Military Airport (Rome, Italy)

We landed in Rome. We went down the plane's stairs, our faces cold and tense. Everyone, no matter the intelligence agency they belonged to, felt strung out. We were headed to a meeting with the cardinal Piccolo De Angelo, Camerlengo and the Pope's right-hand man. He was also my infuriating brother-in-law and, unfortunately, the only person that understood the ancient language that would lead us to the Duke. As we reached the hangar, the unnerving image of the hate-filled face of the teenager that had accompanied the Duke in the submarine still floated in my head.

The Inspector General of the Vatican's police force, Pascolo Di Montesino, was waiting for us in the hangar. As luck would have it, I knew the man very well.

"Do you have the device ready?" I asked Charles. "Yes, sir."

"Good."

***