The Medici Dagger

She was sitting upright on a puffy satin couch, looking much as she had when I woke her up in the Fiat, only groggier. A wide-shouldered man I presumed to be Pendelton towered over Ginny with his back to me.

She spotted me through glassy eyes.“Reb,” she mouthed. Mobright kicked the door, either on purpose or because he was a klutz. Pendelton turned at the sound. He didn’t pull a gun, for which I was grateful. I patted down Mobright for his and maybe mine. Nothing but a small spray bottle.

“Anything left in there?” I asked.

He looked at me pleadingly. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right,” I replied, then double-dosed him. “Sweet dreams and a peach, Mobright.”

nine

Idouble-dosed Pendelton, and Beckett, too. That gave us maybe four hours to do whatever we were going to do before Gibraltar was back on the snoop. I was confused and pissed, but at least I was in control. I had no idea where we were, but if Beckett was telling the truth, then we had to be in some sort of official building with other Gibraltar agents around, so I stripped Pendelton and put on his clothes to increase our chances of blending in.

Ginny was semi-anesthetized and couldn’t have cared less about clothes; she was still trying to figure out why we weren’t jogging. I got her to do some deep breathing, which seemed to clear her head some. Then I ran my knuckles up and down her spine and massaged her shoulders like she was the champ. This recharged her enough to prevent her from bumping into things while we were escaping.

When Ginny asked what was going on, I instructed her to just do what I said and everything would be all right. For once she put up no argument.

Before we left the room, I inspected the closet. Beckett’s raincoat and hat were in there, all right. I slipped the coat on Ginny and with our chins down, we entered the hall. We appeared to be in a hotel after all, and made our way down two flights of stairs, passing half a dozen people, none of whom seemed interested in us.

By the time we made it out to the street, adrenaline had replaced most of the evil stuff in Ginny’s system, and her eyes were clear andpurposeful. We quickly melted into the throng of Milanese and tourists on the sidewalk.

“All right,” Ginny barked, “what the hell wasthatabout?”

She’s back.“Check where we are,” I said. “Can we walk back to the hotel or do we need to get a cab?”

She regarded the street sign. “It’s two streets over. That way.”

I took her by the elbow. “Let’s go.”

“Hey, give me a second, will you? I’m dizzy.”

“Sorry,” I said, slowing down a bit.

“Who were those people?”

“Gibraltar,” I said.

“Gibraltar? That’s a rock . . . and a mutual fund.”

The lunch crowd provided us great cover.“It’s also some kind of government intelligence agency,” I said, “unless Beckett is an amazing liar. I don’t know. I’ve never heard of Gibraltar. How can we be sure they’re not working for Krell? And how’d they track us to Milan. Is Tecci here?”

“Who’s Beckett?” Ginny asked, way behind me.

“The top dog. I knocked him out with a tasty uppercut.”

Ginny stopped dead in her tracks. “You socked a government intelligence agent?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. An international one, actually.”

I tugged on her like a Central Park pony. She stumbled forward, staring at me. “And by the way,” I added, “nobody says ‘sock’ anymore. Not since poodle skirts went out.”

“Who cares?” she said. “The government will protect us from Krell. Governments protect people.”

“No they don’t. And besides, he called me homespun! The smug son of a bitch.”

“So, naturally, you socked him.”

“And drugged him. Mobright and his buddy, too.”

Ginny looked at me as though I had committed a grievous error. A tour bus honked loudly as it maneuvered toward us through the heavy traffic.

I shrugged. “Listen, I’m improvising, all right?”

We passed a busy fruit stand where a lady called out,“Mele, ciliegie, banane!”The deep red cherries caught my eye.

In my peripheral vision I spotted two grim-faced guys in wraparound shades, charging up the street, coats open.

Damn!

“I’m really sorry,” I said to Ginny, shoving her hard into a group of people, knocking over the stand, sending fruit flying. I whistled loudly at the two guys, waving at them with my other hand.

The bus was thirty feet from me. I dashed into the street right in front. The driver went wide-eyed, honked his air horn, and tromped on the brakes just as I dove under, watching the squealing tires to see if they were going straight or fishtailing. If they fishtailed I was dead. They stayed straight.

I heard screams from the crowd as the bus passed over me, stopping while I was still under it. The floor above