Carter turned on the faucet and brought a handful of water to his mouth before splashing another onto his face. His head was whirling, and his mind raced back over the course of the day, feverishly searching for some clue to what might have brought this on. He tried to get a grip on himself as he thought back, piecing together the events of the past twenty-four hours.

Carter’s flight from Boston had departed right on time. With its connecting flight in Milan, it was an uneventful, wearisome twelve-hour journey to Rome. Carter had passed the early part of the trip by reading a rugby magazine, and later he listened to some music on his iPod. When darkness came and the captain dimmed the cabin lights, he closed his eyes to get some rest, but sleep would not come, and he had found himself simply staring out the window into the black sky. Finally, just before the plane flew into the new dawn, he managed to nod off into a fitful sleep for a short while. Soon after, though, some brief turbulence awoke him with a start, and Carter slept no more the rest of the way.

It was midafternoon by the time Carter finally arrived in Rome, cleared customs, and walked bleary-eyed out of the airport to find a taxi to take him to his hotel.The ride into the city proved to be the most stimulating part of the day. No sooner had Carter installed himself in the backseat when the driver abruptly pulled away from the terminal and sped off down the highway with alarming speed. As the driver wove his way through the traffic into the city proper, Carter had the distinct impression that he must have inadvertently bungled his way into a taxicab being used to film a chase scene for a James Bond movie. He clutched his duffel bag and held on for dear life until the car pulled up at his hotel. Grateful that he had made it there in one piece, he practically jumped out of the car when it came to a stop. He paid the driver, and trudged inside to the front desk.