The Foundation would’ve infiltrated one of the two groups and attacked the other, causing the start of a gang war and an opportunity to sit and watch while the two sides destroyed themselves.
1995
“They’re going to smoke me” He thought, as he was running up a deserted avenue in the center of Bologna. “They’re going to fucking smoke me as soon as they get me”. His breath was running low and the slope he was desperately trying to get over certainly wasn’t helping that much. "And even if they don’t catch me…" Those thoughts were haunting him since he had started the run “…They’ll take it onto the rest of my goddamn family”.
«Halt! Stop right there!» voices shouted behind, echoing between the arcades of the old medieval town. Footsteps approached and, as he expected, gunshots went with them. He struggled to keep his big, square glasses in place and hid by a huge porch; he stopped for a second and heard several bullets hitting columns next to him.
His once hauntingly styled, now sweat-soaked pitch black hair was sticking on his forehead, his red tie almost undone, his black suit now scratched and ruined: the last well mannered thing left in his body was his voice.
«Bargnesi!» He began with his usual fair-minded tone «Let’s talk this out, will ya?»
The head of the three sicarios sent to kill him suddenly stopped and huffed: «No, Vincenzo» he protested. «You’re not getting out of this with one of your parlays this time. Understood, you traitor scum?»
Those words echoed between the buildings all around them. The footsteps had ceased and now the only background noise they could hear was the distant sound of cars from Via Marconi.
«Oh, come on, man» Vincenzo insisted «There must be someone at SISMA who still likes me! …At least one of you three. We were a team, right?»
The three were blocking every way out and their ominous shadows almost reached him from the ground. It looked like there was no escape among the yellow and reddish palaces of that town.
Stressed, Vincenzo rapidly explored all of his possibilities: he had a loaded M9 pistol and had already taken three people in a gunfight, but those three were scattered, anyone of them in a different direction; plus, they knew him and were ready to take whatever he pulled out his sleeves… Finally, unlike them, he couldn’t just get up and point a gun at the face of his ex-comrades. So that wasn’t an option.
«Trust me, we all did» the other answered.
He could’ve sprinted, knocked out one of them and started running again, but the street they were in looked like it had no mercy to concede hidden alleys for him to run into.
«Sure thing… And Mr. D. wanted so much to show me that sent you guys to put me down» He inquired while still hidden behind those columns. His hands were shaking as he pulled out his gun and checked it. Regardless of all his previous thoughts he was ready to defend himself.
«True» Bargnesi said «There’s no place for you in our ‘New Administration’ plan. Just get out of there and you won’t get hurt. One bullet, no pain. Come on.»
Time was ticking, and Vincenzo remembered he had another last resort move: asking a friend for help. Some people he met at the lavish parties he usually attended had different kinds of special features.
Bonnhofer had been unavailable for a month, Miss Martini had an important meeting, Mr. Bottaro was busy. Those guys were coming for him, he hadn't got much time and everyone that he could think about was unavailable. Breath was getting heavy and he had even lost his smooth talk at that point, knowing that could be his last moments on Earth.
Right! Lady Melville! Lady Melville still owed him a favor and as far as he knew she wasn't busy in any kind of important matters. He quickly took out his brand new Siemens cellphone and sent her an SMS.
As the hunter that once was his former colleague made his first step forward, the wall next to his prey suddenly morphed into a gigantic hand and grabbed him. «She got the message!» He shouted.
Between the stupor of the three gunmen reaching for him, Vincenzo rapidly vanished into the wall with that hand holding him tight.
1998
A man in his late fifties sat on a chair behind a wooden desk. «Vincenzo Guerra» Said while the sun rays lightened up the room with a warm glow typical of spring mornings «Special Agent Vincenzo Guerra». The man, wearing a tan suit with a blue shirt, had a written paper in hand from which he was taking all the info he needed. «Man of aristocratic descent. Socialite. Diplomat, well connected» He kept enunciating all those attributes as slow as a monk giving a speech, marking each of them with great emphasis.
«…Expert of unconventional strategic operations. Participated in several cover-up missions during the First Republic meddling period. Former SISMA officer, then degraded and expelled from the organization. They said the reason was ‘conflict of interests’, which is pretty funny considering your service history…»
Comfortably sat on a leather armchair next to him was a much younger man with carefully styled black hair, for some reason refraining to stay in the sunny side of the office. He made a satirically stressed face as he unbuttoned his blue pinstriped suit and loosened the knot of the regimental white and orange tie he was wearing.
«Ya know» he pondered «All that doesn’t look really good on paper»
«And now you’re here at the Foundation. Nobody wanted to prosecute you, seeing the results of your Milgram test: they were right, you’ve been an excellent operative».
That was weird. Guerra was just sent to the chief’s office and he started reading that without even greeting him. The yellow curtains alleviated the amount of light that could enter from the big window behind his superior, but something was missing: no more framed pictures on the old wooden furniture; even trophies or personal objects that he saw on the shelves previous times were gone. Was he retiring? He wasn’t that old. Moving, maybe? Some kind of promotion? The only way to know was to ask.
«Mr. Bosso, so what’s the reason I’ve been called here for? I guess you don’t just want to give me some credit». He continued.
Sector Head Giacomo Bosso put the papers onto the desk and let out a big puff before answering: «Director Sifone is forming a new autonomous Intelligence Bureau. The O5 have pushed for you to be Head Secretary».
Woah, big changes ahead. «But why me? I’ve been here for only two years and a half»
«You have the expertise the others lack. When SISMA collapsed on itself a lot of anomalous groups of any kind felt like they’d been freed and came back to business, with some of them threatening the Veil and others straight up threatening any authority that could try and keep them at their place. As this wasn’t enough, you know better than me that SISMA is anything but gone». Bosso was assorted, fiddling with pencils as he spoke to a vague point in the air. «The Foundation is so small in relation to this new habitat. Thought we look like an impenetrable castle, we are newbies in the Italian question».
«The SISMA they have in Rome is just a move by the government to make us think that they fixed their rebellious agency. Actual SISMA is a breathing corpse: they’re scattered in small units everywhere, ready to strike at us for usurping their throne» Guerra commented. «And, speaking of castles… Have you guys retrieved anything of my personal possessions?»
«See? That’s what I meant». Bosso pointed at him with a pencil «The O5 need you and you need the job. Would be a pity and a waste of an opportunity to turn down the offer».
«Fantastic. I have no other choice than to accept, then. When do I start?»
Mr. Bosso stood up and headed towards the door. «You can start reading files right now. There’s stuff to sign on your desk, too»
«My desk, Chief?»
«Yup, this is now your office. Stop calling me chief, I’ll just be a mere supervisor from now on. Congratulations, Head Secretary Guerra».
He was in control now. Left alone in the room he stood up to reach the desk and read his papers. He picked them up, then touched the office chair and freezed.
He didn’t like it.
While busy on his thoughts he realized that nothing in that room was enjoyable: the metal shelves were horrendous; he would’ve had to place frames with some paintings and pictures on every naked wall he saw; some of the pieces of furniture were in deep contrast with the older, wooden ones in the room, he would’ve had to change them too; last but not least, a short table next to the three armchairs would’ve been great.
He moved back to its favourite armchair and sat. Too bad all of his old paintings were confiscated by the SISMA along with the house they were in.
He would’ve noted all those changes and sent them to Bosso later; now it was time to do some work and read those papers.
Clearance level four
The first directive of the newly formed Intelligence Bureau is to ensure the survival and thriving of the SCP Foundation in the Italian anomalous landscape
It is imperative to the SCP Foundation’s mission to gain a pivotal role over other entities of interest on the territory
The task of the Head Secretary of the Bureau is to direct operations and produce long-term plans for a successful outcome on the issue.
The other documents were files with information on every Group of Interest and Nexus that was active in Italy: the Serpent’s Hand, obviously, had a significant presence in frequented anomalous areas; Marshall, Carter & Dark was, regrettably, the main authority over the hidden free city of Gorična and under their watch, smuggling thrived in the city; Febris Pharmaceuticals, instead, was a big chemical industry that often tried their drugs on people on the streets of the city; the last great enemy he had to confront was the Anomalous Materials Information and Security System, or SISMA: its remnants, full of authoritarian and power-hungry minds, had gone into hiding since their failed coup in 1996 and all Guerra's confiscated assets were — maybe — still in their hands.
Hours passed and the time to clock out was almost there. Guerra was focused on his paperwork when the door opened without a knock.
«Oh come on, can't you be well-mannered and ask before entering!?» He said before raising up his head. «Ah, hello Miki.»
Right in front of him was a man his age in a classic black suit. Guerra could never forget the messy brown hair and tiny moustache of his colleague, special agent Miki Mukayama. «Hi, V.» he answered. «Heard you're the boss now.»
«Kind of, yes. Trust me, you don't want to be in my place»
«I'm fine right here, thanks» he smiled. «I don't like giving speeches, plus if I have to tell them out loud to earn the trust of the whole Bureau».
«Right, I've been stressing over that for the whole afternoon. Why don't you have a seat?» Guerra pointed at the chair next to him «Wanna join me for a drink? Sun is low and there's a beautiful bottle of scotch whisky on that shelf over there».
«Sure, if it's only one glass».
Guerra stood up and quickły poured two glasses of the orange liqueur, then got back to his armchair and offered one to his longtime friend.
«It's good.» Miki said.
«Not as good as the one we had in Suez last year.» Guerra added.
«Oh, that's because you got fucking hammered by that booze and almost jeopardized the mission!»
«Miki, don't swear» he mocked.
«But yeah, it was really good. You Know what? you should try some good sake from Japan.»
«You've got any?» Guerra almost stood up in awe.
«No.»
«Too bad, you'll help me buy the right one.»
In the silence of Guerra's new office it was Miki's turn to start the conversation: «So it looks like we won't be on a mission together anymore, eh? It's… Sad.»
«Come on, don't worry about it. I'm the boss, right? Nobody can complain if I keep doing my part on the field, too».
Vincenzo laid in his bed in the minute apartment that the Foundation had granted him when he was hired. After leaving Mukayama, he had a plate of rice and eggs for dinner. Scrambled eggs. What a poor dish! It was kind of okay actually, it just felt so plain to eat that kind of food every time; still, there was no canteen in Site-77 yet.
Even his bed felt 'off': it had offered an unprecedented discomfort since two years earlier, when he moved in. Guerra had always felt trapped in that cubicle, he missed his old house; he wanted his double sized bed back, along with his old room and all the stuff inside of it: extremely valuable objects, paintings, even clothes, all that carried a considerable affective importance, too.
Since when SISMA had seized it, he had been feeling like his old property called his name like a throne calls for its king. Considering that house was as tiny as an astonishing castle on lake Iseo, he believed he had all the rights to feel homesick like that.
Regardless if it was some SISMA officers or any other moneybag friend of theirs that now inhabited it, he would take it back.
H.O.U.S.E.
«Good morning everyone» Guerra shouted, calling for the attention of everybody in the new Intelligence headquarters.
It was a big hall, widely illuminated. The red and yellow floor gave sort of an orange lighting all over the room and people worked on internal round balconies made of concrete, organized in three lodges. Miki was sat in one on the second floor, having a perfect frontal view on the stand from which Guerra was speaking: he was almost impassible on the outside, but was secretly rooting for his friend.
«For the large majority of you that has worked with me at least once in these two years: I get why some of you are a bit angry at me. For those who don’t know me, my name’s Vincenzo Guerra and I’m both a former SISMA agent and the new Head Secretary of this Bureau»
Some people were quietly listening, others started turning their heads and chattering about that statement: thanks to the stubbornness and hostility of those that came in contact with the Foundation that were still affiliated to SISMA, they were not seen with kind regards.
«So, I know, many of you are asking themselves “but why did they put a double agent in charge?” Well, let me first address the reason why we all are here first»
The next ten or fifteen minutes were a display of the speech he had prepared, interrupted by a quick joke now and then: «Now, summing it all up: the Italian anomalous landscape is constellated with small collectives and agencies; to ensure that the Foundation emerges and stands from it, some are to be coerced into liking us and others are to be weakened in order to be made inoffensive towards us. That’s why I’m presenting you a plan»
«The Plan for Hegemony Over Uncontrolled Special Entities, or Plan H.O.U.S.E. will consist in a systematic infiltration in every Nexus, organization or Group of Interest in order to extract every possible information on them; we will recruit as many covert agents as possible, and will ensure loyalty from small, friendly groups by diplomacy»
«First of all, the Papacy and its influence in the nation will be needed and I will personally go to negotiate with them: their loyalty is a matter of extreme importance thanks to the large network they still hold; the same will be done with the cultural congregations and other friendly People of Interest. As for the others, we shall need a more methodical approach»
«We have noticed that the Serpent’s Hand, one of the most hostile groups, has put it’s roots in the Free Port of Nova Cannae. Since the Foundation isn’t welcome in that nexus, it’s necessary that we perform ‘active covert operations’ to undermine the organization of the Group of Interest. The other Free Port on Italian soil is the hidden city of Gorična, which is mostly controlled by Marshall, Carter & Dark and is a vital node for their unauthorized anomalous commerce»
«Last is the SISMA. As you already know, after the failed coup of two years ago the agency has been downsized and is now innocuous. Now, this is bullshit: in my resume that everyone of you can find on its seat…» and he raised a piece of paper as he spoke «…You will find that I’ve been fired, and then hunted like a prey for six months by their agents right after I had discovered a backup plan for their leaders. Too bad I couldn’t imagine they’d use one just a year later»
«The actual SISMA is still alive and it’s regaining some kind of influence. They stay hidden, waiting to strike to lower our reach and destabilize our sphere»
«That’s why I’m here: I know how they work and I know how they think. Many times I’ve heard that the SISMA leadership can seem like an extinct race of wild wolves, but I wouldn’t stick with this statement. See they are smart, not stupidly aggressive, they don’t want, at least for now, to give us a revenge with a big show of force but they’re faking their deaths. So, here’s the answer at your question: they put me in charge because I think like they do. With your help we can hunt them down like the snakes they are.»
The crowd let out a conventional applause as Guerra took out another, scribbled piece of paper: «Well chaps, now it’s time for the orders: I want aisle 1A to prepare the logistics for a large scale infiltration into Gorična and a well orchestrated set up of agents of regional descent and safe contacts in the city; aisles 2C and 1C will instead prepare a draft for a covert operation into Cannae with Intel provided by a resume of aisles 1B and 2D; finally 3A and 3C will present to me a research plan on how to gather information on SISMA; everybody else will take on all the previous work. Be advised, I want every single one of my requests to be done and presented to aisle 3B no later than Thursday morning. Keep up the good work!»
As Guerra got into his office again on Thursday he found Mukayama on his armchair: he had brought all the papers from the headquarters and was waiting for him.
«You look tired» Miki inquired.
He was, in fact, very tired. He had come back from Vatican City after a long trip overnight and didn’t even know how much time he slept, but he sure knew that it wasn’t enough.
«The Vatican has its ways to keep people away from its marble city. Their bureaucracy for these matters is even slower and more tedious than in Italy… Absurd, right?»
At the sight of his tremendously uncomfortable office chair he immediately picked Miki off his armchair and moved it behind the desk, then finally he sat on it and let out a sigh of relief.
After regaining some life in his body, he continued: «Spoke to the Pope for 3 hours straight, then had lunch with two cardinals, old friends of mine, and resumed talks with the pope right after that. I came back to the hotel and kneeled down like a defeated knight»
Miki kept staring at him like “Ok, and so what?” as the seconds passed, then suddenly raised his shoulders to give him a signal.
«Oh,» Guerra explained «He agreed to share all information about SISMA and to stay in contact. We’ll have one or two guests from Rome here by next week, if I’m lucky.»
«Great» Miki answered. He tried to remember the words of his friend on why they needed so much the loyalty of the church, but he decided to remain silent on the matter. There were more important things to do.
After reading the papers, Guerra stood up and walked to the newly installed whiteboard on the wall. He picked up one resume and started scribbling: “Covert operation into Nova Cannae”.
“No. 1: open conflict.”
The Foundation would’ve invested millions of funds and stacked dozens of agents into the city to search for an enclave of the Serpent’s Hand. They would’ve stormed it until eradication thus gaining control over the city.
No. From the intel that aisle 1B gained, the population of the city is strongly against outside rule and would explode in a rebellion they couldn’t crush. As he could remember, if anyone from the city saw a SISMA coat of arms they would immediately shout at it… So, same was with an SCP logo.
“No. 2: anti-Hand propaganda”
The Foundation would’ve obtained control of a media outlet inside the city via infiltration and intel network: after boosting its popularity, this newspaper would’ve started pointing out or fabricating negative news about the Serpent’s Hand, turning the public opinion against them until they become an undesired presence. An infiltration into the Hand would be way riskier but would ensure the happening of “bad accidents” in the city.
That looked bold and ambitious, but very interesting and effective; the only difficulty was that it had to be a slow plan: taking over a newspaper and swaying public opinion was a matter of months, or even years. He would’ve surely taken it into consideration.
“No. 3: false flag operation”
The intel gained from aisles 2D and 1A showed the presence of at least three Chaos Insurgency outposts. Given that their coexistence in the city was kind of a fragile compromise, the Foundation would’ve infiltrated one of the two groups and attacked the other, causing the start of a gang war and an opportunity to sit and watch while the two sides destroyed themselves.
Chaos Insurgency! Who would have thought! Giving this info to director Sifone would have immediately granted the Bureau more and more funds if they could prove to dispose of them efficiently. That was a great opportunity.
«Miki, let’s go back to the headquarters and give a raise to whoever found the info and developed option three, it’s fantastic. As for Gorična, tell them to start the mission with the first six selected operatives, they will have to execute option two as quickly as possible.»
Metal Frenzy
The weekend passed, and the operation on Nova Cannae was finally ready to be launched. The ten chosen agents had undergone four days of rehearsals and training; they had prepared special devices to make the CI think that some wizards from the Serpent’s Hand had attacked them and they were ready to get into the portal for the city. Vincenzo had chosen to command the operation on the field, to stay close to his friend Miki and to maintain the influx of action that had always helped pumping blood in his veins.
The team, after a long trip by jet plane, was ready to enter the yota dimension in which the Nexus was situated. It was a Tuesday, a particularly torrid one, and all members entered the portal to find a very refreshing weather in there: it was still very sunny, but there was a strong, typical wind that always came from the sea where the black rocks were laid hundreds of years before .
The group, dressed up in civilian clothes, looked like a group of tourists drenched in sweat due to the hot weather of the Apulian countryside; they went on, walking between the ancient bricks of the old town.
They reached the scheduled rendezvous with one of their contacts, Mr. Campioni, who welcomed them into his home like they were old friends: part of the procedure. Once inside the dimly lit basement that would have later been their shelter, they extracted and checked all of their equipment: M9 pistols, submachine guns, night camouflages and the special device that Guerra was so proud of, having obtained permission to use it like a “magic simulator”; Nobody knew what that thing was as it was sealed in a black suitcase to stay protected.
He took out a map, unfolded it on the table and went through the whole plan one last time while waiting for the outside to get dark; they would’ve crossed the street and reached the labeled Chaos Insurgency outpost while avoiding the main roads, then open fire with the grand theatricality that is typical of terrorist attacks.
There was little tension among the team, as most of them were navigated special agents; Miki and Vincenzo always used to stay serene and joking in moments of wait and the latter even asked to their host if he could use a glass of red wine. Miki scolded him and accused his friend to have a problem with alcohol.
«If you only saw the shining booze collection in my house, I’m sure you’d fall in love with it like I did» he answered jokingly, but a faint wave of sadness laid upon him as soon as he talked about his house; again, the homesickness had distracted him for his purpose. «My house… All my stuff and memories…» he muttered.
Miki tried to reassure him, offering to get another glass of wine with him and thus being able to change his mood back again.
Sun was down, streets were silent and the team had almost arrived at the target area. No one talked; nobody made a single sound other than footsteps and breaths. They were ready to strike.
It had been a while since the last time that Paolo ate Chinese food. They lived in the underground and they had always been strict about their idea of staying hidden between the people of Cannae; those alleys in which they lurked lent perfectly for their cause. So they usually never tried to get seen in public and even the alliance between his higher-ups and the sorcerers of the Hand was little known around the city.
That day, however, was the last of their sergeant – who had just finished the process for retiring – and they wanted to celebrate a bit with a dinner all together. So, the sergeant in question had said his goodbyes and headed home; «Old age, you know» he had said laughing; Paolo and the other agents stayed to have another drink or two.
The calm was immediately interrupted by a knock on the steel door at the entrance. Who could have been at that time who knew the way into their structure? Maybe it was their former sergeant who had forgot something.
He got up and opened the small metal slit on the door, only to find two black eyes, preceded by a par of big, square glasses, piercing his head with their stare.
«…Hello?» Paolo asked.
«Hi!» a joyous voice inquired «Serpent’s hand. May I get in?»
What would they possibly want right then? Shocked, he answered: «Do you have any idea of what time is it? What do you want now, without any notice?»
«I wanna talk about the guy you accidentally killed two days ago»
«Uhm, what? I mean, it’s possible, but we don’t know anything about it here-»
«He was one of us. Let me in and we can solve the matter in minutes.» the voice said, changing its tone to a graver one.
«Hey man, I’m telling you I don’t know shit about this. If it’s true, we can send someone tomorrow to discuss this, but right now we’re having kind of a party, would be bad to stop everything for this… plus, it’s late evening, come on»
«Oh, I see» the voice commented «You’ve got no respect for my buddy Kalo. Too bad»
Paolo closed the slit on the door and huffed. What an asshole that four-eyes was. Probably, his dead friend wasn’t even real, but he wanted to inform the others about it. As he and the other guard headed to the basement where the celebrations were hosted, he noticed that the steel door was weirdly swelling like a balloon.
Before he could get the attention of his colleague, the door exploded with an extremely loud boom, launching hundreds of steel blades that had morphed from it right into their bodies.
Guerra got into the room, followed by his team; the two guards were on the ground at the center of a large blood puddle and with dozens of metal blades stuck in their backs.
«See?» he said «Special enchanted duct tape: we seized it from an MC&D courier and all it does is blowing up and transforming the things it gets put on. Pretty cool, right?»
He ordered two of his guys to gather all the documents they could, while he and the others continued storming the place. They went down in the basement, where the other members of the Insurgency, visibly drunk, had heard the boom from downstairs.
Vincenzo and Miki stood behind the entrance, waiting for the right moment to get in and open fire.
«Just as when you were in the Special Affairs Division, huh?» Vincenzo noted, looking at Miki.
«Damn right» Miki answered, before shouting to the people in the hall: «It’s the Hand! We’re here to avenge our friend that YOU killed!»
Vincenzo made a sign to get in, and the team stormed the outpost shooting at everyone they saw. Most of their enemies had already took up their arms, but they couldn’t win against the organized force that rammed them from all directions.
The room was full of a strong smell of burnt gunpowder, a sulphuric announcer of what was happening even for future witnesses.
Every single one of the occupants was left at least unconscious, sо the team quickly scattered fake hints all around before fleeing away. It had to be perfect; they had to believe that it had been the Serpent's Hand.
They went out of the place and ran away immediately, and people were starting to wander out of their home to investigate those loud noises. Making use of the least illuminated alleys they managed to get out of the scene, while a couple, man and woman, suddenly obstructed their way; based on how they looked, the two were obviously affiliated with the Hand. The man, with a third eye on one cheek and a weird glyph on the other, barked: «Insurgency…»
Everybody stood still as he clenched a hidden fist of rage.
«You had agreed to stay silent and invisible! What the frick happened!?» He angered them again while the glyph on his face was menacingly starting to glow.
«’Frick'? Really?» Guerra asked him «However, we were just having a party.»
«Then why the explosion? And what about your guns!?» The woman in a punk outfit inquired.
«We were having fun before one of yours knocked and insulted us!» Guerra was totally improvising, but somehow it worked.
«Oh Lord and where is he?» The man shouted. The situation was heating as seconds passed: the team had to rendez-vous at their safe house in minutes.
Guerra felt some kind of inspiration as he answered: «On the ground, next to our guys!»
He took out his gun, but after realizing that it was empty he directly threw it against the woman, making her K.O. while another agent shot three rounds into the man's chest.
«Don't shoot her» Guerra ordered. «It's no use.» He kept staring at the man with three eyes, agonizing on the ground. That guy was hardly breathing and couldn't move; differently from what they'd expected, he was looking at Guerra not with hatred, but with fear and sadness.
«We need to go» Said Guerra.
Beheading the Snake
Miki stood next to Vincenzo's desk, nervously walking around in the latter's office. His friend sat on his usual armchair, thinking about what furniture would fit better in the room; the other, visibly concerned, wasn't making it easy to wonder.
«Relax, Miki, our guests will be here in minutes»
«I'm still thinking about those two in the alley» Miki sat on a chair after speaking.
«Oh, come on, The operation was a big success, stop stressing yourself on this.»
«We shot an innocent per-»
«I know and I share your concerns, but you should know that every Type Green you come across is a potentially armed individual. All the time. I can't accept my team to be vaporized by a walking plasma gun we met in the street»
He used to get annoyed whenever anyone entered his office without knocking, but to Miki’s surprise this wasn’t the case. An old catholic nun suddenly crossed the entrance and closed the door behind her.
Guerra immediately stood up and approached her with a smile: «Sister Fanucci! What a fantastic sight! It’s so good to see you again!»
«Spare your embellished vocabulary, Guerra» she quickly stopped him.
«Oh please, take a seat at least!» He said while offering her a chair «Here’s my colleague and friend from Japan, Miki Mukayama.» The two guests exchanged a look of understanding.
As Guerra sat back at his place, he asked again: «May I ask you, sister, where’s Miss Di Pietro?»
«My assistant is helping to prepare the rooms for our stay» She gave him a lapidary answer.
«Ah, she can assist, obviously, I imagine she will help you expose your info about SISMA»
Sister Fanucci commenced without waiting for her assistant, exposing how the Vatican intelligence believed that SISMA was onto something: she described their movements as way more compulsive than usual; ‘like ants before it rains’ she had said. For her, the Foundation had made a mistake by thinking that their remains would stay unorganized; the small cells scattered out there were always in contact and under the control of a group of officers who stayed in hiding.
While talking, her small, grey eyes redirected towards the opening door as a brown haired girl with a white shirt and a colourful, long skirt silently came into the office.
«Hello everyone» She awkwardly whispered.
«Here you are, Elisa» Sister Fanucci said «Please, sit down with us. Remember Mr. Guerra?»
«Yes, hello Vincenzo.» She smiled.
«It’s nice to see you again, Miss» He got up and got closer «Mind if we get a coffee later?» He asked with the most coquettish tone he knew.
«Uhm, I… I don’t think that’s the case… Maybe another day…»
«Sure, no problem… Don’t worry about it…» He got back, defeated.
«So, Elisa» Fanucci continued as she didn’t see anything «I was telling these two that we think the mind behind the SISMA is still their last director, Antonio Dinello»
Guerra contained his awe with a single «Oh, Lord»; he couldn’t but remember his old boss.
«Wait» Miki added «Wasn’t he in prison?!»
«Elisa knows better» The nun said, pointing at her assistant.
«Ah, sure» Elisa picked up a big folder full of files and documents and started searching in it «We know that the… the former director of SISMA is currently detained in the esoteric superprison of Barcaglione, Ancona»
Miki, confused, relaunched his question: «But if that’s so, how would he…?»
«He’s an oneiromant» Guerra explained. «As I had imagined, he’s not the only one in the whole organization»
«Precisely,» Elisa continued «Even his thoughts can’t escape from there, but his shadow can go wherever he want while he dreams. That place is thaumaturgically fortified, but it’s old and can’t shield everything.»
«Do we have any proof?» Guerra asked again, while scribbling on a notebook.
«No, but…»
There wasn’t any rule that ordered them not to intervene, actually. They were an Intelligence Bureau, not some kind of police; the point was that they were put against a choice. They could’ve exposed him to the Italian government just for the SISMA to get back in hiding, or they could have let him go on with whatever his plan was and uncover it, with the risk of arriving too late.
Actually, Guerra had a third option in mind.
«How old is he?» He started.
Sister Fanucci, with a confused face, answered: «Seventy… Seventy six, I guess?»
«Good. We’ll sneak in and make his death look like an accident, then you will keep me informed about the situation of their other enclaves»
«You don’t just ‘sneak into’ a superprison» Miki observed.
«Miss Di Pietro noted that place is old, and it now can’t shield everything»
«What’s your idea, then?»
«Bribery»
Miki walked by the headquarters, next to aisles on the third floor. He entered 3B with a determined expression and asked for archivist Danieli; the employee accepted his request and gave him the file regarding the Nova Cannae operation.
«Why all this curiosity for a woman of the Serpent’s Hand?» Danieli wondered, looking at him from his office chair.
‘Sav Chiarenti’ was the name of the woman that Guerra had knocked out with his gun some days before. Apparently, she was a Type Blue. «I don’t know» Miki answered «I’ve got a bad omen.»
A man in a penitentiary police uniform carried a small letter case through a dark corridor. Breathing heavily, he passed next to cells where dangerous paracriminals were held, chained to the wall; every step on the floor echoed with the sound of a rock hitting a hard, hollow wood. The faces he surpassed were devoid of any light, as their hope to be free was leaving their brains with every second spent in there.
He reached the other side, where another guard stood before the steel gate to another sector.
«Message for Antonio Dinello» He announced.
«Has it been inspected? Is it devoid of any unusual hazard?» The guard asked as for protocol.
«I’ve controlled it personally…» He said «…Just as you did right now, too».
He looked right into his eyes and handed him a large wad of cash. The complacent guard opened the gate and told him to go to cell 8.
The man started walking again with that measured, redundant pace and it’s echo; after two minutes, he reached the cell. The old man on the other side of the cage was sat, kept in place by three sets of titanium chains that went from his hands to a metal rod ditched into the walls; a small caged window behind him gazed to the green fields and the blue sea beyond and let in a decent amount of white sun rays just to remind him of the freedom he had given away when he planned the coup d’etat in 1996.
«Message for you, Dinello» Claimed the man, as he made him come forth and put the letter case in front of his face.
He opened it, and without looking at its content he showed it to the other. The old man, incapable of moving, stared at the fractal image on the letter; the picture was moving and repeating inside his brain just as if it was alive; he felt every vein and artery in his body suddenly freezing, immobile; his brain and heart were falling into the infinity of the fractal image his eyes were stuck on and suddenly everything else in the room was getting more and more distant.
«Before you go, you might want to know who the sender is» The guard explained, looking at him with nothing more than professional indifference.
«Vincenzo Guerra, Head Secretary of the SCP Bureau of Intelligence, sends his best regards»
Within an instant, the heart of Antonio Dinello had stopped forever.
The body slowly fell on the ground, as the fake guard sealed back the picture into the letter case and vanished in thin air after making a sign with his hands.
Miki got in his car, a blue Fiat 125 with enough space inside for two people and a large grocery bag. He turned it on, put up an audio cassette and swiftly got out of the parking lot; as he passed the gates of the grocery store’s area, he caught two yellow eyes looking at him in the distance, through the rearview mirror.
Scared, he clenched to the steering wheel, almost running over two people. He continued his journey to Site-77 while he changed his path many times and continued looking around for the eyes of the woman he had encountered in that dark alley in Cannae; While he was sweating, he remembered the words of his friend: every Type Green — or Blue, in that case — was a potentially armed individual.
Fear and Memory
«Was this you?» Bosso asked with a note of nerve after having slammed a newspaper page on Guerra’s desk.
«It was a heart attack, you should read better the article» Guerra was resting his knees on the desk as well, with his usual mannered tone on his tongue.
«Stop playing with me, you fucking fancy pants!» He yelled «That shit right there is yours, right?!»
«Okay, okay, no need to swear» Guerra put his feet back on the ground «I sent someone to give him a taste of the good old Berryman-Langford. Isn’t it clever?»
Bosso was already angrier than ever before and after hearing those words he exploded again: «You used a fucking killer memetic agent to get rid of a prisoner of the Italian state! Are you out of your fucking mind?!»
«I thought I had complete decisional control» Guerra stated.
«You do, but I’m very close to revoke this! What will we tell the Prime Minister when he’ll ask about this?!»
«Oh, I’m sure he won’t care about it, I… Know a friend of him; I kind of miss her, now that i think about it. And, well, as I recall you said you were just a supervisor; not my boss anymore. Am I right?»
«Watch your shoulders, Guerra! Do some shit like that again and you’re out! You get this?!» Bosso, tired of the heated conversation, slammed the door behind him after that last warning.
Guerra let out a huff of relief and went back to his work; that day the task was connecting the dots with info about SISMA movements between their outposts in Northern Italy, where a pivotal facility was thought to be. Thanks to the work of both Sister Fanucci and the aisles assigned to the project, it looked like whatever they were doing was heavily slowed down by the death of their former director.
The door suddenly opened again, this time with Miki passing through it.
«V! I need you to listen to me right now» He was all sweaty and fatigued like he had been running away from something all morning.
He, in fact, told him that he had been followed; at work, in stores, around the city: basically everywhere. He felt someone’s eyes on him even when he was in a barricaded room, and he might have known whose eyes those were. He was scared that their current conversation could’ve been heard somehow, but Guerra reassured him by reminding him about Site protections.
«Are you still thinking about that woman?!» Guerra exclaimed.
«It was her eyes, I’m sure-»
«Wanna get some grape liqueur?»
«What? No!»
«Listen Miki, I’m not saying I don’t believe you, but I need proofs this time. The conflict in Cannae is still ongoing and it won’t be easy to find her at her place… Plus, I’m currently focused on SISMA activities»
«But»
«Miki, please, I’m telling you to pick an aisle and do it by yourself. I’ve already argued with Bosso and I’m waiting for Fanucci’s report.»
Miki left Guerra’s office with some bad feeling on his stomach, followed by a strong determination; he would’ve proven his suspects, and he would’ve found out why she was doing that.
He went to search for Danieli to get some help to track down the movements of that woman. Hours passed, and they were still searching: rumours of a woman performing wonders had been growing in a limited way across villages from Southern Italy to the Emilia-Romagna region.
Her credit card, then, had been used to pay for gas first in Foggia, then Pescara and Jesi, and again in Bologna. After staying in that track for other three hours, carefully linking every payment the woman had made in the last three days, they finally started designing a plan.
Guerra had almost finished making his map of SISMA outposts in Northern Italy when Sister Fanucci knocked; he got back to his armchair and welcomed her in while pouring himself a bit of scotch.
«Big news, here’s your report.» The nun left a consistent pile of documents on his desk before even sitting on her chair.
«Summary, please?» Guerra asked with an attempt at making a cute face, which came out as extremely hilarious.
«Fine» Fanucci puffed «We’ve found consistent hints of an important SISMA facility in the Brescia province.
«Oh, great» He commented «Do you already know where it’s located?»
«Sure…» She picked up the last paper in the pile of documents and quickly read: «Lake Iseo, on Loreto Island»
Guerra suddenly stood up and dropped his empty glass on the desk.
«What happened?» Fanucci asked «Already drunk with just a sip?»
«The SISMA facility on Loreto Island is my goddamn house!» He explained «They took it when I got fired three years ago»
Guerra put back the empty glass and rolled back at the whiteboard on the wall to write a plan.
«I don’t care if that’s a command centre or whatever, I want it back» He continued «We need to storm it»
«I want to suggest that since their special project we have theorized could be in there, you should investigate on it first» Sister Fanucci interrupted him from the chair without even looking. She was busy gazing through the big window beyond the desk.
«Don’t care, I want my house back»
«Or they could make the Senate explode with some new magic or machinery of theirs. Will you ever learn to listen to someone else aside from yourself, Vincenzo? Or will you keep doing what you and you only feel is right, just like with Taltör?!» She yelled, successfully filling the room with the heaviest silence for a bunch of seconds.
Guerra, frozen with his face staring at the whiteboard, slowly turned in front of her. He hadn’t been reminded about Taltör for two years before. «I’m sorry, Sister Marta» He huffed «You’re right»
He sat back on his armchair and relieved his back. Thought no one had noticed, Guerra had gone through a lot of stress recently.
«I… Have an idea… Wanna know about it?»
«Go on» Said Fanucci.
«Remember Lady Melville?»
«How can I forget her? You two were so nice together»
«Yeah thank you, that’s not the point»
«She’s just you, but she’s also a beautiful woman» She commented like old women do.
«Yes, I get it, come on. The point is that she lives near the lake too and she has — like I do, as you said — a lot of friends there. I can ask her to gather some information, she’s a master in ‘spilling tea’ if you know what I mean.»
«Fine» Sister Fanucci concluded, as she got off her chair. «See you tomorrow»
Guerra made a sign with his hands, accompanying her to the door with his eyes; Sister Fanucci, thought, stopped before the handle and turned to him again: «You should start frequenting her again»
«You mean Lady Melville?» Guerra waited some seconds before speaking, like he wanted to avoid talking about it.
«Of course I’m talking about her. Thus, you would finally leave Miss Di Pietro alone»
«Come on, I’m not that petulant»
«Just saying.» She alluded, then she opened the door and vanished behind it.
Evening had come and Guerra sat again on his bed. Dinner had been nice, but not that much: rice again, this time with sautéed vegetables; he would’ve tried having something way more nutrient, but he just couldn’t focus on it.
He stood up and went to do the dishes: first the bowl, then the spoon and fork and then again glass and spatula; as last he kept the pan, the final boss. With some work and scratches with a sponge Guerra managed to make it clean like it was when he’d bought it.
He had to talk to Lady Melville.
He quickly picked up his cellphone and walked to the window of his apartment, trying to gaze outside; The view, however, was really terrible.
Guerra stared at his phone as he slowly selected the SMS function. His finger hanged on the button for selecting the contact without moving as he was pondering. “Three years.
Three years without talking to her” he thought. “It’s terrible, I can’t just call her like nothing happened.”
On the other side, she could’ve got angry if he just texted her instead of calling… Maybe she’d have felt like he wasn’t giving her the importance she had. Years before, she would’ve just mocked him and said something like “Huh? Why don’t you just call me? Are you arresting someone?”
He tried making up a long text message, but he kept deleting it and rewriting from the start; words just couldn’t flow by his fingers.
After staying still for some minutes he just groaned and closed the SMS app. He took some steps around the house and then, sweating, he rapidly opened her contact and called her.
The wait before the answer felt like it was interminable; the redundant sound of the phone making the call was marking every second, as the rest of the apartment was totally silent.
After a few moments, the sound stopped and the cellphone emitted a voice.
«Hello?»
Bolt from the Blue
«Hi»
«Guerra? Is it you?» The voice was soft and sweet, but it stayed detached.
«I am. How are you?» He asked with the most serious tone he could manage.
«Uhm… Fine, I guess. Is everything okay?»
«I… Think I wanted to hear about you…»
«No… You… No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re out of your mind. Is it really you?!»
«Yes, I am. What’s the matter?»
«“What’s the matter”, you say? For real?» The voice raised its tone «God, I haven’t heard about you for three whole years. You vanished! First you disappeared, then the coup, then again the dismissal of the agency. I thought you had been arrested or worse, that you’d been killed! How do you think I feel now that someone with your voice calls me on the phone after three damned years?!»
«Listen… At least I remembered not to text you»
«Oh, it’s you, really. You know what? Fuck you. Not even a single letter all this time to let me know you were alive and well»
«I had told you, I had to stay hidden-»
«I know that!» She yelled.
«Then wha-»
«I missed you, fuck!» She interrupted him «And just as I start to forget and go on, you come back like this! For sure, there has to be a reason! You don’t want only to know how I'm doing»
«I’m so glad I’m talking to you»
«Get to the point, damn it! Where are you? I’m being worried about you»
«No need to. I’m with the Foundation now»
«Are you? Really?»
«Long story short, they hired me some time ago and now I’m Head of Intelligence»
«Oh… you just can’t control it, right?» She commented with a slight disgusted tone.
«Whatever you say, I need your help»
«No»
«Remember my house?»
«I said no»
«Please… Are you at least happy to hear me?»
«I am… I really am.» the voice broke for an instant.
«Will you help me?»
He heard silence for a moment, then her voice answered: «Okay»
Miki parked his car and got off; he walked through the gates of the grocery shop and started the shopping. A pepper, a pack of chicken breast, two cucumbers… Last, fried cod sticks. He loved that stuff; he kept walking around for a while with his earphones on,
gazing among the shelves.
Behind him, in the distance was the woman with yellow eyes, pretending to buy groceries. She kept both eyes on him, regardless of everything else.
«You see her, Danieli?» Miki asked through his earphones. On the other side, Danieli was inside a minivan and had disposed two agents, armed with stun devices out of the exits.
«Affirmative. Pay and get out, we’re ready» He said as he turned on the van.
Miki left the shop, aiming to lure the woman into the trap. However, she had used her magic to materialize out of the rear area of the building. An agent, having seen her, started chasing the objective and she started running from the scare.
«Get her!» Miki exclaimed, as he added himself to the chase; the woman was trying to launch enchantments to escape, but she could move well her hands while running; she got between the parked cars and, for a few moments, she thought she had outrun them. Just as she turned back her face she hit the van that Danieli was driving.
Immediately, Miki jumped and blocked her movements; the woman was twitching and trying to force herself out of the grip while Miki started asking questions: «Why are you following me, huh? Did you curse me?! Talk, witch!»
«Go away!» She roared and emitted a strong, blinding beam of light with a shockwave that threw Miki two meters away and moved some of the parked cars.
«Is everyone okay?!» Miki asked, only to discover that the woman had just escaped. Vanished in thin air.
«We are…» Said Danieli «But we’re fucked»
Miki was still panting, but had a big, almost unsettling smile on his face. «We’re golden, actually» He triumphantly explained to his confused colleagues that he had put a wiretap in her purse and with its GPS they could’ve followed her everywhere: if she decided to come back to Cannae and spill all the beans, they could have just disposed of her on the road.
Miki had a bad feeling about this option, but mercy wasn’t possible anymore.
Two weeks had passed.
While Miki and his aisle were spying on the yellow eyed woman, Guerra had finished and distributed to the Bureau the map of SISMA structures. The next part of the plan was to select and confirm the presence of a number of enemy outposts in the net that were in direct communication with the house, code name ‘Point Loch’.
With the map on their table, Miki and his Aisle continued their job with the help of Sister Fanucci and Miss Di Pietro; they kept tracking the witch movement after movement, place after place. As time passed, the pattern was starting to get clear: the Person of interest was slowly making her way to the North.
With days coming through, the Intelligence Bureau had put men everywhere along her path, to follow her and track her down a hundred times better than how she did.
The woman had reached the cities of Reggio Emilia, Parma and then Cremona; for some reason, she kept passing next to areas where the SISMA outposts were according to Guerra’s map.
The Head Secretary came to visit them to observe their work on a monday morning, while they were comparing the map to the screen.
«Great work, Miki. The wiretap was a tremendous idea» He said while sitting on a chair.
«So, Sister,» He continued «I spoke again to Lady Melville and I’ll go visit her today to get all the information she gathered»
«You spoke with Melville?!» Miki, who knew the story, was astonished. «When?»
«Well, first, three weeks ago…» Guerra kindly replied.
«Oh my God»
«She’s collaborating with us, Mukayama» Said Fanucci «She’s searching for info about Point Loch»
«That’s why» Guerra stood up again «I’m leaving in a few hours. Great work, everyone» He said while walking away.
The team waved back and got hooked again to the screen.
After lunch, the dot was moving in the direction of the hills near Brescia; again, this was were a SISMA outpost was marked on the map. Also, the field agents that were sent to precede the target had located a clandestine structure in the area.
«Does this mean that…» Miki tried to reflect.
«It has to be that» Elisa affirmed with confidence.
«It’s… Weird and on the verge of absurd, but… Seems just like that, Miss Di Pietro» Danieli
resolved.
Fanucci was staring at them in confusion, without any idea of what they meant: «Listen, this nun is really old. Can you please explain to me what the dot on the screen means?»
«Seems like that witch, affiliated to the Serpent’s Hand, has made a deal with the SISMA»
«What? Really?»
«Yeah, it’s so weird!»
«No» The nun exclaimed «It’s a catastrophe.»
She brought the team with her and sped to Guerra’s office, passing through corridors, aisle and floors. They presented in front of its door only to find out it was closed and locked. «Damn!» Miki said «He’s already gone!»
«Yep» Said Mr. Bosso, which was having a coffee behind them «I think he even had to reschedule the train, I believe I spoke to him a bit too long»
The team panted and went back to their aisle, with Sister Fanucci knowing she would’ve had to call him.
Guerra was waiting for his train at one of the high speed rail platforms in Modena station. It was a bright day, with a sky so blue it almost hypnotized people; in addition, a gentle wind flowed through the platforms, keeping him from feeling too hot by the rays of the big, warm sun.
He had spoken to Bosso again, to inform him of the plan, but that day his former chief was angry and nervous again, except that time wasn’t his fault. That feeling, however, was completely cancelled by the growing weight in his stomach: he imagined that feeling to be the concern of meeting Lady Melville again.
Trying to avoid the sensation, he kept gazing at the sky; he felt like he needed to find some peace of mind in that bright blue.
Suddenly his phone rang. He felt a heavier weight in his chest thinking it was her, but was relieved when he read that it was just Sister Fanucci.
«Hello?» He answered.
«Listen, Guerra» Fanucci quickly informed him «We’re pretty sure that SISMA is building a thaumaturgical power»
That was important news.
«How come?» He kept looking at the sky in the direction from which he thought his train was coming.
«Mukayama’s witch is working with them»
«W-what? What’s that?» Said Guerra, stuttering.
«Are you Listening?»
In the sky next to the station an enormous hole had appeared in the air.
A train full of people came out of it at full speed without any control and plunged in the direction of his platform. He could hear the people inside screaming.
Guerra tried to run, but it obviously wasn’t enough. The train crashed on the rails between the platform with the force of a building being demolished, launching rocks, debris and metal sheets in every direction. Some wagons had detached, rolling away and destroying other platforms in the area; others had exploded; many parts caught fire; many parts were covered in blood.
Guerra had been launched away by the shockwave, but he had the luck to land on someone else; the other guy had caught many wounds and a broken shoulder, but he just got away with a terrible pain in his back, a multitude of light injuries on his head and, together with that, a hammering headache.
He got up by himself, helped the other guy to lean on a column, and tried to search for his glasses. Stunned as he was, he felt everything around him to be extremely slow. He dragged on, unable to gaze to the sky anymore, and kept walking around while panting with extreme difficulty; he felt his heart pulse skyrocketing. Everything he could see was destroyed parts of a train, mauled corpses, fires and smoke. At his left he found a person killed by a small rock that was sent through her chest like a bullet; after walking some more he found three people left under a concrete column.
Everything was red.
As he felt his head exploding he rested on the stairs, waiting for paramedics to arrive.
Friends in High Places
«Ready?» Said Miki to the comms in his helmet. His team was ready to storm a SISMA base near Brescia; everybody was in his position away from the reinforced door and Sister Fanucci had been employed in what she knew the most as a member of Vatican spies: explosives. Those plastic bombs had been planted and hidden the night before, and the team had been waiting until the outpost had returned operational before striking.
The nun held the trigger in her hands and stayed hidden in the operational van alongside IT Operator Danieli. After hearing Miki’s words, she prepared ignition: «Three… Two… One… Flare!»
The door collapsed and the Field Operators entered the small building with all guns blazing. The few men that had surrendered and thus remained alive were arrested and sent to Site-77, while Miki and his squad scanned the place for any kind of blueprints for special projects; ultimately, nothing was found, but Miki retrieved a document that stated that the witch had been sent to the coordinates of Point Loch.
«Hey! Look at this!» He said after reaching the van. «The witch’s on a holiday on Lake Iseo»
«Guerra will be happy to hear this, I guess» Danieli replied with a note of irony.
Another week had passed since the tragic railway accident of Modena had happened. Although he hadn’t suffered particularly serious injuries, Guerra was still recovering in the Med Bay of Site-77, from which he monitored the status of all the three issues he had addressed at the start of his mandate.
The gang war between Chaos Insurgency and the Serpent’s Hand was still ongoing, with weekly confrontations on the streets on Nova Cannae.
In Gorična, the Foundation had been able to acquire a respected newspaper and the assigned team had started writing their first anti-MC&D and anti-Febris articles.
Operation Point Loch, instead, was ready to be launched; the Bureau only missed the information about the thaumaturgical weapon that they had in possession. For obvious reasons, the SISMA had been accused of the horrible slaughter that happened at that station, with it being either a test for the weapon, or a huge sacrifice needed to make it work.
He planned, prepared, designed to perfection every aspect of the operation and he even refused to sleep if he hadn’t completed a section of his scheme. Guerra had temporarily lost his usual temper and spent his days eating and studying all the info that came from every other canal that wasn’t Lady Melville. They would’ve met at her house on Friday, in occasion of a party.
Just on that Friday morning, when he received the news that their witch was in his house, he decided that the time was right; if they waited more, they would’ve lost all their advantage; the SISMA would’ve threatened the government with throwing a cargo ship on Rome and there would’ve been a horrible international crisis.
He swiftly wore his usual blue dress and orange tie; he put on his big square glasses and his watch and got out of the Med Bay, insisting to the nurses to not give him any ibuprofen. «I know I’m going to drink tonight» He justified himself.
The train ride was about two hours and a half, just to give him some time to look around the places of his old life before going to Lady Melville’s house.
He walked for some time next to the shore giving a look to everything he couldn’t recall from the past.
“There was a tree in that point, I remember”
“That house was differently painted years ago”
“Where did the big boat in there go?”
After a few minutes more, he finally saw it. In the distance, Loreto Island was standing on the calm waters of the lake, with its majestic castle made of stone bricks standing out on it; its trees and grass, its small harbour and the mountains behind it. Three years. Three years without its owner taking care of all that.
From that distance he couldn’t see any people in there, so he decided to finally reach Melville Mansion.
Lady Melville was in the main lounge directing the set-up of equipment and decoration for the party she would’ve hosted. It was a continuous checking on the work of technicians, waiters, butlers and other collaborators, making tests on and on to make sure that everything would’ve been perfect.
She was just managing where to put the stage for the band, when she heard the bell ring; she reached the window facing the entrance and saw the man with the blue suit at the gates, patiently waiting.
«Marco» She called a butler while nervously putting her white-ish hair in place «Prepare our best guest’s room». The assistant pulled down his head and took two attendants with him, disappearing behind a curve; meanwhile, Lady Melville had reached the hall and went down the stairs accompanied by the sound of her shoes on the pavement marble.
«Hello, Guerra» She said, meeting him right in the middle of the front yard.
«Miss!» He approached with open arms «It’s so good to see you again»
There she was, with her usual hair shaped in a wide bob with the same gap that left her forehead free on the right; she was looking directly in his eyes, forcing him to stare at her face that he hadn’t seen for so much time: the swirled black marks next to her grey eyes that always looked like an eccentric type of makeup; even the beauty spot on her left cheek was still there.
With her tiny hands joined at the height of her dark green shirt, she stayed firm as a statue and conceded only a smile to him.
«May I offer you a cup of tea? Chinese, finest quality»
«Sure. Let’s stay inside, this overcast sky is giving me a bad feeling» He said as they headed to the house.
«No need to. I sense it won’t rain, and I heard the weather will be clear as evening comes»
«Fine; shall we talk here, then?»
«I’d rather not… You see, the preparations for tonight’s celebrations are taking me more than I’d expected»
«Pardon me, Miss, but I believe I can be of service» Both of them had been educated on talking like that since they were children, in accord with their families’ customs.
«Oh I’m thankful, but it’s not needed»
«Let me help you, please… Like it was in the old days. So much time has passed since I attended one of your parties.»
«Fine, then. I’ll go and bring the guest list to our table. Let’s go to the gardens in the back, my assistants will set it up for us»
The afternoon passed among tea, biscuits and small talk about the past; by taking with her the guestlist, Lady Melville could both prepare the party and explain to his friend who he would’ve met that night.
Evening arrived, and the guests came with it; as it always was for parties in Melville Mansion, the whole place was lit up in music, dance and celebrations: the guests came from all parts of Northern Italy and beyond; from senators to noblewomen, from generals to influential personalities; many of them had connections to the anomalous world.
After a sophisticated supper where everything came back to how it always was for Guerra, the night actually began when he took his first glass of wine; he had missed the days when he was an undercover operative.
Lady Melville had brought him to meet their old friends, who all made a fierce expression of stupor when they found him alive and well in front of them. Bonnhofer, his old neighbour, joked about it so much that it wasn’t necessary to tell them any made up story about his years in hiding. While they joked and talked, Melville left them to go greet other guests.
«Wait» Guerra stopped her «Shouldn’t you present them to me like we said?»
«Later» She liquidated him with a word as she went to talk with a man.
Guerra pretended not to care about it and directed his old friends to go and take a few drinks more.
«One glass of Jagermeister! No, wait, please, no ice in it! It should already be frozen!» He was shouting, trying to be heard by the barman between the music and chaos «Oh, Miss Martini asked for a tonic and gin, and we’d like to have a Moscow mule and… And two Manhattan, please!»
After half an hour they were totally hammered; the group had an admirable will to stay active and funny even with so much booze in their stomachs. Lady Melville finally came back almost as drunk as they were, and after more small talk she took Guerra away and started presenting him to other guests: he later would remember having met the chief of the Italian Navy, some members of the French parliament and the Croatian government, the Habsburg Prince and at least two members of the Secret Services.
«You don’t seem to come from here» Some of those he talked to observed. Guerra, amused by the note, turned to Lady Melville and chuckled before speaking: «Is my accent from Reggio Emilia that strong?» He joked «I come from there, from a small noble family, and we acquired the castle of Loreto when I was very young. I’m planning to buy it back»
Lady Melville, instead, came from the Anglo-French nobility and had always lived in her mansion on the lake. She grew to become the only owner and, just like Guerra did, had always surrounded herself with well-connected friends.
They continued walking around and she would always point out whenever people they met were aligned with the SISMA and whether they had taken part in the set-up of Point Loch or not. At some point, the meetings had ended and they abandoned themselves to the music.
They danced and danced as the sounds shifted and everything was made both slower and faster at the same time thanks to the drinks they had; from a song to another, Lady Melville started taking off that thick wall of detachment that had accompanied her all the time and finally let herself go. Guerra, instead, was on a whirlwind of feelings: from ecstasy to fatigue he dragged it on and felt close to her again, aside from the mission and everything else.
They approached each other, then she grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him away again, as part of the dance; they swirled again and again, with her beautiful black dress fluttering around in the air, until they were so tired that they couldn’t stand anymore: Guerra meant that quite literally, as he had completely ignored the aching of the injuries on his head for hours until he couldn’t anymore.
She dragged him out of the dance floor, they both laughing and panting; she told the others they were going outside.
They walked away from the noises of the ball and reached the stairs; Guerra noticed that they had passed over the glass door and said «Wait, weren’t we going outside?»
«We’ll go on the terrace of my room. Your head needs care» She replied, pointing the places on his head that were almost bleeding.
They got in her bedroom and she made him rest on her bed. «Wait there» She said as she went to grab cotton rolls and disinfectant «We can talk freely here»
«So» He began «tell me about it»
«The castle is being used as a fortified outpost»
«Already knew that»
«They’re hiding something in its basement and it’s really big. Franchin, one of those I befriended on purpose, told me that it “isn’t big in dimensions, but in power”. Later, someone else told me that it’s a conceptual automated ritual»
«You mean… Some kind of thaumatological weapon?»
«Yes. It can pulverize and crush whatever they want and it needs six sorcerers to work. The point is…»
«I know, they found the sixth yesterday»
«That’s right. One more thing: is your chief called Bosso?»
«…Well, technically he's not my chief but yeah. Why?»
«He’s a spy, he works for SISMA. He’s keeping an eye on you when you’re at the Foundation.»
«How do you know that?!»
«I met him last week. I can prove it»
«Shit, shit, shit! I knew something was off!» He remembered the argument they had and the talk that made him change his train only to get involved in the railway incident.
«I’m sorry»
«Ouch!» He exclaimed as she started treating his wounds.
«I know it hurts. It must have been horrible»
«Imagine a whole train, full of people, falling from the sky… I was lucky. They still talk about the victims on TV.»
«It’s so sad… They used it as a sacrifice to activate their ritual»
«I would’ve guessed…»
«I always told you» She said with open heart «You had to stop with that job as it would’ve brought only bad things to us, but you seem to be totally reckless»
«Yes, I was terrible» He recalled.
«You never listened to me»
«I’m learning. Slowly, but I am»
«It’s too late already»
«I know» He looked in her eyes «How’s your boyfriend?»
Lady Melville was left in awe after hearing that.
«Come on, I saw you two talking on the dance floor. He looks like a good guy»
«We’re not official, but yes. He is» She explained with a resigned expression.
Guerra smiled and said nothing.
«Vincenzo, I-»
«It’s okay, really. It’s not that we two are anything anymore, I know it well. I just hope he’s not envious of me dancing with you and all»
«We talked about you many times, I wanted to settle the matter»
«You’re the perfect girl, Lilianne»
«Stop saying it»
«But you were, and I was terrible. I always had my work and risks and you were so strong not to leave me in fear that I could die and get thrown in the trash somewhere»
«Until I did»
«I was being chased, I was really in danger»
«And I left you when you most needed it!» She insisted as she let a tear fall off her luminous grey eyes.
«You never wanted to be part of this. I knew it and I understood» He said «I’m so sorry I dragged you in it again»
«I felt like I could do something good»
«Lily…»
She was crying in silence while she looked at him with the sweetest stare she could.
«Lily, come ‘ere. Come look at the moon, it’s great» He invited her as she sat next to him on the bed, clenching her hands on his arm. «See?» He continued «Sky’s clear, just as you sensed. Your powers are extraordinary»
«Can I ask you something?»
«Why not»
«Do you… Remember the concrete hand I caught you with three years ago?»
«Sure, what about it?»
«Did it hurt?» She asked.
Vincenzo chuckled and put a hand on her shoulder. «What? obviously not! It felt like being hugged»
They both laughed, followed by a few moments of silence. «I wonder if we’ll ever get back together» he said suddenly.
«I don’t know…»
«I guess we’ll see» he concluded «Good luck with that guy»
«Oh, fuck you again, Vincenzo! You can’t go back and forth like that!»
«Oh, I’m sorry!» He joked.
«Let’s forget this conversation and go back to the party, shall we?»
Siege!
Guerra had just said his goodbyes and had took a train to get back to Site-77. He had taken all the proofs about Bosso’s involvement and immediately called his team, but they told him that he had already escaped, presumably to Point Loch.
When he came back to the Site, he spoke with director Sifone and informed her on the issue; he immediately obtained green light for the final part of Plan H.O.U.S.E. and convened the whole Bureau in the headquarters to organize the operation; A few minutes were enough and the Operational Division put everything in motion: dozens of planes and helicopters took off Site-77, painting the sky with black dots.
Days before, the preliminary aspects had been completed by Miki and his squad, which had successfully assaulted and acquired all the SISMA stations surrounding Point Loch; those had been put under administration of the Foundation and had been faking their comms since their capture.
The objective was isolated.
On the jet plane carrying the primary team, Guerra and Miki sat in a private room.
«Your castle is over there, my king» Miki joked, but Guerra wasn’t in the mood. «Hey, what’s up? …Is it the train wreck, right?»
«Not only that»
«Oh, got it. Wanna talk about the party?»
«It was okay» Guerra said «I met my old friend group»
«Did you talk with Lady Melville?»
«We talked. We danced a lot, but we talked, too»
«Oh, you absolute madman» Miki commented. «You know what? I’ve been thinking»
«Wow! First time?» He still hadn’t lost his humour, after all.
«Shut up. I mean, I think the actual thing you search for is not your house»
«What do you mean? Look at all this! What could it be, if not that?!»
Miki leaned next to him and looked in his eyes: «Love. Love is the thing you’re actually searching for. See, you keep talking about all of your female acquaintances and I believe that you need your house back like a self defence mechanism. You search for a place of peace in your memories, since all that sentimental question is hurting you so much»
«You’ve really been thinking, eh?» Guerra noted «I don’t know, maybe you’re right. I’ll figure it out, somehow»
«Okay, but tell me: did you kiss her?» Miki swiftly came back to his previous tone and was avidly waiting for an answer.
«No, she is… Kind of busy»
«Aw, that sucks. She won’t be for long, I suppose»
«I don’t know, Miki. We’ll see» Guerra said, before leaning his back on the seat in an attempt to close his eyes and sleep.
The night had come, and the task force under Guerra’s control was on the shore of Lake Iseo, ready for the operation to be launched. Again, he had insisted to stay on the field with his agents, using the house as his excuse.
«Operational Command, is the service interruption ready?» He asked on the radio.
«Yessir. The people of Monte Isola have been advised that electric current on the Island and near areas will be cut for a period of approximately seven hours tonight»
«It’s time, then»
«Going dark in three. Two. One»
The spectacle of the lights on the lake was suddenly turned off, as the faint light of the night sky took over. Now it was the time for the boats to engage. From different parts of the shore, eight boats turned on their engines and directed to the Island of Loreto; all of them were carrying fully armed operators.
Miki however, who was on the boat with Guerra, Fanucci and two more agents, felt like something was off. It was kind of a battle against the odds, as they could’ve been vaporized by the ritual of the enemy within an instant, and he had told that to Guerra before.
«Why’s there an extra boat? Weren’t we seven teams?» He asked, trying to get over the noise of the engine.
«Don’t worry about it, I’ve planned it» Guerra replied. He was staying next to the driver, giving orders now and then.
«To all personnel» He communicated «Remember that the enemy is in possession of thaumaturgical defences. Whenever you see and confirm the presence of one, notice me immediately and use your rocket launchers. Every squad has one»
The boats were speeding, covered by the night, and had arrived three hundred meters near the objective; suddenly, a gigantic, glowing rectangular monolith emerged, making a loud boom; the shockwave almost knocked over boat Five, which had to stop and check its integrity.
«Shit! What’s that?!» Miki shouted. Guerra stayed still, staring at that like a general gazing onto the battlefield.
«Auto-enchantment spotted!» Said boat Five and Six through the radio «We’re engaging!»
Boat Five fired its rocket, but was just taken in the monolith zone of influence and destroyed by a bright ray of light. Devastated, team One looked from its boat in awe.
«Five, how many survivors?» Guerra transmitted. After a few moments, a voice replied: «Two, Sir! Waiting for pick-up!»
«Thank God. Six, fire your round and go get them! All personnel, mute outside sounds; that thing is making dangerous noises!»
Boat Six fired its rocket, which stroke right into the monolith; however, it wasn’t enough and that glowing rock was still floating over them. «We can’t rescue them like this, sir» Said boat Six.
«Got it. Boat Eight, your turn» Guerra ordered, as boat Eight changed its trajectory towards the monolith. Abruptly, boat Eight generated a distorted humanoid giant that hit it with all his three limbs together. Another boom was heard and the crashed glowing rock fell back into the water.
«What… What happened?» Miki asked in stupor.
«I never pick a fight with the odds, Miki» Guerra said like he was reminding him. «All personnel, reach the island!»
The boats arrived and operators flooded the small forest next to the castle, while responding to the fire of the defenders. The place was well guarded, but lack of electric power and the element of surprise made it very difficult to defend the shore: in a few minutes, the whole area surrounding the house was in the hands of Guerra.
Sister Fanucci, accompanied by team Four, placed her explosives on the gates, along with a specialized Reality-Cell System that neutralized all the curses that could’ve kept them force-closed; needless to say, Fanucci’s perfectly crafted bombs opened the doors without hesitation as a fierce firefight began. Team Two and Three launched their grappling hooks and got inside, while Guerra remained in the forest, giving orders.
«Team Four, establish a bridgehead in the hall, while teams Two and Three clear the floors above. Team Seven, you have a small SISMA force on your line of fire. Smoke ‘em.»
The siege had broken into Point Loch. The air was full of sulphur and ashes where everywhere, making it hard to see. Right in that moment, Operational Command was informing people in the surrounding areas that a massive counter-terrorism operation was undergoing.
«Keep your hands high, traitor» An old voice said behind his back. «End of the road, Guerra»
«Bargnesi, you again?!»
His old colleague and his guards kept him, alongside with team One, at gunpoint.
«Yes. Stop all this farce now, and maybe we’ll offer you a place in our ranks»
«Do you really think I’d want that? Are you stupid? Team Eight, come-»
«Fucking listen to me!» He shouted. «Or shall I make a hole in that fucking face of yours?! Stop this massacre»
«It’s ironic for you to speak about massacres…» Guerra commented, uncaring about the gun pointed at him. After all, it wasn’t the first time and certainly it wouldn’t be the last. «You fucking fascist»
All of a sudden, Bargnesi’s bones got ripped off his body and impaled his guards, killing all of them on the spot. Team Eight, a rogue force made up of Sarkite warriors, had arrived and Guerra, kind of disgusted by the gruesome sight, welcomed them with a handshake.
«It’s wonderful to have you here, Ön’Karrä. Thanks for your help»
«The honour is mine, Mr. Guerra. Death to the oppressors!» Yelled the Nälkän leader. It was time to storm the basement.
Divide, Rule, Unite
«You want control»
«You want vengeance. I can make it come true»
«You want control over our community!» The old woman with red tattoos on her face slammed her fist on the table.
Guerra sat at the wooden table, impassible as the negotiation needed.
«What I want, Mrs. Ön’Karrä, is compliance. I need this beautiful and flourishing village of yours not to be showed to other human eyes: that’s all I need you to do. As long as I’m in charge you will be allowed to perform all the sarcomancy you want, as long as you do it under the protection of the Veil. Just behave and nothing will be done to you or your people»
«Mr. Guerra, I’m afraid it’ll be a difficult task… Taltör is not big but our hunting and, as you say, ‘performing’ areas come close with other small settlements and it’s our right as Nälkäns, made in the same God’s image as you are, to make use of our lands»
«I don’t want to deny you your purpose, but I will need you to reorganize your activity areas. I’m asking you this effort in order to protect Taltör and I want you to live in peace. Or maybe you prefer the SISMA to rule over you all.»
The old woman spit on the ground, as the other people in the room swore or made sounds of disgust.
«Sir, do you have any idea of how the SISMA hurt our people back then? We were held as prisoners in our own city! We were kept under their constant watch and some years ago they… They…»
«I know about the persecution of your people, Mrs.» Guerra interrupted her and was followed by a grave silence by the others.
«As I told your guards when I came here, my primary purpose is to say sorry. I was ordered to take part in its organization and I did not have the strength to get myself out of it.» He continued as the woman stared at him with a comprehensible surprise.
He had seen it. Indirectly, but he’d seen the appendages getting severed from their bodies during rituals, he’d seen the mocks the Taltörians had endured and the idols thrown on the ground. He was sick of knowing all that and not being able to talk about it.
As he slowly felt his chest getting lighter, he added: «At first I thought it was for the good of the Republic. I continued to excuse myself for what I took part in and that haunted me for days and then for months: I am offering you a way to retaliate, to get your long gone revenge because I know how they work and I know how they will behave if they’ll somehow get back to power. And I’m telling you, they’re still active out there; my department is giving their guts to stop them and I am determined to do something good for once»
Silence fell again upon the room. The elders were looking at Ön’Karrä, waiting for her to send him out with insults, but she kept being silent. Ön’Karrä, the great karcist of Taltör, stood up and walked into the kitchen of the small house without saying a word.
She came back after only two minutes, carrying a block of cheese with her; she picked up a knife, put everything on a plate and cut a piece for him.
«Eat»
«Is this…» He said in confusion.
«Pecorino. Sheep’s cheese. We produce it here in Taltör with our own cattle. Now, please eat.»
Guerra ate his piece of cheese with Ön’Karrä, who had taken another one for herself.
«I felt your sincerity, Mr Guerra. This act will serve as a sign of collaboration within the Foundation, represented by you only, and the city of Taltör. I demand everybody in this room to treat this man with respect for the rest of his days and beyond. Now, if you will, I want to know how my people will get their revenge»
«Sure» He began «The objective is an important SISMA enclave in a villa on lake Iseo…»
«Team One, with me!» Shouted Guerra as he grabbed his gun and made his way towards the basement. He was forcing himself not to look at the state of his house during that tremendous battle; he reached the stairs a took cover, then shot two enemy agents that were guarding them.
«Head Secetary, Operational Command here» The radio said.
«Talk, command»
«Our controlled bases have received a distress signal from Point Loch!»
«Do not let it pass, execute the plan! Transmit back and tell the sender that every single one of those outposts is under attack!»
«Executing the plan, over and out»
Everything was in motion now, and the operation shifted to its final moments.
«Bosso! Where are you?!» He kept shouting while he moved down to the basement. He shot three rounds in the chest of another guard and continued, just to discover that his team was not with him.
«I’m right here!» Bosso’s voice exclaimed. He was next to the sorcerers that were performing the ritual, chanting a crooked song as they were stuck in a trance.
He tried shooting at them, but before he could aim, a bullet crossed his other arm. Immediately, Guerra took cover behind a wall and refilled his pistol.
«Where’s you team, Guerra?» Bosso said, with a mocking tone.
«I think you know better than me» He said, while trying not to think about the pain.
«Right! The place’s been isolated by these wizards, nobody can enter or exit!»
Guerra sprinted to another wall while shooting at Bosso, trying to catch him while he was talking, but he missed; in response, the latter shot another barrage in his direction.
«It’s over, Vincenzo» He continued «Hand over you gun!»
Guerra didn’t say a thing, as was busy using his tie to make his arm stop bleeding.
«In a few Hours, regardless of whatever your boys will do upstairs, Site-77 will disappear from existence along with the other Foundation assets in Italy. Drop your gun, now!»
Guerra was heavily breathing, as he thought on what to do. There wasn’t much time. He quickly thought about Miki and the team, and all the time they spent together; he remembered about Suez, and about the deep conversations they had. He then thought about Fanucci and Di Pietro, and he thought about Lilianne. All of that would’ve disappeared if he didn’t stop the ritual. He spent a few moments thinking again, but all he could think of was Lilianne and her sweet-smelling hair. She would’ve lived well.
«You know, you’ve did a pretty good job… If it wasn’t for that girlfriend of yours, we wouldn’t be it this situation… You could say this is all your fault, even…»
«She’s not my girlfriend right now!» Guerra yelled while he jumped out of his hiding spot and unloaded all his bullets into the wizards in the room, killing them all. He closed his eyes, feeling that it was over for him.
He felt his back hitting the ground, but no other bullet had hit him. He raised himself up and saw Bosso being held by an enormous hand made of stone.
«Vincenzo!» Lady Melville shouted as she entered the room by passing through a wall. «Are you okay?!»
Bosso was K.O. thanks to the strong grip of her sorcery. She opened the entrance to the basement and team One immediately stormed the place.
Miki arrived downstairs, only to find that it was already over. «We’re fine» Said Guerra.
«The house is clear. The last resisting cell has surrendered; and, as I’m seeing right now, the threat is no more»
«Tremendous work, everybody!» Guerra shouted, as the task force cheered all over the house. The mission was successful.
«Oh, what an idiot» Guerra reprised «Miki, this is Lilianne Melville. Lady Melville: this is Miki Mukayama, my colleague and friend.
The two looked at each other like they knew that both had been fooled by that man at least twice.
«Nice to meet you» They said.
Since the castles was still in renewal after the operation that had ruined its appearance, Guerra was still temporarily living in Site-77. The days at the office were as usual, and the other two issues of Plan H.O.U.S.E. were still being monitored by the Bureau of Intelligence.
He was having lunch with Miki and a glass of Japanese sake, having a small talk with his friend.
«So» Said the latter «When will your house be ready?»
«Two weeks at most, I reckon»
«Good luck, then»
«Lady Melville will throw another party on that day. Wanna come?
«Don’t know, I’m not really into parties»
«Oh come on!» Guerra jokingly yelled from his armchair.
«Listen to this: I’ll go to the party if you tell me why you got fired by SISMA at first»
«Oh yeah, I never told ya the truth, now that you mention that»
«You were a perfect agent and you cared about the state back then! What happened? Did you find some secret plans you weren’t meant to see? Did you argue with one of your superiors? Or did you fail a vital mission?!»
«Well, I got fired because…»
Miki was ready to hear the whole story and he gave all the attention he could.
«…Because I’m a monarchist»
«Oh… That’s weird. And then?»
«Nothing. They wanted me to be loyal to the republic and I really didn’t want to do that»
«Go fuck yourself, V. Really»
