An Apartment in Venice (27 page)

“You’re looking better, friend,” Tom said.

“Breathing without tubes makes a whale of a difference.”

“Was it a bad mission?”

“The worst. But maybe I’ve seen too much. I’m getting out.”

“Interesting,” Tom said and pulled up a chair.

“My service obligation ends November first. Thought I’d re-up one more time to train and prep, but no more. They sucked me back in—again. Thing is, my heart isn’t in it anymore. I might not make it out the next time, and with Giulia—”

“Yeah, she’s a good reason to get out. Teri’s ultimatum about Ops was a blessing in disguise. It gave me the momentum to move all the way out of the Force. Like you, I hadn’t planned it, but man, I haven’t missed it,” he said.

“Neither will I. Don’t need that adrenalin rush anymore. Got plenty with Giulia around.”

“I can imagine.”

“Not sure you can,” Chuck said with a broad grin on his face. “The nurse assigned to coddle me revealed Giulia’s method for waking me up.” He laughed then started to cough. Tom hopped up to hand him a cup of ice water from the tray that had been shoved too far from his bed.

After Chuck settled down, Tom said, “And?”

“That little wench slipped in here when no one was around and reached under the covers—”

“Checked to see what other parts were in a coma?”

“Something like that. Medics usually stick your toe with a sharp needle. She had other ideas.”

“Hands on approach, huh?”

“What’s funny is the doc seemed to think it was a good idea.”

“This doctor must be special for the military to put you in her care. What about her?”

“Giulia seems to think she walks on water,” Marlowe said as she and Marc came in.

Chuck started to introduce them, but Marlowe took over. “Save your throat, Chuck.”

“Your doctor, Luisa Cornaro, got her medical degree from University of Bologna. She’d lost her younger brother to head trauma and was determined to prevent that from happening to others. She worked with the Swiss Air Rescue group for a few years where she got hands-on experience with head traumas and learned about a diagnostic tool called the Glasgow Coma Scale.”

Marlowe continued, “She tried to work with the Italian Rescue group but they weren’t well organized—big surprise. They used private companies for rescue in the Italian Alps, and she met resistance with these groups because she was a woman—again no surprise.”

“Here we go again. Men getting a bad rap,” Marc sighed.

“I’m merely stating the facts, Marc.”

“I know, Sprout. Just pulling your chain.”

Undaunted, Marlowe continued. “Your doctor, Chuck, ended up studying with the people at uh…” From her knapsack, she pulled papers out and read from one. “Here it is. She studied at the Womack Army Medical Center at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. That’s where the coma scale was devised.” Marlowe gave them a quick example of the point system and put her papers away. “I’m guessing your doc’s reputation is why the military experts sent you here.”

“Thanks, Marlowe,” Chuck said. “I appreciate the information.”

“You can thank Giulia. She asked me to research it for her. Where is she?”

“Resting, I hope. She’s been here almost as much as I have,” Chuck said.

“When will they spring you?” Marc asked.

“Soon, dammit, or I’ll spring myself. Giulia agreed to bring real clothes. As soon as I can maneuver these halls without gasping for air, I’m outta here.”

“You look a helluva lot better since yesterday,” Marc said then turned to Tom. “Tom, your time’s probably limited. We can pester Chuck later.”

“I’ll walk out with you,” Tom said. “Back in a jif.” But Chuck’s eyes were already drooping. They all stepped into the small campo and walked toward the round-shouldered facade of the old church of San Zaccaria.

“Tom?” Marc said turning toward the somber man beside him. “We’d like you to come to our wedding reception on June 14th. Chuck’s talked a lot about you, and I feel I already know you. Chuck ought to be up and about by then. Could you make it?”

“Could be.”

“We got married in February,” Marlowe added, “but Marc’s family is planning a whoop-tee-do. Ought to be fun.”

“Thanks for the invite. I’m on a new job and need to see what’s scheduled. But it sounds grand.”

“Guaranteed,” she said. “The Baroviers take family festas seriously.”

“I’ll do my best. That’s less than three weeks away. I’ll want to check on Chuck anyway. I’m glad to finally meet you, Marc. Even more pleasant to meet
you,
Marlowe.” He gave her a small hug, shook Marc’s hand and they left.

When Tom slipped back into Chuck’s room, he thought he was asleep and started to back out. Chuck croaked, “Don’t go away mad.”

“How are you doing, really?”

“Gettin’ there.”

“And Giulia? Your devoted slave?”

“We’re in a better place.”

“Any doubts left?”

“Not on my part.”

“What’s that mean?”

“She had—or maybe still has—doubts about my possible doubts. Jeez, relationships aren’t easy.”

Tom guffawed. “Elementary, dear Watson. What’s going on with her place versus yours? Obviously things have changed since she’s back with you.”

Chuck gulped more water and gave him a recap of her cursed apartment.

“Is she with you permanently?”

“We were working on that before I shipped out. Her enthusiasm for finding another place had waned, and I was trying to take advantage of that.”

The nurse came in to check his vitals.

After the nurse left, Tom continued. “Guess she’s had this idea of a special Venetian apartment for ages, huh?”

“God yes. Now, though, it seems fruitless to keep looking since it’s ninety-nine percent sure we both want to be together.”

“It’s none of my business, but—”

“You’re right. But you won’t let a little thing like that interfere.”

Tom punched Chuck lightly. “You’re going to get my two-cents worth.”

“I’m all ears.”

“It’s simple. When you get back on your feet, why don’t both of you search for another apartment—”

“A neutral place?” Chuck asked.

“Yeah. How’d you know I was going to say that?”

“Give me a break. I’ve had nothing but time to think on this. I like my place but like her better. I’ll move anywhere, but first, I’ve got to pin her down.”

Tom muffled a laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Just thinking about that little gal sneaking a feel to check out your tool.”

Chuck raised himself up a little, “And y
our
tool will be in great trouble if you let on to her that you know.” Then he coughed again.

“Lie down, man. Rest. I need to shop for a couple friends in Brussels.”

Giulia walked in at that moment. Tom gave her a brief hug and headed on out. With her back to him, Tom mimed zipping his lips and left.

“How’re you doing?” she said. “You’ve had a ton of visitors. And the guys in your unit are chafing to come. Are you up to it tomorrow?”

“Yeah, I think so. Short visits anyway, except for you.”

“Did I tell you Colonel Ryland was a big help? And very kind.”

“He’s a good man. A loyal friend.” He coughed, and she leaned across him to pick up the cup of water. Her breast brushed against him.

“Want a sip?”

He nuzzled her and whispered, “I want a sip of you today and everyday.”

“Are you talking about permanent sipping privileges?”

“Damn straight I am.” He began coughing, violently.

“Pulling your old tricks again?” his nurse said to Giulia. “Let’s see what he brings up this time.”

While Giulia waited in the hall, Lieutenant de Stefano of the Carabinieri appeared. After a brief chat, he followed her into Chuck’s room.

I’m sorry to bother you, Major General Novak, but Ms. Cavinato assured me you were well enough for a quick visit.”

“Absolutely,” Chuck said and raised himself into a more upright position.

“First, Signor Botteri is in custody and won’t be free until he and his henchmen are brought to trial. And the men who were trailing you, Ms. Cavinato, have also been captured.”

Giulia’s cheeks puffed as she blew a big breath out of her mouth. “It’ll feel strange to walk around not cringing at every shadow. The thought of being in that man’s clutches…” She shuddered. Chuck reached for her hand.

“I’m surprised that a man like Botteri can’t pull strings to get himself free or at least out on bail,” Chuck said.

“Not this time. As far as I know, he has no access to his many
avvocati,
lawyers, and he and his followers are being held far away. As I mentioned, a task force has been working on an issue that involves more than Botteri and his petty hoodlums.”

“Thank you for coming to tell us, Lieutenant,” Giulia said.

“And I want to thank you for protecting Giulia until they were all caught,” Chuck said.

“You’re welcome. Are there any questions?”

“Yes,” Giulia said. “Do you know if Botteri’s thugs broke into my apartment in Vicenza?”

“Oh. Almost forgot. Other than the fingerprints the police expected to find, like yours and your landlords’, there were three different sets. Two were from those men who were trailing you. They’ve been in trouble time after time. It’s strange Botteri used them. But the third set, found on a tube of toothpaste, are unknown.” He shrugged in disbelief at that. “The police are still trying to find a match for those.”

Chuck and Giulia exchanged glances. They knew whose prints they were but couldn’t prove it without admitting Chuck had broken into Ogle’s place.

Di Stefano caught their silent communication. He seemed to hesitate but then asked, “Do you know whose prints that third set might be?”

“We only have a suspicion,” Chuck said. “No proof.” Di Stefano was quick and Chuck hoped he wouldn’t think Giulia was involved in another crime he ought to investigate. “He’s connected with the American base and is in custody in the States for something else.”

“Well, then,” the Lieutenant said. “Maybe your lives can return to normal.”

“Hope so. And thanks again for your protection,” Giulia said.

“You have my card. If you feel threatened again, don’t hesitate to call.”

“I won’t.”

“Use this case number.” He took another card and wrote on the reverse. “That will speed things up.”

He left and Giulia collapsed into the chair beside his bed.

After a long silence Chuck said, “Micina?”

“Hmm?”

“Before I leave here, we need to talk.”

“You need rest. We’ll have plenty of time when you’re home.”

“No. I’ll be filling out form after form about the mission not to mention going in for oral reports. Then I’ll start paperwork to get out of the Force. My tour’s over November first.”

“So you’re going to do it after all? I admit I’m pleased, but aren’t you too young to retire?”

“Not too young to get away from more disasters or—like this last time—avoiding one by the skin of my teeth. I’ve given enough and served more than my twenty years.”

“But what will you do with yourself when you get your energy back?”

“I have an idea or two, and I’ll tell you about it, but right now, I have a much bigger worry and—”

“In your fit condition, Dr. Cee says you’ll be back to normal in no time.”

“I know. Soon as I can work out regularly, my lung capacity will be back.”

“Then what’s your problem?”

“Come closer.” She did, and he lifted her up to lie beside him again, putting her head in the crook of his arm.

“What can I do to help?” she asked and squirmed closer.

“You can marry me.”

She stopped squirming and lay speechless.

“Will you marry me?” He whispered and raised up to look at her. “I’ll get down on my knee—”

“Yes.”

“Giulia, if that’s what you want, I’ll get on my knee right now,” and he pushed the cover back to slide out of bed.

“Chu-uck,” she said dragging his name into two syllables as she pulled him back. “Yes. Yes. I will. I already shouted yes day before yesterday.”

“You did? To me?”

“Of course to you,” she laughed. “You kept saying words that sounded like ‘Say yes.’ You said them over and over, so I shouted back, ‘Yes. Yes. Yes.’”

Chuck was quiet for a long time. “I thought I dreamed it.”

They lay on his narrow hospital bed holding each other. He nuzzled her ear, she kissed his neck, and both fell asleep.

* * *

When Chuck woke up, Giulia was gone. Dr. Cornaro was leaning over him listening to his chest. He looked around. “Where’s Giulia?”

“I sent her home for the night. She’s exhausted. She’ll be back in the morning. Your evening meal’s on the way, and I insist you eat every bite.”

“Yes ma’am.” And he saluted her. “I do believe I’m hungry.”

“That’s good news.” She left.

As Chuck finished eating, Tom walked in. “Want to spend a few more minutes with you, before I leave. My new assistant called, sounding frantic. But I’m hoping to be back for Marc and Marlowe’s big party.”

“Good. Maybe I can rustle up a prospect for you by then.”

“You still planning to call it quits?” Tom said as he pulled up a chair.

“Absolutely. The Force has been good to me. In the early years, I was inspired to achieve and they rewarded me for some of my ideas—especially on missions. But lately, it seems innovation has become dangerous to career success. Personnel are promoted by years of service rather than merit.”

Tom was nodding as Chuck spoke.

“More and more I feel like an outsider. Like Harry Bosch. Have you read Michael Connelly’s thrillers about detective Bosch?”

“Oh yeah,” Tom said. “He’s a memorable character.”

“Right now, I feel like Harry. My success rate’s been good. Out of countless missions, I’ve only lost one man—one of my best.” He stopped to sip more water and stared out the one window of his room. Not much of a view, but a lone cypress and its green boughs gave him a sense of space. For a moment, he was back there with the man he’d lost. Then he turned to Tom.

“But the damned system keeps investigating my methods. Thank God I brought everyone home this last time.” He sighed. “I’m signing off on that.”

“What will you do?”

“Back in the States, lots of special-forces guys go into private security or start their own. I have no plans to live there again but been wondering if that could work in Venice.”

“Don’t see why not. Criminals and terrorists lurk everywhere. And from what I’ve been hearing, they’re all across the Veneto. Maybe even in Venice.”

“For sure,” Chuck said, thinking of Giulia’s experience with Botteri over in Vicenza. “How long do you plan to stay with the Solar Wind project? If I start a security company, maybe you might come in with me?”

“I can see doing that.” Tom crossed his arms and leaned back tipping his chair. “After clawing my way up one hill after another, either for the next degree or promotion. Yeah!” Tom said, leaning forward, slapping his thighs as the front legs of his chair hit the floor. “Running our own show sounds good. Real good.”

“You’ve met Marc. He’s an expert in procurement and number crunching. He could be our financial officer. We might send him out on some assignments, too. He’s agile for such a big guy. Never been in the military but in top form. He does some weird Chinese shit. Think it’s called Ba Gua, it’s—”

“It has to do with palm and heel strikes,” Tom added. “Yeah. Sounds as if he could take care of himself in a blind alley. What would be our territory? What would we call ourselves?”

“Territory? Guess we’d grab as much as we could handle. Name? Been playing around with that. What about Security Solutions?”

“Off the top of my head, I like it.”

“Keep it simple. If someone’s looking in a phone book or on the internet, the first word in our name says what we do. Or… we could say A-1 Security Solutions, that way we’d be at the top of the list.”

“Good thinking.”

“I considered using our initials to make up a name, but dropped that.”

“We could have a logo made of initials,” Tom suggested. “C for Chuck, M for Marc and T for Tom. CMT?”

“Or TMC? Or MCT?” They broke into laughter.

“We’ve got time.” Chuck said. “It can’t happen overnight, but hot damn, I’m ready for a change. By the way, Giulia has agreed to marry me.”

“Great news, man. But… is she only worth a ‘by the way’?”

“‘Course not,” Chuck growled. “She’s worth the world to me. I’ve just been savoring the idea.”

“Worth savoring. It couldn’t happen to a finer man. Congrats.” Tom stood up. “Your losing altitude, ol’ buddy, and I gotta a plane to catch.”

“Stay with us next trip, and keep thinking about our security idea.”

“For sure. I imagine I’ll need to be with the project for a couple years, but after that? It’ll take you awhile to fully recover and settle things with the Force
and
with your beautiful lady. Tell her I approve, will you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Bounce your idea around with Marc. I like him. Seems a good man. By damn,” Tom said ramming his right fist into his left palm, “We’d make an awesome team. I’m feeling pumped.” He glanced at his wrist. “Okay. Must go.”

Tom held out his hand; Chuck took it. They held their grasp, looked straight into each other’s eyes, then Tom was gone.