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We’d discussed this in the planning stage. There was no way I was going to risk infiltrating the property and then suddenly have my phone start buzzing with a text to abort the mission.
I sent the text and waited.
Ten seconds, later I got a one-word reply:
Proceed.
After that, I texted Sean: Going dark.
He immediately texted back, Good luck.
I put my phone into airplane mode and stowed it inside my vest.
Once I got out of the car, I threw the rope ladder up onto the stone wall several times until the sharp grappling hooks snagged hold. Then I climbed up, my sniper rifle strapped to my back.
I hoped that Rosolini hadn’t placed surveillance cameras nearby, or it was going to be a very short mission.
I took the grappling hook ladder with me as I jumped to the ground on the other side, rolling to absorb the shock of my fall.
Then I waited.
If a camera had seen me, someone would show up fairly soon.
No one did.
After 30 minutes, I started to move… very carefully.
I was looking for cameras.
I spotted two. I avoided the areas they covered and waited again.
No one showed up.
I started to move again.
The slow pace would have been maddening to the average person… but I knew it was far better to take my time and avoid a gunfight.
The morning was hot enough to make me sweat under my bodysuit and bulletproof helmet, but I ignored it. I’d endured discomfort a hundred times worse on previous missions for MI6.
By noon, I reached the olive groves –
When I heard voices.
I immediately found cover in a thicket of bushes and drew my suppressed Glock.
As my heart pounded in my chest, I listened carefully –
A man and a woman.
They were laughing and carrying a picnic basket.
They passed by me 30 feet away.
Through the foliage, I caught sight of the man.
Not Dario Rosolini…
But he definitely looked like he was related. Maybe a brother.
