Private Rome

Chapter 38

After crossing a city block over the rooftops, I found a safe place to climb down: a fire escape on Via Alfredo Cappellini. I jogged toward Termini station, went through the busy concourse and hurried east to Via Marsala on the other side of the grand terminus, where I caught a cab.

There was no sign of Milan or his people, but I sat low in the back and obscured my face with my hand until we were out of Esquilino. I was grateful to put the run-down neighborhood behind me, and if the cab driver thought there was anything unusual about my behavior, he didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. People didn’t work poorer neighborhoods like Esquilino without learning to take the rough with the smooth.

I instructed the driver to head to Ostia. We passed through the heart of Rome before reaching the colorful coastal neighborhood a little over an hour later. I asked the driver to drop me a couple blocks from the cell-phone store, and after checking I hadn’t been followed, I hurried into the apartment where I showered and changed into a dark gray suit of lightweight cotton. I wore it with a white shirt, open at the collar.

Once I’d washed off the sweat and grime from my encounter with Milan Verde and his people, I called Justine.

She answered immediately, her face filling my phone screen.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Was she really that perceptive?

“Nothing. Why?” I tried, chancing my luck.

“I know where you were going, and you’ve just cleaned yourself up, which means you probably ran into trouble,” she replied.

Never try to outfox a profiler.

“It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle.”

“I don’t like the thought of you being out there alone. I want to come to Rome. Mo-bot and Sci too,” Justine said. “You need an experienced team around you. You shouldn’t be facing this alone.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, but you all have work to do in LA and I’m okay,” I replied. “I really am. You’re giving me everything I need from there. You’re reacting to perceived danger, but I’m fine.”

“Don’t try to psych me, Jack Morgan,” she replied. “You’d be more effective with us at your side.”

Justine was probably right. I would benefit from having my team around me, and I wanted to be with her, to feel her in my arms... but Private was already devoting resources in the form of my time and energy to this unexpected situation. I didn’t want to divert more unless absolutely necessary.

“Let’s see how things go,” I suggested.

“Okay,” she conceded.

“Milan Verde is definitely the leader of the Dark Fates,” I revealed. “He reacted super aggressively when I remarked on the Jerusalem Cross tattoo. Can you ask Mo-bot to focus on that image? See if she can find out anything about its meaning.”

“Sure,” Justine responded.

“I’ll call you later. I’ve got a meeting with a priest and don’t want to be late.”

“A priest?”

“Yeah. I’ll explain tonight, I promise. Love you,” I said.

“Love you too,” she replied with more than a hint of resignation in her voice. I knew she wanted us to be together. I did too.

I ended the call, grabbed my wallet, phone and keys, and left the apartment to meet Father Carlos, the mysterious priest who had accosted me earlier.