Page 87 of Code Name: Typhon

“Nemesis is stepping up her efforts in Italy,” he reported.

“Meaning what exactly?”

“She’s invited a man named Brando Ripa to a meeting in Shere. My understanding is he has experience with the Sicilians.”

I was familiar with the name and also intimately aware of what had gone down between Mr. Ripa, the Sicilians, and the Calabrians. It had been a few years ago, and while he didn’t know it, I was the man who’d saved his life. “I thought he was in prison,” I responded.

“Quite right. However, Doc Butler arranged for his early release.”

“Fatale’s husband.”

“Again, you’re right.”

Fatale was the code name of a former SIS agent, Merrigan Shaw, who I’d campaigned hard to get to join Unit 23. At the time, she was also being considered for the job Z currently held, chief of MI6. She was one of the best agents I’d ever worked with, as was her husband, Kade “Doc” Butler. Better put, the two were legendary, as was Doc’s father, code name Burns. So why had a man considered “intelligence royalty” gotten involved with Ripa? Another question was, what did any of this have to do with Nemesis?

“I’ll ring you back from my office,” I told him, knowing this conversation was about to get more intense.

I found El in our bedroom, packing. I wrapped my arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. She smiled and looked over her shoulder.

“Change of plans?” she asked.

“Possibly. Are you terribly disappointed?”

“With the amount of time we’ve been able to spend at Casa Melro in the last few months, as well as the very few times you’ve needed to leave Brighton, I won’t complain.”

“I’ve a call, then we’ll talk more.”

I took the lift to my office and initiated the videoconference. “All right, Z. Start talking,” I said when he appeared on the screen.

“As you know, Ripa forged art for the Sicilians.”

I nodded. “He almost got himself killed by attempting to defraud the Calabrian don.”

Z’s eyes opened wide. “That’s right. I’d forgotten. You held the contract for Scaglione’s hit on him.”

It had taken a fuck of a lot of negotiating to get it called off. In the end, millions of dollars plus two priceless originals were exchanged for Ripa’s life. My involvement was concealed, of course, but I was the one who’d saved the man’s life. “Explain Doc’s involvement first.”

“Right. His daughter is a partner in an art gallery doing business in New York City. They, along with many other galleries around the world, were defrauded out of millions after originals they purchased from an auction house were found to be forgeries.”

I nodded a second time. “I’d bet anything the Sicilians are behind it.”

“Ripa agrees with you.” Suddenly, all the pieces fell into place. “Nemesis is sending Ripa undercover with the Sicilians. Doc’s goal is to prove they were behind the millions his daughter lost. Nemesis wants Ripa to gather intelligence on their involvement in trafficking.”

“In summation, yes.”

“Bloody fucking hell. I didn’t risk my neck to save his life only for her to get him killed. And that’s exactly what’s going to happen.”

When Z agreed, I ended the feed.

As if my conversation with Z had manifested it, almost a month to the day, I was notified of a meeting with the Calabrians. Their don, Valerio Scaglione, had specifically requested my attendance. I had three days to travel to Tropea, where it was being held. It was just enough time for me to plan a route that would allow my team to pick up anyone attempting to tail me.

When I arrived at the compound where the meeting was taking place, I was met by Scaglione’s consigliere, who informed me that everyone at the capo level and above would be in attendance. I thanked him for giving me advance notice of what I’d be walking into.

Technically, my alter ego, Benito Carpinelli, wasn’t a made man. Thus, some family members in attendance might question my inclusion. Not that anyone would challenge Scaglione’s decision publicly. It was more that I’d need to watch my back.

I feigned a level of unveiled disinterest throughout the meeting. Most of the discussion was above my “enforcer” pay grade. However, when I heard the acronym AMPS, my ears pricked up.

According to the capo who mentioned them, the organization who’d controlled trafficking throughout Europe and the Middle East for decades was reported to be in trouble. Not much else was said during the meeting, but afterwards, Scaglione invited me in for a private conversation.