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In two separate groups, they went shopping. Some looked for meat and deli items, cheeses, special sausages, bologna, and fruits in season. The other group went on a quest for bakery items, sweets, and bread for sandwiches. Hamish picked up the milk products that they would need, primarily half-and-half for their coffee and fresh ground Italian roast coffee for coffee maker that was supposed to be provided in both locations. He also picked up condiments for their barbecues, since at the little house, it was touted as having a huge fire pit and barbecue area.
They ate in the apartment in Imprunetta, and then the five of them came to the house and set up housekeeping there. Harper told them they should double check all their equipment, get their chargers up and running, and make sure the batteries were full before turning in. The next day was to be a day of exploring around the small village and surrounding areas, investigating, and getting a feel for the region and some of the businesses and people who lived and worked there. Harper was to meet with Leonardo, the former Italian Special Forces friend of Uncle Sam.
He retrieved his night vision goggles and watched the villa. He spotted Lipori right away, moving around and giving orders. Then later, he heard music and saw several men drinking wine and eating pizza on folding tables in the driveway just outside the rear door to the building. They had created a huge fire in an oversized fire pit, large enough to grill a wild boar.
He switched scopes so the light from the fire didn’t bleed in and ruin the picture. He tried to photograph the crowd and was pleased that some of the faces came through, so he sent them upstairs to Patterson. He scanned all of them one by one but did not see Lipori.
Patterson texted him the same comment.
Harper let him know he’d seen Lipori earlier, but he kept looking.
One of the things he noticed was that all of the military-age males appeared to come from different countries. They didn’t appear to be Italian, even though he knew some northern Italians were blonde and blue-eyed. Some looked Scandinavian while some appeared Ukranian or from the Baltic regions. And there were two Africans, with everybody else in between.
On a final sweep of the area, he again saw the silhouette of Lipori, and judging from his gait, he appeared to be irritated and in a hurry. It was funny, Harper thought, how they’ve been trained to pick out the leader of a group, and this guy definitely was the group leader, the other team members showing him deference.
Eventually, one by one, all of the men went inside. There were no women present. Harper figured the staff went to their own homes at night, especially with the influx of so many of these new males.
Beyond the villa was a what looked like an old stable that had a roof line that had collapsed. Debris, rubble from the cobblestones had fallen apart. And next to the stable was a beautiful vegetable garden appearing to be more than a half-acre. Rows were very evenly kept. Not a single weed in the place. Harper was in awe of the beautiful garden, parts of it glowing in the partial moonlight from above. It was hard to see, but he thought he saw a huge flower garden in the rear.
He walked outside to look at the stars and could hear faint sirens running in all directions. He also heard discussions in Italian floating and carrying over the hills, bouncing down the bottom of the canyon and up the other side. He made a note to himself to mention that to the men. The acoustics were such that the whole area turned into a large acoustical bowl. If they weren’t careful, they could be heard two or three miles away.
Harper was ready for bed. He opened the envelope that contained contracts and extra photographs Patterson had sent just before he left the house in California. He flipped through them one by one, examining the face of this young terrorist who was out for so much death and destruction. He wondered what made a person like that. He was a handsome man, with long brown hair that could be pulled back into a ponytail. He was tanned and smiled a lot with big white teeth. If he didn’t know better, he’d think he was a college kid somewhere local, kicking around the little village on spring break.
And then something caught his eye about Lipori’s picture. He noted the man had a necklace, a tribal necklace. On the surface was carved a face tied to a leather strap worn around his neck. Somewhere he had seen that necklace before. Perhaps he’d seen it in one of the shops at the airport or in the village, but he thought not. It did look African. Perhaps this was from his African days with the warlord’s Merry Band of Bandits.
It continued to bug him. All of a sudden, the side view of Lipori came up, and he saw what appeared to be something hidden beneath his shirt and knew that he had seen this before somewhere. His face appeared to resemble the man who lifted Lydia’s lifeless body up to transport her in the back of a truck. Searching back-and-forth from his computer screen to the photos, he became more and more certain of it.
Now he realized where else he’d seen this man before. He was the aid worker who appeared at the end of Sally’s Lydia tribute. He didn’t bring the CD with him, just the shot of Lydia being lifted. That had been Lipori. Was he one of the aid staff? Maybe there was more to the story than they’d told him. Could it be that Lydia actually knew her killer? Did something occur that turned him, suddenly, into a terrorist?
He laid back on the pillow, closed his eyes, and saw some of the happy images of Lydia and him walking with Venom on the beach.
“I’ll always love you, Lydia. I’ll never give up until I get this guy. Nothing else in my life is as important as that. I promise.”
Chapter 13
Next morning, Harpergot the text back from Patterson with a response to the information he’d sent to him in D.C.. He called Patterson’s cell.
“What are you thinking?” Patterson asked.
“She knew him. I have a video of them talking. She took that video the day she was killed.”
“I need to get that.”
“Working on it. Does this mean we just go in there and pick him up?”
“We know they plan to leave. He’s bought a ticket to London. I don’t have the other names. That’s not until next week. Do you have anything on him we can arrest him for?”
“Hardly,” Harper scoffed. “We just got here yesterday. We need a little more time. But doesn’t this change things? We can prove he knew my wife now. That he’d been planning something. Won’t that be enough?”
“Then you have to find something. Even if it’s an expired passport, something we can hold him on. Evidence of bomb-making material would be perfect.”
“Why not try for a miracle as well? We’ll have to dig around. I was just hoping this was enough.”
“I have to see the proof. Even then, probably not.”
“I’ll get my friend to forward the CD she made. You’ll see it at the end.”
“Okay, good. You’ll need to get pictures inside the house, check out their cars, see if you can find some form of ID so we can run traces on who the others are.”
