The meeting breaks up. Sergio and Alana follow the soldiers to a room full of biohazard equipment. They suit up in complete silence. Alana’s mouth goes dry when Sergio passes her the same Beretta handgun he gave to her during the raid on the bomb makers’ hideout. It feels heavier in her hand.

The team assembles on deck and then breaks off into two groups. Six men head for one of the awaiting assault helicopters whose rotors are spinning slowly. Monti beckons Alana and Sergio over to join him in the second helicopter.

As soon as the doors close, their chopper takes off with a jerk. The staccato of the beating blade fills the otherwise tense silence in the cabin. This time the butterflies filling Alana’s stomach are not from motion sickness.

Fifteen minutes later, the coastline of northern Egypt comes into focus. A city emerges ahead of them. As the choppers fly lower, she can see that the harbor below is crowded with cargo ships. They descend steadily, until a freighter that matches the one shown in the briefing comes into view. Alana’s breathing picks up when she sees the Italian flag. She squints to read the markings on the side: Cielo di Asia.

The pilot slows the aircraft down to a near-standstill. Alana cranes her neck to watch the other chopper drop down and hover twenty feet or so above the ship’s deck. Its door opens and a rope drops to the deck. Moments later, the first soldier, with his rifle strapped to his back, rappels down the line and lands on the deck in a defensive crouch.

As the others follow, the soldiers on her aircraft stand and shuffle toward the door. Alana tucks her gun into the back of her waistband and rises to join them, her heart in her throat.

Chapter

Sixty-Two

Stefano hears more thumping overhead, and he wills the trembling out of his fingers. Everything is wrong, and has been since the moment he saw his own image on that website and bolted from the computer room without bothering to email Don Arturo. They had stripped Stefano of his one gift: his anonymity.

He is surprised he hasn’t already been caught. Yesterday, the ship’s security officer checked his room looking for his missing roommate. Stefano hardly breathed during the brief inspection. But the officer never thought to move the stack of clothes, blankets, and pillows in the closet, behind which Stefano had stuffed his diminutive roommate along with the knapsack full of rats.

The thuds grow louder. They are coming for him. He has been certain of it even before they reached Port Said, even before the captain announced on the speakers that all shore leaves were canceled until further notice.

God is also refusing him leniency. “Carry my creatures ashore!” The voice of the Almighty commanded just after they laid anchor.

But how, O Lord?

“Hide them!”

I cannot access the containers. I have tried. They are too securely locked and bolted.