Mike shrugged. “I want to be there.”
“Very good. Let’s go.”
They stood and moved to the elevators. The lower lighting matched the late evening aura perfectly.
Alice pressed the up button and when the elevator arrived, she pressed the button for the twenty-eighth floor.
“I thought they were on twenty-nine,” Mike said.
Alice nodded. “Quite correct.”
When the doors opened on the twenty-eighth floor, a Vatican security man stood with his hands clasped together. The man was enormous. He wore a navy blazer over a black turtleneck sweater. His square jaw and close-cropped hair made him look even more foreboding. He pressed a finger to his earpiece and looked at them as they stepped off.
“Sister Jacobine, a moment please.” His Italian accent was not as heavy as Buscaglia’s or the Pope’s.
“What is it, Vincenzo?” Alice asked.
“Just getting confirmation.” Vincenzo pressed his fingers to the earpiece again. “Capsico.” He nodded quickly to Alice and stepped over to the stairwell door and pushed it open. “Fifteen minutes, then the surveillance cameras will be back online.”
Alice checked her watch. “Fifteen minutes may not be enough.”
He shrugged. “All we could get.”
“Very well.” Alice moved into the stairwell.
Mike moved to follow her. Vincenzo pressed a meaty hand into Michael’s chest. “Just Jacobine.”
“I’ll be back in short order, Michael.”
“That wasn’t the deal,” Mike said.
“It always has been.” She rounded the corner on the stairs and moved out of his sight.
“C’mon, Jacs!” she heard him say, sotto voce.
She hated leaving him behind. She had hated stringing him along, but it was for his own good.
She moved silently up the stairs. The low lighting of the late evening did not extend to the stairwell. Bright light glared off the light grey paint of the concrete walls.
At the door to the twenty-ninth floor, she peered through the small glass window into the hallway.
Empty.
She eased the door open. The light in the hallway was dimmer than the stairwell. It took her eyes a second to adjust, then she slipped through the door. She reached into her handbag and lifted out the suppressed Tanfoglio. She set her handbag on the floor next to the stairwell door.
Room 2907 was her first destination. Two of Buscaglia’s enforcers had been scheduled by His Holiness for duty early in the morning. By now, they should be soundly asleep.
She kept the Tanfoglio down by her side as she trotted down the hallway. Unfortunately, room 2907 was at the far end of the floor. She kept her gaze on the window at the end of the hall. She’d see anyone who stepped into the hallway. Anyone who did step out of their room or off the elevator at the far end would have to be eliminated. She could leave no witnesses.
She slowed to a stop outside 2907 and listened for activity in the room. No sound issued. No television, or the volume was very low. Alice slipped the pass card the Pope had given her from the pocket of her pants and slid it quietly into the slot above the door handle.
This was the crucial part--getting into the room undetected. Hotel doors, even hotels so grand and opulent as the Ritz-Carlton, were notorious for making noise. The latches clacked loudly, especially as they closed. If there was something within reach just inside the door, she would use it to keep the door from latching when it swung closed.
The light for the lock glowed green. She pressed the handle down and eased the door inward, her gaze locked on where the flip-over latch would be. It was not engaged. She could still have gained entry if it had been, but it was a rather more involved operation.
She opened the door only wide enough to slip into the room. There were no lights on inside. She didn’t want the light from the hallway to alert the men in the beds. She spared a quick look at the men. Both seemed to be asleep.
She scanned the floor quickly. A pair of shoes sat just the other side of the bathroom opening. She stretched and snagged a shoe with her foot and dragged it to the door. She jammed the shoe between the door and the frame. No light from the hallway would betray her entrance and now the shoe was in place, no clack from the latch would give her away, either.
She brought the Tanfoglio up and eased deeper into the room. The first one to go would be the closest. The loud pop from the suppressor in the small space of the room would alert whichever one she did not shoot. Best to have that man farthest from the door.
As she stepped close to the first bed, the man in the second bed snorted and sat up with a jolt.
She pivoted and popped two shots off, hitting him in the chest with both. The shots slammed him down to the bed and off the far edge.
The man in the first bed jumped as the first shot went off. After the second, he jolted fully awake. His gaze went to the Tanfoglio in her hand, still pointed at the bed of his roommate.
His eyes went wide and he scrambled out of the bed as she pivoted toward him. He ducked to the floor on the far side of the mattress and scrambled to the end of the bed.
Alice moved to the end of the bed to cut him off.
He dashed for the door, wearing nothing but his underwear. He skidded to a stop and yanked the door open.
She popped off a shot but only hit him in the shoulder. His frenetic motion throwing off her aim.
The impact of the shot threw off his step and he stumbled out into the hallway, turning left.
Alice charged after him. She heard him running as she rushed out into the hallway.
He was already three doors down as she dropped to a
