Ixeos: Book One of the Ixeos Trilogy (32 page)

No one appeared. Vasco knocked again, looking at his watch. Cells always left at least one member behind in a safe house unless there was a large and coordinated op. Naples was small, with few Firsts or slaves living in it. There was a canning plant, processing mostly tomatoes, and the Alpha Romeo automobile plant, which had been converted to produce larger, more practical vehicles. Those were the only industries run by the Firsts in the city.

Still no one appeared, and Vasco began to be afraid that they had walked into a trap or that the cell which had occupied this building had been captured or forced to move. It would be a grievous loss—the cell leader here, Rigoberto, was the senior cell leader in Naples and the only one who knew where all the others were located. Vasco looked over his shoulder at Monkey, raising his eyebrows in question. Monkey shrugged.

Turning to rejoin the group, Vasco heard the door creak behind him. Looking over his shoulder, he saw a slim young woman, a scarf tied around her head and her dark eyes wide and scared. He had never seen her before.

“Posso esserle d’aiuto?” she whispered.
Can I help you?

“
English?” Vasco asked, turning back to face her and trying to look harmless.

She shook her head, still fearful. “No, non proprio…”
No, not really.

In halted Italian, Vasco said, “Rigoberto è qui?”
Is Rigoberto here?

The girl relaxed some at the mention of Rigoberto’s name. “No. Sta lavorando. Chi sei?”
No. He’s working. Who are you?

“
Vasco. Io sono un amico.”
I’m a friend.

Visibly relaxing now, she gave him a small, timid smile and gestured for him to come in. He pointed back to Monkey and the others, hidden in the shadows of the trees. She nodded; Vasco waved and the whole group stepped quickly through the door and into the dark interior.

Vasco had used most of his Italian with the exchange at the door, but he was able to figure out that the young woman’s name was Pia and that she was alone in the apartment house. She walked them through a small open foyer and to a ground floor apartment in the back, offering them tea and showing them where to sit. She passed out cups and glasses and then retreated to a bedroom, her young face tense with anxiety.

Two hours later, they heard a back door open and close quietly and a tall, stout man in his forties entered with six others. Recovering from his surprise when he saw Vasco, he grinned and held out his arms.

“My friend! It is long to see you! How are things in your home?” He kissed both of Vasco’s cheeks and gave him a huge hug. Vasco laughed, returning the gesture.

“There is much to tell—much progress has been made. But we have a lot to do in a short time.”

Scowling, Rigoberto stared into Vasco’s eyes, then nodded at whatever he found there. He gestured to a young man who bore him a striking resemblance.

“You introduce everyone, make friends, give them some food.” Looking around, he asked the room in general, “Where is Pia?”

Vasco pointed down the hall. “I think we scared her.”

The Italian nodded. “Yes, she has just come from the country. She grew up on a small farm with just her family, thirty kilometers from the city.
Bandito
, they come at harvest time, they steal the sheep and the food. When her father and brothers fight back, they kill. Her mother, she die two year before.” He gave a huge shrug. “Pia, she very afraid now. We find her and bring her here and take care of her, but she no will go with us anywhere.”

“I’m thankful she let us in,” Vasco said. “But I’m afraid she might have to come with us—we are all going to have to go.”

“Eh? We must speak of this! Where is my son? Beppe, you stay here, you get all these peoples food and rest, eh? I must speak with our friend, find out where we are all going.” He clapped Vasco on the back and led the way down the hall, entering a different room than Pia had used as an escape.

Beppe smiled at the newcomers and began introducing the other rebels. Neahle got up and twisted her long ponytail into a messy bun.

“I’ll help with the food—just tell me what to do.”

Rigoberto stared at Vasco in shock. “You find it? You find Darian? After all these years, we can break him out of that
prigione,
the prison?”

Vasco smiled and nodded. “Yes, but we all have to get to Rome. We have five weeks until the prison transfers there. In that time, we have to get all your cells north, work out a battle plan, and do what training we can. I know it’ll be hard. Most people are going to have to walk…”

Rigoberto rubbed his chin, thinking. “We have one
autobus
. Is small, maybe twenty peoples together tight, yes? Maybe we make many trip to Rome, take everybody by the
autobus
.”

“I assume this is an old bus that you got working, one with no computer chips?” Vasco asked.

“
Si
, is old. But we have an old man in the east cell, he fix things. Very good. And he find many parts over the years. Like your Samson do for your motorbikes.”

“What about petrol? It will take a lot of petrol to transfer… How many people are there?”

Rigoberto thought again. “We lose five to the Firsts last month.” At Vasco’s start of surprise, he held up a hand. “I would tell you when you come next time, which is now, yes? Remember we were spying the Alpha Romeo plant, to see about exploding it. We had a new cell leader, Siffredo, very young. He have to lead the cell when Tomasso die. Siffredo… He don’t understand the best ways. He get too close, stay too long, too many time.” He shrugged. “The Firsts they waited for them. Only two escape. They are fine, but the others, they were taken. They are dead or slaves now. This we all know.”

“Did Siffredo know anything that he could tell the Firsts about your cells?” Vasco asked.

“No, he know nothing. He was smart, had fire,” Rigoberto thumped his fist to his chest. “But he know nothing to hurt us. Is okay. So that leave us with one hundred ninety altogether. Many peoples. Plus children and some
nonno
, grandparents, who are very old. We cannot take children to Rome, yes?”

Vasco thought for a long time. They hadn’t planned for children. “I think if you can use your bus we can take the children. The cells in Rome have children, too. We’ll make sure they’re cared for in a safe place when it’s time for the raid. But if you must walk, you will have to leave the children and enough people to care for them.”

“
Si
, is good. We find out about the
autobus
. Maybe there is time, if Vinci he need more parts, you can send peoples to find? In all the other places, yes?” Rigoberto smiled.

“Yes. I already have Clay and Samson going to Rome to work on the bikes; I’ll reroute them here first for a few days first to help with the bus. We’ll be able to use the motorcycles at your Depot for the people who know how to ride them. I’m sure Clay can help with the bus and service it between trips.” He thought for a moment, trying to make plans. “I’ll need to leave in a few days and go to Rome, to let them know you’ll be there sooner than we thought. Meanwhile, we’ll meet with the other cells here and let them know what’s going on.”

“They will be so happy! Is big blessing, to be here to help free Darian. Is what everybody dream of every night.”

“Then let’s hope your dreams come true.”

Chapter Forty-Five

F
our days later, Clay and
Samson were led to the Naples equipment Depot by Beppe. As Beppe chattered on in a hybrid of Italian and English, Clay looked around him in wonder at the beautiful city. He spent most of his time outside of the tunnels stuck in Depots fixing things, except while they were hunting for the Enigma machine and code books. Even in the dark, Naples was beautiful.

“Vinci, he have the
autobus
to the Depot now, for you to check, yes? The peoples, they no want walking all the way to
Roma
!” Beppe grinned at his companions.

Samson laughed. “No, I wouldn’t want to walk either. Did he bring all his parts?” Samson asked. Beppe looked at him, without comprehension. “Parts? Uh…” Samson turned to Clay. “Got any Italian?”

“Filtrar?” Clay said. “It’s Spanish—maybe it’s close.”

“Ah,
si,
parts,” Beppe said, carefully forming the word. “
Filtro
, yes, and many other things.”

“
Bueno
,”
Samson said.

With a grin, Beppe said, “
Buono.”

They walked in silence for five minutes, then turned down a narrow alley in an industrial section of the city. It looked like every other Depot Clay had visited: an old, dark, creepy warehouse. Sliding open the door, Beppe pointed to an office that was up a flight of rickety metal stairs. A small light was flickering there, most likely from a candle. Looking around the warehouse, Clay could make out the dark rounded shape of an old bus at the back near a roll-up door.

Following the others upstairs, Clay smiled when he entered the office. An old man was smoking a pipe in the corner. He grinned up at them from his mattress on the floor. Next to him was a child of about four, curled up around a giant pink bunny.

“
Benvenuto!
Welcome, welcome!” the man said softly. “I am Vinci, this is my granddaughter Mila. She is my assistant.” He grinned and ran his hand gently over the shiny black hair of the girl, his dark eyes crinkling in welcome. He started to get up, but Samson crossed over to him and shook his hand.

“Stay where you are, sir. It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Samson, this is Clay.” Clay stepped over and shook his hand. “We’ll join you in calling it a night and get to work in the morning, if that’s okay with you?”

Vinci nodded and pointed to a half dozen mattresses stacked against the wall. “We get Darian this time,
si
?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Samson said. “This time, we’re gonna get him.”

Neahle was assigned to work with three others in her group helping Rigoberto sort out the transport schedule, the exact number of rebels and children that would be going, and what each would need to take with them to Rome. The rebels were used to traveling light, but they were finding that children needed considerably more stuff when contemplating an extended stay.

“When there are kids on board, we’re only going to get eighteen on at a time because of the extra baggage,” Neahle said with exasperation, throwing down her pencil. “The more trips we have to take, the more likely we are to be discovered. This is impossible!”

Rigoberto rubbed his chin and stared at the list again. Including the children, there were two hundred and forty people to transport to Rome. Several of the older rebels had elected to stay in Naples — there were a half dozen who were almost eighty and who were as retired as it was possible to get when you were being hunted. Thirteen of the children were babies or toddlers who required diapers, multiple changes of clothes, portable cribs, and at least a few of their familiar toys.

The Italian sighed. “If we are not to leave the
bambino
, we will have to take these many journeys. I cannot see another way.”

“How long is the drive to Rome?” Neahle asked.

“Is not so far. Before the war, maybe one and one half hour. Now we cannot take the main road. We must go at night through small villages. It will be six hours at the least, I am afraid, maybe more. We will know after the first time.”

Neahle thought awhile. “The first trip will be one of the most dangerous. It would be best if the children can sleep while they are in the bus, but that will take up even more room.” She stared off into space. “We need a young, strong group along with some of the outsiders for the first trip, to see how it goes. The driver needs to be someone who knows the roads well. I think it might be best to send all the children on the second, third and fourth trips with just a few adults and let them get settled in Rome. If we put mostly children on the bus so they travel without their parents, we can get more in, even with all their stuff. Maybe twenty-five instead of eighteen.”