Chapter 3 - The Roman Tarmac
When Alitalia Flight AZ 611 touched down at Rome's Fiumicino Airport, the early morning sun was washing over the tarmac in brilliant shades of rose and gold.
Instead of taxiing toward the main commercial terminal, the aircraft veered off onto a restricted private taxiway flanked by high security fencing.
Three black armored Alfa Romeos were waiting beside a fleet of tinted transport vans, surrounded by men in dark suits carrying concealed submachine guns.
Clare stood in the aisle of premium economy, holding three-year-old Maya tightly in her arms. The little girl clutched her worn stuffed rabbit, blinking sleepily against the bright Mediterranean light.
"Mommy, where are we?" Maya asked softly, rubbing her eyes against Clare's neck.
"We're in Italy, baby," Clare whispered, her heart hammering against her ribs as she saw the armed perimeter outside the cabin window.
Marco parted the curtain, gesturing toward the front exit. "Signora Jensen. The Don is waiting."
The commercial passengers were kept seated by the flight crew as Clare and Maya were escorted off the plane through the forward galley door.
The warm Italian morning breeze hit Clare's face, smelling of jet fuel, sea salt, and blooming oleander.
Dante stood at the bottom of the portable mobile staircase, holding Leo against his chest with one arm, his tailored suit completely unwrinkled despite the eight-hour crossing.
He looked up at Maya, his expression softening as the little girl peeked out from behind Clare's shoulder.
"She has your eyes," Dante noted quietly.
"Please, Mr. Salvatore," Clare pleaded in a desperate whisper as two guards took her weathered luggage. "Just let us take a train to Naples. If Richard's warrant reaches Interpol, you will be harboring a fugitive."
Dante let out a low, humorless laugh that made the nearby drivers stand taller.
"Interpol answers to the Italian Ministry of Justice," Dante said, opening the door to the central armored sedan himself. "And the Minister of Justice happens to be my second cousin. Get in the car, Clare."
Clare hesitated for a second, looking back at the massive commercial airliner that represented the last link to her old, terrified life in Ohio.
Behind her lay a courtroom where an abusive prosecutor held all the cards, ready to destroy her and strip her child away forever.
Ahead of her stood a dangerous Sicilian underworld titan who looked at her not as a broken victim, but as the only human being on earth who held the key to his son’s voice.
May you like
Clare climbed into the leather interior, pulling Maya into her lap.
The heavy armored door shut with a vault-like thud, sealing them off from the world as the motorcade surged onto the highway toward the ancient hills of Rome.
