed his hair, pulled it angry. He tasted of coffee and smelled of old spice. Her lips slid on his neck and pull off his t-shirt, kissing him franticly. She didn’t want to think. Anger and passion mixed up; she wanted to be one with him. His hands pushed her against the wall.

  His heart was pounding; his gaze was full of flames; she was so hot under his fingers, as their breaths mixed up and he thought back to her holding the gun like an avenging angel. He closed his eyes, barely realizing that they were both naked. He sank his teeth on her shoulder and penetrated her violently; a sudden thought came to his mind: he had never felt his heart beating so fast. He cou
ldn’t fall in love with her.

  Chiara moved her pelvis and he picked up her face.

  “Chiara…”

  She closed her eyes and screamed out. He lifted her and took her on the bed.

  She just saw them, him and her. Nothing else mattered, nor Spisni, nor Ruggeri, nor the case. Just him on her, his sweaty wet skin; just his eyes on her, his lips kissing her body. He felt the same; she could read it in his eyes.

  How could she have fallen in love instantly? What if he had been…? What if she was wrong? His thrusts grew of intensity; she trembled as they reached the climax. “I love you,” she murmured and then they rolled up in bed.

  Chiara stared at him. Their anger had become passion; their legs were tangled, their fingers wove up, their tongues had duelled for long.

  He stroked her hip; just few minutes before, she was pointing him a gun for that damned case. He kissed her lips and she kissed him back.

  “Mmh”.

  She sat up, wondering if he had heard her last words. Though she wasn’t sure she had actually said them. Maybe she had just imagined it.

  “What’s up Chiara?”

  “I wasn’t up to make sex to you”

  “Well, you did. It just happened.”

  Chiara wanted the case. Was he going to sleep?

  “Maybe I should ride you to your hotel”.

  Fuck it, she thought. He seemed to read her mind.

  “You’re not opening that case, Chiara. Forget it!” She flared her nostrils out and started to dress. He brushed his fingers against the silky skin of her leg. She gritted her teeth, angry again; she wasn’t sure she could manage the whole business. Maybe he was manipulating her as he wished. The only thing she was positive of was that she wasn’t going to see the case content; he couldn’t either ask him.

  “I ride you to your hotel”.

  “I came with my car, you know.” She figured out her voice was trembling. She breathed deep, looking for the reason that made her shiver. Was that fear? Anger? What? He had dressed up and he was staring at her intensely; she lingered with her eyes on his hands. Those hands had caressed her and played with her breasts taking her to the pleasure.

  “I’m driving you. You’ll have your car back tomorrow morning!”

  “You don’t trust me.”

  “No, Chiara, I don’t. You pointed me a gun less than an hour ago! And let me say I don’t think you trust me.”

  Chiara sighed. He made her lose control; despite of that, she had a goal she couldn’t let go. She nodded and got into his car, observing the road and the vehicles around. He spent a lot of time looking for mismatching details; when he was sure he wasn’t going to find anything, he started the car and left the parking. They just watched in the mirrors for the whole distance.

  “Nobody is following us,” she said, breaking the silence. He nodded briefly.

  “I know”.

  “Then why are you checking anytime?”

  “I feel something”. He wasn’t sincere. Chiara knew he was holding something. She was moving on a faulty, unknown ground, a frail, subtle edge too easy to miss.

  He parked the car and she went out before he could say a word.

  “It’s not over, Ferrari!”

  He leaned toward her:

  “Trust me, Pilati. I know!”

  Chapter 21

  He winced out when she slammed the door. He waited till he saw her going through the door. After a bit, a light was coming from her window.

  He grabbed his phone and made a call:

  “Tom, we have a problem. A big one!”

  Chiara looked at the clock: 3 a.m. Yet, she couldn’t wait.

  “Sorry, Boss, I know it’s late. I need to see a reserved file. Yes. The name is Alessandro Ferrari”.

  She sighed. Was he really undercover? She knew how tenuous was the line between in and out, good and evil. Had he crossed it? She had to know where, how and why. He asked her trust; she couldn’t please him, not at all. She ran a hand on her own face: did she act well calling Ruggeri?

  Alessandro leaned out the window; he was still talking at the phone. He was up to go in when he saw the red tip of a cigarette and noticed the man leaning against the pole. He swore out and closed the window, faking tranquillity.

  “I know, Tom. But she knows too much. I told her Jamal’s an informant, didn’t know what else I could say. Don’t scream at me! It’s me risking my career, not you!”

  He was furious and worried, walking nervously back and forth; he turned off the lights, and went to the window: the man was still there.

  He wasn’t there when he gone out with Chiara. Nobody followed him. But now everything was complicated: the meeting was coming, and also the explosive must have come. He had not much time. He had to hurry up.

  Chiara went to the shower. At that point, she decided it wasn’t worth sleep for only two or three hours. She tied her sneakers, wearing a pair of light trousers. She walked directly to the house where she had seen Alessandro.

  Once she arrived, she saw a lot of people. She sighed and walked to the nearby bar, trying to ask questions. She froze at the counter; the girl who was entering in the bar was Amina: Carlo’s wife. She hurried to look down, on her cappuccino, and waited until Amina was gone. She didn’t believe in coincidences. She paid quickly and followed her. Amina stopped and greeted a couple of guys, getting closer to the house Chiara was inquiring about. Amina watched at the windows and put something inside the mailbox.

  Chiara bit her lip. She could grab the paper, but that would have meant not being able to tail Amina. She went and pulled it out. Unfortunately, Amina took the bus and, though Chiara ran and reached for her, she lost her trails and had to stop the stakeout.

  She looked at the clock: it was Saturday, that meant no conference. It was her day off. She walked to the hotel; as she reached her room, she gave the paper a glance. It was written in Arabic. She needed a translator; she drummed her fingers on the mattress, then she grabbed her phone.

  “Hi, Marco. I’m sending you a photo. You should use your super computer and your super brain to send me a translation as soon as possible.”

  She laughed, hearing his reply:

  “Chiara, you’re worst than your sister! The twins from hell!”

  “Yes, I know! But you love us anyway, because we’re nice and friendly!”

  “Yes, stop fawning over me! I’m already working for you. Call you as I’m done!”

  Chiara hung up the phone.

  A half hour later, her phone rang. She grabbed it, expecting for Marco’s voice. Indeed, she found someone else:

  “Are you free tonight? I’m on call until 2:00 p.m. I’d like to take you to dinner, tonight!”

  Chiara would have said “no” at any other time for several reasons: Alessandro was the first one. But Amina was his ex-wife, and if she was connected, he could be too. How what about if she was wrong? Maybe Carlo was the mole, and Alessandro the one hunting it… she accepted his invitation trying to keep a neutral voice.

  “Hello? Hi, Mia! Yes, it’s all right! What about you?” She smiled, sitting down on the bench and turning the TV off. A light chatter with her twin could be a cure for her worries. It could clear up her mind and her heart, keeping Alessandro’s memories away

  She didn’t want to wonder where he was, what he was doing and with whom. She decided to get out; she approached the reception desk: no messages. Then, she walked out. She needed air.

  She paused to observe a woman with her grandchild: they walked hand in hand. They were joking. She looked at the child’s golden locks, at her little hand and her confident gaze. The lady smiled.

  It was a simple scene, sincere, a scene of daily life. Chiara thought of her mother. Since his father had died in a mission, her mother had stopped smiling. She was too lost in her concerns and fears; growing up two daughters could be very hard. Otherwise, her sister and she had both decided to join a law enforcement agency; while she had chosen the Police, Mia had joined the Arma and beca
me a Carabiniere. It was a shock for their mother; her husband died serving the State. But that was the way her sister and she had been grown up.

  Mia had always been more introverted. Her mother had affected her with her anxious behaviour, and she had manifested closure and rebellion since she was very young: she used to repeat she felt a black sheep. Now, Chiara was lonely. Here, that was the right word. Working undercover was a thorny job. She never could be herself with anyone. There was no full light: it was a continuous play of light and shadow.

  She looked down. Ruggeri was calling her.

  “Good morning, boss!”

  “Good morning a damn, Pilati! The conference is approaching! Interpol is breathing down my neck! Reports of attacks are more and more precise, and you don’t have any news yet!”

  “I know! I’m working on it, though it’s hard. I got some clues, but no evidence! I have nothing concrete! How could I ruin a colleague’s life and career without evidence?”

  He sighed. She raised her eyes, looking at the clear sky; around her, people walked quietly: everything was all right. Despite of that, a threat loomed over all of them. Chiara felt her shoulders heavy, and her heart caught in harness.

  Chapter 22

  She winced when her phone rang, then she smiled:

  “Hi, Carlo! Tell me!”

  “I’m picking you up at 7.30. I chose a very nice restaurant. Amina works there. Just saying, you know, we could met and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea; it’s just one of the best restaurants I know. Then… I don’t want a misunderstand, about jealousy or suchlike.”

  She interrupted him:

  “Don’t worry.”

  She smiled, hearing his snuffle:

  “Thank God, you are so sweet. A woman to marry.”

  Chiara laughed:

  “Ok, Carlo. Stop it. See you later!”

  She had just returned to the hotel, when she was a flashing on the laptop; she clicked and opened Marco’s email:

  “Call me. I can’t write.”

  A long shiver of concern wrapped her; she grabbed the phone:

  “Marco.”

  “The message seems harmless, Chiara. It’s just an invitation to a meeting between countrymen in a living room. Anyway, I switched it to a trusted friend from counterterrorism; he confirmed that it could hide coded messages, to meet and draw up plans of attack!”