Dante called the group to order. “I will speak in English,” he said, “since you are all conversant in the language.” He clicked a remote control, and a photograph of the Casselli house appeared on the screen. Clearly taken from the air, it showed everything from the roof down past the Amalfi drive to the sea. “This is our target,” Dante said. He pressed a button and the camera zoomed in and moved up, until they had a bird’s-eye view.

“Here,” he said, pointing to the rear deck, “is a platform marked on the plans as a helicopter landing pad. We had originally intended to set down a troop-carrying naval chopper there with twenty-five men aboard. However, we are cursed with winds forecast for tonight of more than thirty knots, and there is so little room for error that we have decided to bus in our backup to the village square in Ravello. Our troops will then walk about a kilometer down this narrow path, which ends at the chopper platform. It will be dark, the path is narrow, with only a rope handrail for safety, and the drop to the bottom is steep, ranging between fifty and one hundred meters, so they must use their flashlights and be very careful. It will be slow going. The path widens as it approaches the deck. Four men will be assigned to rush the deck and take any security people who might be stationed there. They will be carrying silenced weapons.

“Now, the other point of entry: from the Amalfi drive at the front of the house.” The image on the screen moved and the camera descended to the road. “Behind this high hedge is the entrance to the elevator, which is large, three by three meters. This will certainly be guarded, and it is likely that all guests will be searched or wanded for weapons. Around a curve a hundred meters away we will have twenty-five more men in a bus.”