by Sharon Timm
They finished the palace tour and walked for miles along the picturesque canals. They rode one of the cartoon water-buses around its entire route, then stopped for an ice cream snack. They sat together on the steps of an ancient church and watched the gondolas go by as the sun set behind them, over the mainland. The gondoliers filled the evening with rich opera songs for their tourist passengers. Sam imagined herself in a gondola, but shook her head, got to her feet and dragged Doug down an alley in search of something to eat.
For supper they crowded into a tiny restaurant booth and split a fabulous, four seasons pizza, divided into quarters, and heaped with ham, artichokes, peppers and cheese. The pizza's aroma blended with the rich smell of cappuccino, and other sumptuous smells from the kitchen of the restaurant. Drooping over the rim of the large plate, the pizza was a banquet in itself. It was huge. It was delicious.
Sam thought about the day she had spent with Doug. They had acted like tourists and talked about a wide variety of things. She was relieved that Luca had not come back up in conversation and a little surprised that they hadn't talked about the ship at all.
Several hours later they found their way back to Sam's hotel. For the first time in a long, long while, Sam had actually relaxed. It felt good. Unfortunately, the feeling would not last very long.
She said goodbye to Doug at the door to the hotel. He was meeting some friends from the ship and she had no interest in going. She had not slept well the night before, and found herself blissfully drained, almost like she felt after having cried a long time. She looked forward to a hot shower, and a long dreamless sleep.
When she approached the door to room seventeen, splinters of wood on the floor caught her eye. She noticed that her door was open and the jamb was split and badly damaged. The door was not shut. She pushed the door gently and peered into the room.
It was in shambles. Her drawers were open and the contents strewn around the room. Clothes from the closet were heaped on the floor. The mattress had been lifted and set back carelessly. A corner hung down off the bed frame. The sheets and blankets were on the floor. On the bed was a note stuck to the pillow with a long, thin switchblade knife.
Sam backed carefully out of the room. She looked carefully up and down the hallway before walking calmly to the front desk. "I need the number to the police," she said.
"Is there an emergency?"
Sam nodded and the man at the desk turned the courtesy phone to face her. "Pronto Intervento, our emergency line, is centododici, one-one-two."
She dialed the phone buzzed twice and a voice at the other end answered in rapid Italian.
"Luca Danieli, please. This is Samantha Logan at the hotel."
"Chi scusa?"
Sam repeated her message slowly. There was a pause while the officer searched for Luca. She heard voices in the background, then footsteps. Luca's voice was on the line, "Hello. Chief Logan?"
"Luca, this is Sam, Samantha. I'm at my hotel. Someone broke into my room, there is a note on the pillow, and...and a knife."
"Keep the hotel personnel away from the room. Tell them to touch nothing. I will be right there," he said and the line went silent.
A group of hotel employees had gathered around her. The man at the desk began to ask questions. Sam gestured for them to wait. Luca was on his way. Luca would take care of everything. She collapsed into a comfortable chair against the wall in the corner, facing the door. Like a cornered, frightened animal she cowered there, watching the door, watching people's faces, watching for Luca.
The glass doors were pushed aside by a group of men in blue uniforms. They entered the hotel and spread out to sweep the area, checking the lobby, the dining area and the courtyard. A chill ran up Samantha's spine, she hadn't considered that the person who ransacked her room could still be in the hotel.
Luca entered and crossed the room. She leapt from the chair and fell into his arms like a child who has had a bad dream. He pressed her to his chest with his strong arms and whispered to her. "It’s going to be fine. I will take care of everything. Now, Sam, show me your room." She took his arm and clung to it as they went down the corridor to her room.
One of Luca's men began photographing the room. When he had taken pictures of the note, Luca removed the long stiletto that pierced the page and slipped it into a plastic bag. He picked up the paper between gloved fingers and read the note out loud. "Americana Via. Torna sulla Nave."
"What does it mean Luca?"
He placed the note in a bag. "American woman go away. Return to your ship."
"Or what?" she asked.
Luca held the bag with the knife up for her to see. "I think this was left to answer that question."
Sam stared at long thin blade. "Maybe I should go back to the ship like the note says." she mumbled. She was still floating. She was there but almost as a spectator not as a participant. She realized she was in shock. She felt violated. Her things had been ransacked. Her life had been threatened. She wondered how this tied into the events of the day before. She knew this couldn't be coincidental. "Maybe I should just go home to my ship."
Luca squeezed her shoulder gently. "I think it would be a good idea, Sam."
She noticed that he had begun to call her Sam. There was not a lot of time for analysis, but she was vaguely aware that she didn't mind. She liked how he said her name. Luca pointed at his men one by one and barked orders to each in turn. They nodded and returned to work. Luca reached into his belt at his lower back and removed a small semi-automatic pistol. He pointed it in a safe direction, press checked the chamber to ensure that it was ready for action then turned to Sam. "Ready?" he asked.
He grasped her by the elbow and steered her to the door.
CHAPTER SIX
In the corridor of the hotel they were met by a man in an elegant suit. Luca spoke rapidly and unintelligibly, then the man turned and led them down the corridor away from the lobby. As they rushed through the labyrinth of the ancient hotel's corridors, Luca made hasty introductions. "Sam, this is my cousin, Vittorio. He manages the hotel. Vittorio, this is Chief Petty Officer, Independent Duty Corpsman, and part time dentist, Samantha Logan."
"Piacere," Vittorio said over his shoulder as he led them through a service closet and into the kitchen.
"I'm pleased to meet you," Sam said shaking her head. This was so surreal. This whole port visit was a nightmare.
Vittorio opened a door and they were enveloped in darkness. They paused to let their eyes grow accustomed to the low light. Sam found herself on the delivery dock of a canal at the rear of the hotel. A bare bulb was visible over the door but it was burned out or turned off. A narrow walkway hugged the back wall of the hotel suspended several feet above the water. Luca led her quickly along the narrow path. Vittorio wished them luck and retreated inside the hotel.
Luca pulled her at a furious pace through the small alleys and over tiny bridges. They avoided the main streets and busy canals.
Luca flashed his ID to a guard at a military gate. The guard, an Italian sailor, opened it and they slipped into the safety of the Navy base.
Once inside Luca slowed down. Sam walked beside him breathing heavily. "Why are we sneaking around like this, Luca?" she asked. "They want me to go back to the ship, fine. I'm going back to the ship. I won't come back to Venice. Why all the caution?"
Luca walked on. Something appeared to be bothering him. He turned to answer her, but stopped, shook his head and kept walking.
"What is it, Luca? What's wrong?"
"This case is getting...well...complicated." he answered.
"The mystery patient has disappeared. Just before you called I was visited by a Colonel in our intelligence service. Apparently the man was a very important agent. He couldn't give me any details but there is some confusion about which side he was on. The man who attacked him is a small time criminal but it looks like he was working for another agency. What the agent was carrying in the bag had something to do with weapons smuggling into Bosnia. That i
s all he could tell me." Luca stopped and turned to face Sam. "Then, you called. This is all tied into something much bigger than either of us. What is important now is to get you safely back to your ship."
Luca began walking again. Sam sensed that he had not told her everything. She tugged on his sleeve and turned him around. "You're holding something back, Luca." she said. "Tell me what it is."
Luca stopped and studied her for a moment, as if debating whether or not to say more. He shrugged and looked away. "At the hotel, did you notice that I came in after my men?"
Sam nodded.
"I was actually the first one to arrive, but I stood in the alley across from the hotel and watched my men approach." He paused and rubbed his eyebrows between his thumb and forefinger. "They were being followed."
"Who?" Sam asked. "Who was following them?"
Luca shrugged. "I think we lost them coming out the back way, but just in case, I'm taking you the roundabout way."
"Who would be following the police around?"
"Cara Samantha," he said softly. "I am not sure I know."
They emerged from another gate in the Navy base perimeter and slipped covertly over a wooden bridge and onto a wide cobblestone street. At the end of the block, Luca pressed himself against the doorway of the Naval Museum and looked down the quay toward the fleet landing.
He pointed out the two Shore Patrolmen who were standing there. A boat from the ship was approaching the landing. In minutes she would be safely on board, returning to the ship, her work, and her life.
Luca stepped away from the building. Sam followed. Suddenly he pushed her back out of sight. He grabbed her arms, turned her around and hurled her into a sprint back toward the Navy Base. Sam stumbled. Luca's hand was a vice on her arm. He caught her fall and propelled her on. Looking back she saw nothing but an empty street, a calm, quiet canal and two lovers kissing on the bridge.
Luca pulled her through the gate and the sentry closed it behind them. They hid behind some mooring buoys on a pier.
Sam's heart was pounding. Her breath came in ragged gasps. She forced herself to breathe deeply and quietly.
A man in a dark overcoat emerged from behind the museum building and calmly down the street toward the gate. Luca pointed at the man and raised his finger to his lips. Sam nodded and watched as the man approached. He walked nonchalantly toward them. To the casual observer he was just a man on an evening stroll. To a person being followed, though, subtle signs were visible. His eyes were always moving. He made long sweeping glances which covered every inch of the road, buildings and bridges. They were casual enough, but Sam could tell he was looking for something. She gulped in a long breath and froze. He was looking for her!
She reached out for Luca. Her hand was trembling. Luca whispered in her ear. "There were three of them waiting for you at the landing".
Sam closed her eyes. The fact that she was in danger seemed unreal. Somehow it mattered very little as long as she was with Luca. She was still feeling a tingling sensation from his warm breath against her ear. Luca's hand closed over her trembling, smaller one. She knew he would keep her safe. Somehow.
He led her away from the gate and around the compound toward the gate on the far side of the base. Staying close to the buildings, and moving from shadow to shadow, Sam followed Luca. They paused when they got to the other gate.
The sentry challenged them as they approached. Luca flashed an ID and the sentry spoke to Luca softly in Italian. He obviously sensed something was wrong. Luca searched his pockets for something. He turned to Sam, "Do you have something to write on?" he asked.
Sam dug in her pocket and handed him the receipt from the pizza she and Doug had shared for supper. He wrote on it quickly folded it twice and handed it to the sentry.
The sentry opened the gate and they slipped out into the night.
They circled through the narrow alleys and across obscure bridges over black canals. Sam followed Luca's lead, matching his frantic pace.
"Where are we going?"
"We need to get back to the hotel," Luca said, "then, I will think of something."
Shadows detached themselves from the doorway of a building ahead and became men walking toward them. Luca whirled and slipped one arm around Sam's shoulder. He spun her around, pulling her close to him and pressing her face against his chest. "Pretend we're lovers," he whispered.
Sam fought the urge to break his nose. She heard the footsteps approaching and realized that Luca was sheltering her from the view of the approaching men. She slipped a hand around his waist and felt Luca's other hand on the cold steel of his pistol in the small of his back. Her heart was pounding again. She could hear Luca's heart thumping beneath her ear. His breaths were short and fast. Sam's knee began to shake.
The men drew near and Luca pressed Sam into the wall and shielded her with his body. He was tense. The two businessmen walked by speaking casually in English about marketing.
Sam shoved Luca away.
He didn't apologize. He just turned and kept walking through the dark canyons of the ancient buildings with their cramped alleys and bridges and canals. They approached the hotel from the opposite direction they had taken before. Sam noticed the single light over the door. It was still out.
Luca stopped, pressed them both against the darkened doorway walls looked carefully around. Satisfied they had not been followed, he crossed the dock, leaned out over the water and tugged on a mooring line. A wide, sturdy work boat bumped against the dock. He lifted the tarp and motioned for Sam to climb inside and hide. Moments later, she was enveloped in silence and darkness.
She listened as Luca's footsteps departed, then the bumping and creaking she had heard that morning was the only sound. She realized it was the sound of boats, straining against their moorings and bumping against the sturdy poles, driven deep into the bottom of the lagoon to hold the boats in place.
A door opened and closed. Footsteps returned. Sam froze. Was it Luca? she wondered. Her question was answered as Luca pulled the tarp off the boat, folded it once and draped it over Sam. Vittorio was with him.
Luca's cousin started the small diesel engine on the boat. It made a gentle putt-putt-putt sound. Luca untied the mooring lines and huddled under the tarp with Sam. Vittorio stood in the rear of the boat and steered with a hand held rudder. The boat sliced quietly through the gentle waters of the Venetian lagoon.
"Where are we going?" Sam asked.
"I'm taking you home with me." Luca said.
"What?" Sam exclaimed sitting upright and pushing the canopy up with her head.
Luca pulled her down forcefully. "We don't have time for this. People are trying to kill you. Stay down and do what I say!"
Sam huddled under a canvas tarp as the small boat putt-putt-putted across the calm waves. She sensed how close she was to Luca. She realized again how deeply she detested this man. He had no problem barking orders at her. He wouldn't hesitate to force her to comply with his will. He treated her like an unruly child and as though to match his expectations, she acted like one.
A pain in her thigh brought her mind back to her present situation. She was crouching uncomfortably her neck was straining, her left knee was jammed under the gunwale of the boat and her thigh was beginning to cramp. She shifted her weight and lay down on her side in the bottom of the boat. She pressed her shoulders against Luca's chest and felt his breath against her neck. She felt his thigh move against hers. He was so warm. She rested her head against her arm and had just made herself comfortable when the engine slowed and the boat rocked.
Vittorio eased the boat against a dock. Luca jumped up and helped Sam onto the pier. They didn't say a word. Vittorio turned the boat and headed back to the breathtaking city of lights that reflected off the mirror of the black lagoon. Luca took Sam's hand and began to drag her away from the dock. She wrenched her hand away and followed him silently. There were times when his physical presence overwhelmed her. His masculinity and sensual power made her feel things s
he didn't want to feel. When he wasn't touching her, or breathing on her neck, or holding her hand, or kissing her hand for that matter, he was pushing and shoving and dragging her along. She saw him clearly for the obstinate, egotistical control freak that he was.
Sam trudged along behind Luca up a rocky path toward some lights. They approached an Alfa-Romeo police car. Two officers with sub-machine guns stood by the car. Luca spoke to the men who snapped to attention. One of them opened the back door for Samantha. Luca opened the door on the other side and slid in next to Sam. The two officers got in the car and drove along a winding dirt road which intersected a two lane highway. The driver slowed, then gunned the engine and sped up the highway while the second officer and Luca kept turning their heads looking behind them to see if they were being followed.
After nearly an hour, they turned off onto a smaller road and climbed into the rolling black hills. "Where are we?" Sam asked.
"Just outside of Monfalcone," he said, "about seven miles from Trieste."
"I need to let the ship know where I am," Sam commented.
"I already did," Luca said.
"When?"
"When I wrote the note and gave it to the sentry at the Naval Base. The senior Chief of the base is an old friend of mine. We went to school together. He joined the Navy, I joined the Carabinieri. I told him I was bringing you here until things cool down a bit. I asked him to pass it on to your Captain via the Admiralty."
Sam was grateful to him, yet more than a little perturbed. This man did not consult anyone! He just did things. He never asked her what she thought. She was just a child that he had to take care of. He had probably just saved her life but her pride made it hard to show gratitude. She wanted to fight with him, it seemed. Every time they stood face to face. She wanted to punch him in the mouth. Yet, every time he touched her, she melted into a pool of warmth.
The car slowed and turned onto a gravel road between the shadows of two spectacular stone columns, gateposts that supported two large, wrought iron gates. The driveway was very long. It wound around the base of a hill and climbed to its summit. Perched on top was a huge house, almost a castle, surrounded by other buildings. The main house was illuminated by three bright lights on poles which lined the driveway. The other buildings had lights which scattered across random windows. The largest building, in the background, squatted in the shadows of the main house.