BONG! BONG! BONG!

  I uncovered my ears as we climbed the never ending steps of a bell tower, nestled in a much less traveled part of Rome, the sound dissipating, but not my headache, as we ascended the darkened and winding stone steps of the musty interior stairwell, up to the top.

  “Is this really ideal for a meet up location?” I groaned, rubbing my ears with tender affection.

  “I wouldn’t have picked it, no,” Jack sounded off, seeming nonetheless pleased at the choice as well. “Just a temporary spot for in-person discussion.”

  We reached the top and Jack nodded at me, in understanding, before cranking open the roughshod wood door slightly.

  Peering inside, Elliott was the first to look up from his phone. “You’ve made it!” He shouted jubilantly.

  It was much more spacious than I expected. Large open areas around the bell to walk around and quite a drop below it to elevate my blood pressure.

  Patty our lovable secretly rounded the corner and gave me a big hug, squeezing tight. “My dear, how I’ve missed you! So glad you’re safe!”

  “You too,” I smiled tightly, patting her on the back back, as she released me to breathe again.

  I looked around for any others, before spotting Beckman waltzing over in a dark blue suit.

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  “It’s rather fortuitous that you are both alive and well,” he stated, lacking inflection. “How fortunate we are.”

  “What about Angus...” I asked, my nervous eyes bouncing around the space and categorizing the uneasy expressions plastered across everyone's face...except for Beckman, who remained his stoic self. “And Natalya?”

  “No contact from Agent McCullogh, I’m afraid.” Beckman said. “Agent Dubrovka was placed around the perimeter of our location to monitor security precautions. A safeguard if you may.”

  “Wouldn’t it be better if she were here?” I retorted with genuine thought. “For all of us?”

  Beckman tilted his glasses to look at me sternly, before removing them and revealing a white cotton handkerchief from his interior breast pocket of his suit jacket. He quickly wiped the lenses , with a certain delicate touch, before polishing the blackened trim of his frames. Just as rapidly as he had done the act, were his tools returned to their rightful spots, and his spectacles re-affixed upon his face . “What exactly are you implying, Miss Hart?”

  “Well,” I choked up. “We already lost the base, one friend, and my Father. Wouldn’t it be safer...”

  “Yes, you’re Father,” Beckman cut me off. “Brings me to my next point of questioning. Why were you two off in Geneva. And secondly," he paused, "Where is my Aston Martin?”

  “Those...” I stalled, a lump in my throat. “Those are two great questions.” I looked back at Jack, my mouth twitching with the lack of sound reasoning about to come out of it with my answer.

  “Well,” Jack started up, “It was all over the news...that scandalous villain Tito Braunze escaped from prison recently...”

  I palmed my face, to half cover my embarrassment, and to stifle the laughter that would emanate from it.

  “Enough.” Beckman snapped. “This farce goes no further.

  The room went silent, as I shuddered in shame.

  “The asset being eliminated...” Beckman said.

  “Hey,” Jack cut him off, “that’s her Father. Show some—“

  “Yes, that’s all good and well,” Beckman said. “I do have my reservations about this incident though.”

  “It was the hitman,” I said, quietly.

  “So I’ve been told,” Beckman chided. “Yet, the two of you were onsite for another issue. Another fitting coincidence.”

  My brow raised in confusion. “What are you saying?”

  “Not you, Miss Hart...” he started back up, his eyes rolling to Jack. “Perhaps...someone...” he shifted his body and levied a cold-hearted and speculative glare at Jack,” was already compromised.