The 45th Parallel, page 26
Strolling casually toward the crowd, I discreetly lowered the gun in front of Carmelo and moved on. Over what felt like an eternity of sweat dripping uncomfortably down my back and between my breasts, I managed to collect ten weapons and distribute them among the hostages. Ten to us, fifteen to them. I could see three guards conferring on the other side of the room and actively avoided being in their direct line of sight. I moved slowly, trying to look confident, like I was patrolling and monitoring the group. The situation was becoming difficult. I couldn’t tell how many of the Caspians on the far side of the room were alert. One gun could kill many people with the magazines loaded.
The room had a strange hush to it. Muffled coughs and sneezes, the sound of people shuffling but trying not to draw attention to themselves. Children crying or asking questions, hurriedly quietened by parents. My heart was beating faster, and I panicked. What if they wake up? What if they start calling names again? There were still more of them than us with weapons. Not that I wanted to shoot anyone. I was an excellent shot, Illy had ensured that. But I had only ever shot targets for practice, never a person. Not even an animal.
Just one or two more, I told myself as I lurked around the edges. We need to tip the balance. Three were alert and talking, one of them the man with the list. The rest were sleeping or dead. Moving as close as I dared to the chattering three, I leaned against the wall against one woman, bending down as if speaking to her. The guards stopped speaking, glanced over, and then returned to their conversation, ignoring me. Slipping the gun from her, I dropped this one over my back using the strap. Okay, the odds were shifting. I could see an older man in the group trying to get my attention. He was a friend of Carmelo’s; I had met him once as we worked on Gianni’s braces. Leonardo. Give it to him, his face indicated. I nodded, dropping it at the edge and watching the people at the front slide it along the floor.
Suddenly, all hell broke loose. Leonardo stood and fired three shots. The three in the group talking all dropped to the floor. One was down, but two were only injured. They were on their knees, raising their guns toward the crowd, but mine was in my hands. I aimed and fired. Again. Again. They both staggered and fell, and I turned my attention to the noise at the far side of the room. Carmelo had shot three more. Before I comprehended what had happened, Carmelo was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. Crazed, I scanned the room for the shooter but saw another man grab Carmelo’s dropped weapon, aim, and fire. The bullet hit the shooter full in the chest, spattering blood across the pale wall. Before I knew what was happening, the crowd was surging, running, carrying children down hallways. I couldn’t find Gio. I scanned the room, searching for his hair in a sea of bodies and faces. There! He was crouched next to Carmelo, his shirt pressed over the wound.
“Let me help you,” I gasped.
Gio gazed up into my face like he didn’t recognize me. He had taken a solid beating. His eye was bruised and swollen, barely able to open it. His words were strangled and coarse.
“You. You did this.” He could barely get the words out.
I dropped to my knees beside Carmelo, tears filling my eyes. “Please let me help.”
His attention returned to Carmelo, and he began barking instructions. “Hold this. Hard,” he ordered as he tore off his shirt and returned his attention to Carmelo, ignoring me. Gio glanced up and bellowed at a few people. Before I knew it, four men carried the body toward the clinic, leaving me standing there open-mouthed. Leonardo was patrolling the perimeter, checking on each of the unconscious guards, shooting each one in turn. The noise of people running, screaming, and crying was overwhelming, and my head was spinning. I was shaking and dropped the gun that was still slung over my body. It clattered as it hit the ground, and I stared at it. Sera was at my side, clutching my hand and yammering, but I couldn’t hear the words.
“Sit,” I heard her say, and I dropped, the shudder reverberating up my spine.
“I didn’t mean here, but okay.” From where I sat in the middle of the floor, I looked at her, people rushing past me.
“You were phenomenal.” Her voice was full of awe. “I could never have done what you just did. Strutting around like you owned the place, like you were the boss. I watched you get changed, but even I couldn’t believe it was you.”
What did I do? My brain whirred. I am a murderer. I got Carmelo killed. That is what I did. Gio hates me, blames me. I killed him.
Chapter 44
Sera forced me into the shower, and I recoiled as the smell of the man I had killed rose around me interspersed in the steam and was rinsed from my body. I scrubbed as hard as I could to remove the sensation of death, but nothing worked. I felt dirty, tainted. Desperately, I tried to scour away the overpowering sense of disgust. Sera finally came to see what was taking so long.
“What are you doing?” she screamed, grabbing the scrubbing brush from me. She pulled my arm out and stared at the blood smears running along my arms and chest, the scratches deep in places.
“I killed them,” I gasped, barely able to get the words out.
“They would have killed us,” she soothed as she switched off the water and wrapped me in a towel, dripping in the base of the shower. I drew my knees up and dropped my head. I murdered people. Several people. Probably all of them. I put the poison in the wine, left it for them. I shot three, maybe more. What gives me the right to do that? The voices drowned me as I shrank away from the light and noise. I heard voices but couldn’t take it in. Matteo. She was talking to Matteo.
I felt the arms lift me, carry me to the bedroom, and lay me down. I curled into the smallest ball I could manage, hiding under the towel. Gio is disgusted with me. I am a murderer. Carmelo is dead, and it is all … my … fault.
I could feel Sera brushing my hair, talking to me, but I couldn’t see past the faces of the men and women I had killed. Poisoned and shot. Flickering in and out. Hot tears rolled down my cheeks, and I closed my eyes, blinking away the sea of faces torturing me.
Voices, more voices. Then darkness.
Soft snoring woke me. I rolled to find Gio curled up against me. As the visions of the dead bodies flashed before me, I gasped, and he was awake in a heartbeat, cradling me as the tsunami broke and tears poured down my cheeks, soaking the sheets.
“It’s alright, my love. I am here. Talk to me.”
“I thought you blamed me,” I sobbed, and he pushed me away, holding me at arm’s length.
“Blame you? Why would you think that?”
You said, “You did this,” I sobbed. “I did. I killed them. I poisoned the wine. I shot people. Real people. I got your uncle killed. It is all my fault.”
“Oh, bella,” he pulled me into his chest and held me tight. “I meant, you did this. You saved my people. Me. Matteo. You saved us all.”
“But Carmelo…”
“Is alive,” he breathed into my hair. “It was close, I admit. We have never worked on a gunshot wound before. I did not know one small bullet could do so much damage. But he is alive. In pain and he will need to live without a spleen. But he is okay.”
My father hasd no spleen, I wanted to say, also shot before I was born. But I couldn’t find the words.
“Carmelo was in the army here, the militare, so he knew what he was doing. He was an engineer like my father, but he had done his basic training. The other man, Leonardo, was a sharpshooter for the polizia. They both wanted to help. Neither of them wanted to be a victim, and you gave them the chance to help. Without you, we would all be dead. We sat there for hours bella, watching our friends be murdered. Knowing we could be next. I was so worried about you and your sister. Scared of what they would do if they found you. Never in my wildest dreams did I dare to think that you would do what you did.”
I clung to him as he stroked my hair, trying not to drown in the sea of faces, long shadowy fingers reaching for me. “I killed them,” played on repeat in my head.
His hands froze mid-stroke. “Sera told me what you did. How brave you were.”
I gulped, unable to respond. I didn’t feel brave. I felt … like a killer.
“How did you even get to the other pod? We left you here. I saw you come in from the tech door.”
“We swam,” I whispered. Gio took a sharp intake of breath.
“You really are immune?”
“You didn’t believe me?”
“I did, but…” He kissed my forehead. “Bella, I couldn’t believe it. They killed so many of us. Then watching you giving them the morte liquida, taking action like that. You, you…”
“What?” I asked, the torrent barely held in check.
“I don’t have words in English,” he said, embarrassed.
“You are angry?”
“Caitlin, angelo mio, how could I be angry that you saved my friends? Their children. My brother and me. We are all alive because of you and your bravery. You are …. a hero.”
“I’m a murderer,” I sobbed as the pain broke through. “I killed them. I did that.”
“Amore mio, is that why you did this?” He ran his fingers lightly along the scratches, running the length of my arms.
“I couldn’t get clean. I can’t get the smell off me. I feel tainted. Dirty. I keep seeing them there, their faces blank and eyes open and staring. I didn’t know dead people had their eyes open. I can still see them when I close my eyes, blaming me.”
“Have you never seen a dead person before?”
“Never,” I breathed.
“What are you scared of?”
“That they will haunt me. That I can never sleep again without seeing their faces. They were people, Gio, and I killed them. They had families, too. I keep seeing them. They keep reaching for me, pulling me down.”
“Amore mio,” he soothed. “It’s alright. I’m here. Sleep. It is my turn. I will keep you safe.”
Chapter 45
“Illyria Morgan, Chief of the Collective Communities.” She thrust her hand at Gio, simultaneously glaring at Sera and me. Clutching his other hand, I glared defiantly back. I towered over her by a head and shoulders, but she didn’t back down. Illy was a born leader. She was that rare person who possessed a tone that brooked no disagreement combined with a commanding physical presence. She might be tiny, but as soon as she walked into a room, people paid attention.
Gio shook her hand and lowered his head respectfully before she turned to Matteo, giving him the once over. Sera was pale, but she also stood her ground.
Illy scanned the room and identified the senior officials in a single glance. Riccardo, Marianela, and Paola stared at this tiny woman who strode over to them and had them all enthralled with her forthright manner. She had arrived less than an hour ago, flanked by Jake and Tadhg. Within minutes of her arrival, she had scheduled meetings and arranged for Tadhg to be granted access to all their systems. I watched, mesmerized. Even though I had seen her manage situations and people for years, I still observed her in amazement.
Illyria turned to us. “We speak. Now.”
“Mum,” Sera hissed.
“In private,” she snapped, not lowering her voice.
“We will come too,” Giovanni said quietly, nodding at his brother. I clutched his hand tighter, so grateful he was here. He wouldn’t let me face her wrath alone.
Illy wrinkled her nose, suspicious, but nodded, acknowledging everyone in the room was watching. There was quite the welcoming party, but most were lingering in the background, recognizing that this, above all else, was a family reunion.
“Who is he?” she asked, gesturing with her tiny, pointed chin toward Carmelo, lurking in the shadows behind us, leaning on his crutches.
Gio turned to check. “That is our godfather, Carmelo. He just wants to ensure we are safe.”
“Safe from me?” A quirk of her lips indicated she found this amusing.
“From anyone. Since our parents passed, he has been the closest thing we have to a father.”
“Zio Carmelo,” he said and stepped into the light.
Illy gasped, and all the color drained from her face.
“Who are you?” she breathed.
“Mum.” Sera clutched her arm. “You look like you have seen a ghost!”
“I am.” Her voice was shaky, and I could see her visibly trembling, trying to hold it together. The welcoming party were mumbling at the other side of the room, not loud enough for me to hear what they were saying, but the rumble of confusion was easy enough to identify.
“Who are you?” she fired at him again.
“Carmelo Alessio,” he responded in his characteristically soft tone. He smiled at her kindly.
“Alessio?” She was struggling to speak. Sera and I stared at her. Never in our lives had we seen Illyria lost for words.
“Who was your father?” She choked on the words, then looked at Gio, who translated.
“Luca Carmelo Alejandro Alessio.”
Sera and I stood open-mouthed, making Matteo and Gio look at all of us.
“Did your father have other children?” Illy croaked, clutching Sera’s arm.
Gio translated to Carmelo and then back to English. “He did. I have two younger sisters, but a half-brother, born five years before me, to his first wife in England. I never met him.”
“Dad?” Sera gasped. “Is Carmelo…”
“Your uncle? I think so,” Illy spoke gently, regaining control of herself. “Half-brother. You know Luca changed his surname to his mother’s after his father abandoned them. Alessio was his birth name. This man looks so much like your father, or how he would look now, I guess. Like you.” She nodded at me. “I would recognize him anywhere. The height, the facial structure. It feels like a dream, seeing him again.”
“Come.” Accepting that this was a moment best not played out in public, Gio steered us all up the lift and down the corridors to his apartment. Matteo assisted Carmelo, but Illy didn’t take her eyes from Carmelo the entire way. He watched her kindly and didn’t seem to mind this firecracker of a woman who came up to his chest ogling him. We settled on the couches, Sera and Matteo on one, Gio and me on the other. Illy and Carmelo took the chairs placed in front of the windows. Carmelo’s crutches leaned against the arm.
“How did you find us?” I breathed before she had a chance to really get started in a tirade.
“Wouldn’t you like to know! Tadhg tracked your file access.” She grinned. “Don’t think you are the only one with skills, young lady. Then he found the radio signal and heard the underwater habitations. We didn’t even know these communities existed. I have compiled a task force. They have been working around the clock for two months to work out precisely where you were. So we were ready to deploy when we discovered you were here.”
“How did you get here?”
“Do you recall that your uncle Jake can fly a helicopter?”
I had a vague memory of such a story and nodded. “Well, his landing skills haven’t improved, but he got me close enough. He wanted me to arrive first, but Tadhg is here too. He would like a word with you about what happened on Newgrange.”
My face turned the color of beetroot, feeling the security of Gio’s arm firmly around me, and Illy laughed. I was grateful he was beside me and, hopefully, couldn’t see my complete discomfort. “Although perhaps now is not the time.”
“Who else came?” I asked apprehensively.
“Fortunately, your mother was busy delivering Louis and Iona’s new baby, who is premature, so she couldn’t come. She desperately wants to see you. Before you ask, yes, Iona and the baby are fine. You have another niece. Sorcha and Katrin are both training in Clava at the moment, and I wouldn’t allow your father to come. He is too soft on you. But I have a message to pass on from your parents. Later, perhaps?” she asked cheekily.
I nodded and felt Gio nudge closer to my side protectively.
Illy switched to interrogation mode, and after an hour grilling us about reactivating the antipodes and our experiences in Yellowstone, Gio told her about our role in saving the community. Listening intently to the story, Illy leaned back in her chair slightly, still eyeing us suspiciously.
“We will talk about consequences later, ladies.” Her eyes twinkled, and I groaned, knowing this would be something creative, Illy style. “Now,” she said, turning to Carmelo.
Gio and Matteo took turns to translate as Illy fired questions at Carmelo, who responded calmly to this tiny spitfire who had burst into his world demanding answers. With the formal interrogation over, Gio got up at one point to pour and serve us wine, but Illy didn’t take her eyes from Carmelo, even as she accepted her glass. We listened intently as Illy told the full story of Luca’s childhood and his parentage. Our biological father and her beloved husband. The father who had abandoned him. His glittering military career and his life cut short in an act of revenge.
Through Gio, Carmelo explained what he knew. His father had been studying in England, in part to escape his controlling family. Initially, it had only been for a year, but he had loved it there, the freedom of being away from his former life. He had fallen in love with Allison, Luca’s mother, a fellow student. A nurse. He tried to keep it secret, but his family learned of his relationship and disapproved. She wasn’t Italian, nor Catholic, and they didn’t believe she was of the same social standing. His grandparents were ruthless, Carmelo explained, especially toward family. They demanded loyalty from others but weren’t the type to earn it. His family had placed a lot of pressure on him, threatening her and the baby. He knew they weren’t idle threats. Eventually, he had relented and returned home to protect them but never forgot his first wife and son. He had monitored them, but then she had moved and changed her name, and he lost track. Fearing that his family would still go after the child, Luca, he had let them go, convincing himself it was for the best. He had told Carmelo of his secret on his deathbed, one he had never disclosed even to his second wife. Before he passed, he explained he had lived a life full of regret and that his weakness had been his downfall. He had loved her and their child, but he had let his parents control him. He had forever regretted being weak and not standing up for them, nor looking for them when he had a chance. That had been his message to Carmelo as he was accepted into this community. Never live a life of regret. Follow your heart.
