A squeaking noise comes from the other room. They always seem to know when it’s dinnertime. Best not to leave them too long without food. As intelligent and social as they are, eventually, if hungry enough, they will devour the youngest and the weakest of the mischief.

He heads back into the bedroom and reaches for the large carrying case under the bed. The bag stirs in his hand. The squeaking intensifies. He feels a pang of guilt as he unzips the bag, but he forces himself to banish the doubt.

He has never had a pet of his own, but the case reminds him of the rat cage he used to see in the window of a local pet store. He sprinkles pellets of food among the seething gray forms. He watches them eat for a while, and then smooths the bedcovers before sitting down to watch the local news.

“Authorities are not saying whether the raid on the terrorists’ lair is connected to the outbreak of the plague. However, the World Health Organization is looking for one Yasin Ahmed.” Despite the anchorwoman’s somber tone and expression, she wears an immodestly low-cut sleeveless blouse and bright red lipstick that only flaunt her sexuality. “The authorities are saying only that Ahmed is a potential victim of the plague. He was born in Genoa but is of Tunisian descent.” Her words drip with implication. “Officials will not confirm or deny any possible links to terrorism.”

“Where do they get such information?” he asks the rats. But the creatures are too busy feeding to pay any attention.

The anchorwoman moves on to other plague-related news, describing new cases and recent deaths. It pains him to consider all the suffering. The doubt creeps over him again like a chill.

If there were any other way . . .

But there is none, he reminds himself. He has been chosen. To doubt is to blaspheme.

Despite the regret, he also feels satisfaction. After all, a foothold has been established. The first step of the mission is complete.

He glances down at his rats. Cacio squeezes past Grappino and sidles predatorily up to Fresca, the plumpest female. Cacio pauses to look up at him, poking his long snout upward. His whiskers twitch as he sniffs the air. He is not the biggest of the nine remaining rats, but he is clearly the alpha male.

“You never doubt, do you, my friend?” he asks the black rat.

Cacio only stares back with those dark fearless eyes.

At the sound of a man’s voice, he turns his attention back to the TV. A male reporter appears in front of a hospital entrance. Police, paramedics, and reporters crowd the screen. A wailing ambulance races past with lights flashing. Pandemonium.

Unable to watch or listen any longer, he presses the power button on the remote. “There is too much attention for us here,” he announces to the indifferent animals.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

“Where in your job description does it mention ‘leading armed assaults’?” Monique Olin speaks over the secure line in an ominous hush.