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“Every single one not being used by the men guarding the house,” Lars confirmed.
“By the way – what happened with that assassin who took a shot at Dario?” I asked.
Lars and Adriano exchanged a look. Lars’s was more along the lines of Don’t you say a fuckin’ word while Adriano just smirked.
“What?” I asked, confused.
“It’s a long story,” Lars said.
“But a very interesting one,” Adriano said with a snorting laugh.
I frowned. “I wondered if the shooter might be Zollner, the guy who took Lucia. He didn’t mention it, but maybe he didn’t want me to know. It was three weeks ago – he could’ve taken the shot at Dario and then – ”
“OH no,” Adriano interrupted with a grin. “It wasn’t him. Trust me.”
Lars shot my brother another look, then promised me, “I’ll tell you after all this is over. Until then, it’s just a distraction.”
“Fine,” I said. “What’s Valentino doing in Sicily? And why’s Roberto in Hong Kong?”
“More distractions,” Lars said. “Later.”
If it was bad news and he didn’t want to tell me, it was probably for the best. I trusted his judgment.
“What about the boats?” I asked.
Lars checked his cell phone. “They should be arriving… now, as a matter of fact.”
Right on cue, three speed boats appeared in the distance. I could hear their engines roaring as they approached along the shoreline.
“You didn’t get them from Venice, right?” I asked. “There’s no chance they’re going to have bombs on them or – ”
“Nope,” Adriano. “We hired them out of Trieste.”
Trieste was a city across the water, about 40 miles from Venice. It was still in Italy but right on the border with Slovenia.
“Alright,” I said, and checked the other contents of the trunk.
Besides the bulletproof vests, there was a huge case that I assumed held Lars’s sniper rifle…
Plus a grenade launcher…
Plus an assortment of all types of assault rifles and pistols.
“Where’s the tools and duct tape?” I asked.
Lars rummaged under some bulletproof vests and pulled out the items I’d requested. “This is unorthodox, to say the very least.”
“Well, I need something for extra protection,” I said. “Zollner will be gunning for me from the second I step off the boat.”
I opened the rear passenger door of the Mercedes and set to work with the tools Lars had given me.
I got the door off its hinges in just under four minutes.
“We could’ve just gotten you a riot shield,” Adriano said as he put on a bulletproof vest.
“A riot shield won’t stop machine gun fire.”
“Let’s try not to expose ourselves to machine gun fire – how about that?” Lars said sardonically.
