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The park was long and narrow, bordered on the left by a busy Roman road and on the right by the ongoing excavation of an ancient square. Gadai examined the columns and crumbing walls that recalled a time when the Italians ruled the known world. Later Catholicism would take hold and the people of this region would embark on the Crusades, a genocidal rampage against the followers of Mohammed. The same people who were now so critical of violence had burned his people at the stake, imprisoned them in unimaginably cruel conditions, and forced them to endure tortures unparalleled in their creativity and savageness.
Now the Americans were sending their Christian soldiers marching across the Middle East in an effort to remake it in the name of a false faith that they themselves seemed largely uninterested in. They would never understand what it was to have God in one’s heart—for Him to be part of their very being. For the Americans, the Creator was nothing more than an occasional convenience. A being to be called on in difficult times and to be briefly acknowledged on public holidays.
“ETA one minute,” the voice said over his Bluetooth headset. “Her preferred position is fully open.”
Gadai acknowledged the message with a barely perceptible nod.
Conveniently, Accorso ate lunch at the same time as her daughter. On clear days like this one, she left her office at noon and came to this park to eat a sandwich brought from home. There were multiple benches to choose from, but she was biased toward the one closest to her building. If it wasn’t available, she would select the next in line.
Her daughter, Bianca, was even more predictable. She sat on the same low concrete wall at the front of her school every day. In the time they had been watching her, even the order of the people she ate with hadn’t varied. An example of the inviolable social hierarchy that all adolescents adhered to.
He spotted the blond hair and dark coat of his target just as the puppy found something of interest at the base of a garbage can. His first instinct was to jerk the animal away, but instead he paused until it was ready to move on. The bench Accorso had selected was visible to him now, and it was still completely empty. Again, Allah had blessed him.
He started toward her, setting his pace so that they would reach the bench at the same time.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Gadai said, stopping in front of it. “Were you going to sit here?”
Fortunately Accorso spoke fluent English—a prerequisite for her job administering contracts and trusts for her law firm.
Like the others, she barely noticed him, instead beaming at the dog. “What’s his name?”
“Her, actually. And I don’t know yet. She’s just Puppy for now.”
“I was going to eat lunch,” she said, pointing at the bench. “Feel free to join me. There’s plenty of room.”
“That’s very kind of you.”
They both sat and she leaned forward, rubbing the excited dog’s head. It nipped at her leg, and instead of pulling back, she laughed. “I have two just like her at home. Older now, though. You forget how cute they are at this age. Like children.”
It was all going exactly as planned. While he’d always been quite successful with women, striking up a conversation with one on a park bench was an unpredictable enterprise. If the attention was unwelcome, their interaction could cause her to move on. Or worse, it could attract the notice of people walking past. The animal solved all those issues.
“Here,” Gadai said, pulling out his phone. “Let me show you something.”
The woman assumed he was going to show her a photo of the puppy and frowned when the screen came to life. “I’m sorry, what is that?”
He leaned into her so he could speak quietly. “It’s a video of your daughter Bianca taken through a rifle scope.”
She froze, her expression turning from confusion to recognition and then to terror.
“Smile,” Gadai said, slipping the phone back in his jacket.
She began to stammer like some half-wit and he leaned into her ear again. “I said smile.”
She forced the corners of her mouth upward, still trying to get intelligible words out. “I . . . What . . .”
“Be silent and listen to me very carefully. I have no desire to see your daughter harmed. It can only attract attention to me and my people. Whether she lives her life never knowing this happened or dies today is entirely up to you.”
“But what do you want? I don’t have—”
“Silence!” he said in a sharp whisper. Still, the people passing by paid little attention. To the degree anyone looked in their direction, it was to admire the dog playfully attacking Accorso’s shoe.
“Your firm administers a set of files I’m interested in.”
“We administer many files. How—”
“This particular client would have made an unusual request. He would have asked you to send files out over the Internet in the event you didn’t hear from him on a particular schedule.”
She didn’t respond, but the subtle shift in her expression told him everything he needed to know.
