CHAPTER 4 – The Start of a Whisper
In the morning, Simon woke up feeling refreshed after a good nights sleep. He loved his rented room. It had beautiful high ceilings and the walls were constructed from quarry stones, which had been covered internally with several frescos. The floor was made of dark timber and was partly covered by an intricate carpet that depicted a battle between the Romans and the Barbarians. Simon was excited about the possibility of a new lead. He decided to get up quickly and, after a shower, head downstairs hoping that Signor Beppe was also an early riser. After his shower, Simon was not surprised to find that everyone was still asleep: after all it was only 5 o’clock in the morning. So, instead of waiting around for everyone to wake up, Simon decided to go for a run.
He left via the back door in case the European was watching the house. At first, he stood silently looking at the back street for any sign of his pursuer. Once satisfied that he was not being watched, he slowly walked along the footpath trying to step in areas where the snow was shallowest or had already melted. As he walked towards a nearby street, he noticed a few footprints that had been left behind overnight. At first he kept an eye out for any footprints which would suggest someone moving on the spot to keep warm. Unfortunately, the only steps that displayed this pattern were in front of various doorways and did not face the house where Simon was staying. After a while Simon decided that this was a pointless exercise, as the European was a professional and would not leave such obvious tracks. And so, he started his morning run. As it was winter, the sun was just starting to rise. Although the roads were still fairly empty, Simon took the precaution to jog along smaller lanes and avoid the main streets. At times this was difficult as there were several dead ends. Eventually, Simon came across Piazza Pescheria. This was a small paved area surrounded by what looked like its own moat. The Piazza was already quite busy with people setting up stalls selling fresh fish. Simon took the opportunity to have a breather and see what local fish was available. Amongst the various stalls, Simon found himself stopping in front of one that had boxes full of fresh octopi. He bought this in addition to some other seafood that he would use to cook dinner for his host family. He stayed talking to the owner of the stall for fifteen minutes. They talked about the competitive seafood market caused by the imports of fish from Asia, politics, and a funny story about the Mayor having had a bridge built in the middle of the night to avoid a protest by the locals who were against it. In the end, as Simon looked down to wipe away the tears of laughter, he noticed that the heat from his feet had melted away an area considerably wider than his shoes. This observation prompted Simon to quickly excuse himself and sprint back home. He needed to get back there before locals started leaving their houses and disturbing overnight tracks. Taking the most direct route, Simon was back within a couple minutes. Now that he knew what to look for, it only took him a few minutes to find what he was searching for. The tracks were those of someone with a large size foot. They were located across the street from his front entrance and they indicated someone moving east to west. What caught Simon’s eye was the fact that the distance between the footprints and the nearby building were extremely close. Furthermore, at one point two of the footprints became considerably wider, almost twice the width – similar to the prints left by Simon at the fish stall. Simon had a gut feeling that the European had been standing there for approximately 25-30 minutes. Simon approached the footprints and bent down to take a closer look. He noted that one of footprints actually brushed the sidewall. Now on his knees, he looked closer at the wall where the shoe must have brushed, hoping to find a bit of leather against it. Unfortunately, there was nothing there except a tiny dark mark that might have been made from the sole of the shoe. As he was about to get up a thought occurred to him. With one finger he rubbed the mark and then brought it close to his nose. After years of living in Australia, there were several smells that Simon could never forget; one of them being the smell of eucalyptus. Simon, pleased by the recognisable smell, felt a mixture of fear and humour build within him. Fear that the European had once again found him. Humour that had started as a clever joke back in Malaysia, turned out to help him. Realising how much he was in danger, Simon decided to duck walk slowly to a nearby car and scan the area before standing up again. Once he was confident that there was nobody in sight, he stood up and briskly walked back into the house. Inside he found all of the family already up.
“What did you buy?” asked Franca in Italian referring to the plastic bags in Simon’s hands.
“I have decided to cook dinner for you tonight”, replied Simon also in Italian.
“And may I ask the chef what is on the menu?”
“Sorry Franca. That’s a surprise.”
At that point Beppe and Luigi walked in. After the initial morning greetings and small discussions about the snowfall, they all sat down for breakfast.
“So Simon, what are you planning to do today?” asked Luigi.
“I was thinking of taking him to see the Duomo and the museum,” replied Beppe with a wink in Simon’s direction.
“Papa’, I am sure that Simon would prefer do other things, rather than hang around with a pensioner!” added Luigi whilst slapping Simon on his back.
“Actually, I would love to see the Duomo!” added Simon in an attempt to defend Signor Beppe.
“Very well. Simon make sure you rug up, as it’ll be cold today and more snowfalls are predicted”, stated Luigi as he left the table for work.
After Simon and Beppe helped Franca clean up, they went back into the study. “Signor Beppe, the European was outside the house last night for approximately 25-30 minutes!” stated Simon feeling excited and scared by his discovery.
“Well done my young friend. He was indeed outside. He stood there for 20 minutes looking through his night vision binoculars.”
Simon instantly realised that in his calculation had forgotten that he had been running and his body would be radiating more heat than someone who was only walking.
“Signor Beppe, how did you determine the time?” asked Simon curiously.
“Well, I used my hidden cameras to take a snapshot of anyone walking by. Then I faxed the photos to a friend, and this morning this fax was waiting for me”, replied Beppe with a smile.
“What does it say?” asked Simon impatiently.
“Young Simon, you must always come across as patient and calm. This way your opponent will never be able to read your next move”.
“Sorry. I am finding it difficult to keep my emotions in check”, apologised Simon.
“That’s ok. You are ten times more controlled than I was at your age. Anyway, the so called European is actually Russian born. He escaped from Russia via East Berlin, where he was severely wounded by one of the German guards. He would not have made it, if it wasn’t for a British spy who was also in the midst of an escape and took him to a British safe house. After several weeks, the young Russian recovered enough to be moved to another safe house in Scotland. Initially the secret service thought that they would simply let the boy go. However, the spy that saved the teenager had other plans. After a few months of intense discussions between the head of the MI6 and the spy, the request to have the teenager trained by the British Secret Service was denied. Frustrated with the response from MI6, the spy took the teenager to Italy where he asked his own master to train him.”
For a few minutes Signor Beppe looked at Simon, letting him absorb the information.
“Signor Beppe, you were the spy’s master!” exclaimed Simon.
“Yes, I was the master. Initially I agreed to train the teenager, but very quickly was able to see what convinced MI6 that this teenager was unsuitable; he was completely driven by anger and took revenge on any person that stood in his way.”
“So what happened?”
“Well, initially I thought that I would be able to work through his anger. We would often go for long walks and discuss his past. Boys seem to be more open with their emotions whilst walking. Anyway, ove
r a few weeks, his responses changed from loud emotional outbursts, into soft spoken logical arguments. After a while, I incorrectly thought that these so call whispers were a sign that he had resolved most of his issues. As a spy he showed great skills. In fact after 6 months he began assisting me on several freelance missions. It was during this phase of his career that he started being called ‘Whisper’ by our adversaries. Stories began to circulate in the underworld that a new assassin was making his mark, and could only be identified by his soft spoken voice.”
“Assassin? But I thought you told me that you never accepted assassination missions”, questioned Simon.
“You are quite right. Unfortunately, Whisper was still very angry at the world and he took it out on his victims. He took any chance he could to eliminate any person in his way. His killings were always brutal and caused a lot of pain to his victims”.
Simon could see the sadness in Beppe’s eyes.
“After a while I realised that not only did I fail, but I now trained a brutal killer.”
“So, what happened?”
“I summoned my apprentice, who was the spy that originally brought the teenager, and asked him to eliminate Whisper.”
“What? Why?” Simon asked completely stupefied.
“Simon, Whisper was not only killing criminals that were involved with our missions, but also started venturing out at night to kill any person that carried out any criminal activity: pimps, thieves, drug dealers, loan sharks, and the list goes on.”
“So, did your apprentice accept?”
“No. He refused to take the life of such a young person.”
“What happened next?”
“My son.”
“Your son? I don’t understand.”
“After spending so many months training Whisper, Luca my son started getting jealous. Initially he thought that by working at my Pharmacy he would spend more time with me, but after a while he learned that the Pharmacy was simply a front. He also learned that Whisper was not just some orphan who I had brought into our home and given a job to at the pharmacy; he was my apprentice in a world that my son saw as a great adventure.”
“And that is why your son asked you to also train him as a spy”, mumbled Simon.
“Yes.”
“Did Whisper know this?”
“Yes. I think it was Whisper who told Luca of my second life.”
“Did Whisper get along with your kids?”
“At the time, both my daughter and my oldest son were away at boarding school in Milan. So they only saw Whisper on the odd occasion when they came back for long weekends and school holidays. However, Luca wanted to live at home and go to the local school and then university. At the time we were also renting a different house as this one was getting rebuilt and, as it is heritage listed, it took several years to complete. So Whisper and Luca spent a lot of time together. Luca looked up to Whisper, almost as an older brother; even if there was only 6 months difference in their ages.”
“Sorry Signor Beppe, but you keep on referring to Whisper by his codename. What was his birth name?”
“We don’t know. I forgot to mention that the German guard shot Whisper twice: the second bullet hitting the side of his head. Not enough to do any major damage, but enough to cause memory loss. At first we thought of giving him a name, but my wife convinced me that the boy seemed to care about his identity, and we should respect that by simply referring to him as ‘ragazzo’ (boy) ”.
“So I gather that he never remembered his name.”
“I don’t think so, but we continued to use his nickname.”
“ Did you try to eliminate him?’
“One day Whisper took me to the top of a building and asked me to look into the scope of a high powered rifle mounted on a tripod. When I looked inside, I saw the crosshairs of the scope resting on the forehead of a teenager eating an ice-cream with his girlfriend at a local ‘Gelateria’.”
“Luca!” pre-empted Simon.
“Yes. Whisper told me that he knew of my intentions and unless I retired immediately and ceased planning his killing, he would make me pay by eliminating my son.”
“So that was when you retired?”
“Yes and no. I immediately realised that even if I retired, this assassin would still be freely operating and able to come back and take Luca’s life anyway. So, I tried to kill him then and there.”
“But, he is still alive. Did he overpower you?” asked Simon, as if he was a child asking questions about a horrible bedtime story.
Signor Beppe smiled indulgently.
“You know Simon, I was not always this old frail man. During that period I was at my best. Although, Whisper was great at unarmed combat, fortunately for me he never stood a chance. The fight only lasted a few minutes, but by the end he was so beaten up that he was barely able to move.”
“I don’t understand?”
“Why if I overpowered him, is he still alive?”
“Yes.”
“Because when it came to it, I couldn’t kill him. So, I carried him downstairs and placed him in the boot of my car. I then drove to the Austrian border, where I rented a room in a nearby town. I put him in it, cleaned him up as much as I could, and left him there.”
“But weren’t you worried that he would come back for revenge?”
“Simon, children often misbehave. When this happens, parents need to discipline them, without letting them forget that they are loved. The outcome is that the child knows right from wrong, but does not feel betrayed and unloved by the parents. I did the same with Whisper. I punished him for his misbehaviour, and afterward showed him that I still cared for him.”
“Did you love him?”
“Like a son. That is probably why I tried so hard to change his behaviour.”
“Did you see Whisper after that?”
“Yes. A few weeks later I came home from work to find him sitting at the dinner table with the rest of the family. Afterwards we went for a walk, during which he wept and apologised.”
“And then?”
“After that I convinced him to leave. So, out of love, he decided to go abroad and make sure that I would never hear from him nor about his missions. That evening he stayed with us and then left the following morning.”
“Wow! That’s amazing!”
“No.”
“I still cannot believe that I have travelled half way around the world looking for my dad who is possibly a spy. Meanwhile I have ended up staying at the home of a master of spies. Not to mention that I have an assassin trying to kidnap me, that was trained by the same master. Have I missed anything?” gasped Simon whilst shaking his head in disbelief.
“I know this is a lot to take in. Not to mention the fact that it makes your mission even more complex”, answered Signor Beppe feeling guilty.
“So what is the ‘but’?” asked Simon
“I am sorry I don’t follow you.”
“Signor Beppe, I was hoping that your answer would follow with a ‘but’ something?” smiled Simon.
“I see. ‘But’ we now know who is hunting you. And, you have me to help you, which makes it two against one. I also think I know where your father’s accommodation in Treviso is”, smiled Beppe.
Whisper travelled to the airport to meet his replacement. Earlier that morning he received a dossier on Agent 5D. The photo that was sent to him was of a young man. According to the dossier, agent 5D’s father was a German banker and his mother was a lecturer of Law at Cambridge University. Agent 5D spent his first 13 years in Berlin and then moved to England, where he had spent four years completing an engineering degree at the same university as where his mother taught. Getting into university to study engineering at the age of 14, classified Agent 5D as a gifted child. Agent 5D also qualified as a marksman during his service in the British Army cadets. He had a second Dan in Jujitsu and, in addition to his native languages German and English; he also spoke French and Latin. It seemed that he first caught the eye of MI6 when he co
mpeted at the recent downhill skiing world championships where he came second. According to the dossier, at the time of the championships, MI6 had Agent 5D’s father on surveillance and that was when they had noted his son. Two months ago, Steve (surname withheld) agreed to become Agent 5D.
As Whisper was contemplating the latest orders received, Agent 5D walked out of the customs area. He was a tall, blonde, slim built teenager. Wearing a blue pin-striped suit and looked like he had just walked out of an Armani Catalogue. He had the posture of a ballroom dancer and an air of wealth. Whisper had mixed emotions about Agent 5D and could not make up his mind if he liked him or not. Either way, Whisper could not deny the fact that, although still surprised, he was now pleased to have been asked to train Agent 5D as his apprentice.
At first Whisper was going to introduce himself to the apprentice, however, at the last minute he decided to simply stand back and assess Agent 5D.
The new agent coasted to the baggage carousal and patiently waited amongst the other passengers for his luggage. He did not know what his trainer was going to look like and simply assumed that someone would approach him. Once he had collected his luggage, he looked around for a place to get himself a coffee. Unfortunately, all that was visible was a newsstand. Making the most of it, he decided to buy a local paper and see if he could pick up the language. By the time he picked up the paper, most of the passengers from his flight had departed the terminal, leaving only a few tourists who all seemed to belong to a tour group. In fact with the exception of himself and two other men, the remaining people were either on the tour, or appeared to be workers at the airport. Agent 5D, feeling somewhat exposed, decided to go and sit next to the tour group and attempt some general conversation.
Whisper, watching the young agent, found himself bemused by his attempt to disguise himself as part of the tour group. Every other passenger was carrying several bags of luggage and wearing casual clothes. Most had heavy coats in preparation for an extended time in the Italian winter, whilst Agent 5D was only wearing the suit and carrying a backpack, which could have been carried onboard instead of checking it in. Whisper, now bored, decided to simply walk up to him.
“I guess that this suit does make me stand out”, stated Agent 5D as he noticed Whisper approaching him.
“Well, at least I can commend you for your taste in clothing”, replied Whisper whilst giving a hint of a smile.
“You’ve received my dossier?”
“Yes, I have it on me.”
“So, would you mind telling me what my mother’s middle name is?”
“Adele.”
“And who sent me?”
“C”
“Great! I just wanted to make sure that I was talking to the right person as I was given no information about you.”
“Ok. Let’s go, you have some work to do.”
And with that, both agents walked to the airport car park without saying another word.
Once in the car, Whisper gave Agent 5D a map of Treviso and asked him to memorise it.
“Steve!” agent 5D called out.
“Pardon?” Whisper asked, unsure as to what prompted Agent 5D to state his own name.
“Please refer to me as Steve. Although I understand about keeping our identities unknown, I think that my first name is common enough not to pose a big risk. In fact I would be more worried about someone overhearing me being referred to as Agent 5D.”
Whisper completely agreed with him and often thought that the whole Secret Agent codename structure to be unnecessary.
Whisper envied Steve, who knew his birth name.
“Ok”, replied Whisper.
“What do I call you?” asked Steve.
“I don’t care”, whispered his trainer.
“Do you have a name you go by?”
“No. In my line of work the name used by the agency is ‘Whisper’.”
“Whisper? I thought all agents used the number and letter code system.”
‘Not true. Only agents recruited by the agency are given a code. Freelancers are not.”
“You are a freelancer? Freelancing for who?” asked Steve bewildered by this bit of information.
“Whoever pays me.”
“So, does that mean you would do work for both sides?”
“Both sides? I see, you think this is NATO versus non-NATO countries”, whispered the agent with a smile.
“No of course not! I realise that there are many criminal organisations in the world that the agency needs to worry about. But if one of the terrorist cells or an underground criminal agency requests your service, does that mean that you would work for them?”
“Firstly, I don’t work for criminals. Secondly, you and I might have a different understanding of who a ‘criminal’ is. Thirdly, there is more money in keeping oneself in the good books of major world powers, so I mostly work for governments and I go out of my way not to accept conflicting missions. One day I might work for the British government versus Russia, and the next vice versa.”
“And they are ok with it?”
“No they are not. But it is convenient for them. You see, they never tell me anything that I do not need to know. I only get asked to fix issues and I am not given any strategic work; they approach me as a last resort.”
“I have to say that I am not comfortable with this.”
“I honestly don’t care how you feel. But, if it makes you feel any better, consider me a lawyer; only one party can be represented on a case, all information is kept in confidentiality, and I only get given small cases.”
“Small cases?”
“In the movies my main role would often be referred to as the ‘cleaner’.”
“As in an assassin?”
“Although, I often have to eliminate targets, the main focus is cleaning up the mess of other agents.”
“And does the agency employ many freelancers?”
“No! Only five that I know of.”
“And are they all used in the same manner as you?”
“Well, other than myself, the latest news is that only one other freelance agent is still alive. However, he is now retired.”
“So, why would I be sent to you for my training? Why not send me through the same training regime as other spies?”
“That is the first good question that you have asked this morning. I asked myself the same question.”
And with that response both agents did not speak again until they reached the hotel.
Simon was travelling as fast as the legal limit would allow him. He could not believe that Signor Beppe, a random find in the paper, turned out to be such a great asset to find his father. So far, Signor Beppe had proven to be a great mentor. He was pleasant and informative, and he had a calming effect during a turbulent phase of Simon’s life. Simon was still unsure how everything seemed to fall into place: the assistance by Inspector Lau, the Malaysian pilot, the Italian officer on the plane, and finding accommodation in the house of an old spymaster. At any other time, Simon would have taken a moment and slowed down to scrutinise the recent events. However, right now none of it mattered as he was finally going to be reunited with his father.
They arrived at the Caffe’ Donati within minutes. As Simon stepped off the Vespa, Signor Beppe held onto his arm to indicate that he would be taking the lead. As they entered the Caffe’, the owner instantly greeted Signor Beppe with the standard “Buon giorno dottore”.
Signor Beppe replied with a big smile and a slap on the back. After a quick introduction to Simon, he asked if they could have somewhere quiet where they could speak.
The owner looked around his Caffe’. There were only a couple of pensioners playing “Scopa”, a local Italian card game. He smiled at Beppe and in Italian asked “is this quiet enough?” joked the owner in Italian.
“Do they ever go home?” asked Signor Beppe referring to the pensioners who over the years had become part of the furniture.
“Don’t laugh Beppe, you are not far off yourself”, re
plied the owner with a smile.
The three of them sat down and Giorgio, the owner, called out to one of his staff for three espresso coffees.
“What brings you this early in the morning Beppe?”
“Giorgio, do you still rent your room upstairs?”
“Beppe, that room has not been occupied since you last used it after getting drunk ten years ago.”
“That was not a proud moment”, said Beppe sheepishly.
“Young man, make sure you keep ‘grappa’ away from Beppe. He has a real taste for it.”
“Really? I thought he only drank coffee and water”, stated Simon jokingly.
“Well, ‘grappa’ is blessed water”, added Giorgio with a smile.
“Giorgio, you are the most honest person that I know. But I also know that unless I ask the exact question, you are not one to give away any information.”
“Come, come Beppe, you make me sound like a thief!” smiled Giorgio.
“Giorgio, lets not get into how you made your money to buy this Caffe'”’ Beppe returned a smile.
“Ok, ok, what else would you like to know?” replied Giorgio raising his hands as if to signal that he was giving up.
“Is the room upstairs being rented out to anyone?” asked Beppe, this time seriously.
“No. I haven’t rented it for over 15 years.”
Simon, thinking for a second about the two answers whilst interrupted by the waiter bringing them the coffees, suddenly realised what should be asked next.
“Signor Giorgio, you mentioned that you don’t rent the room but you let friends use it. Is there a friend of yours who is currently using the room, or the room is reserved for?”
“I don’t understand why my old room is so important to you two”, responded Giorgio avoiding the question.
“Giorgio, the young man here has travelled the world to find his father. Until a few days ago Simon thought his dad was dead. Unfortunately, he found out the truth from his mother on the same day that she told him she was dying.”
Giorgio’s face suddenly saddened. “Young man, I am truly sorry about your mamma. Before I can be totally honest with you, I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Sure!” replied Simon feeling a surge of hope growing within him.
“What makes you think your papa’ is using the room upstairs?”
Simon, seeing that Signor Beppe completely trusted Giorgio, told him about the book that his dad had sent to his mum.
“That’s a great book. I, in fact, picked it for your papa.”
Simon wanted to say something but all he could sum up were tears.
Giorgio and Beppe, knowing what this meant, sat quietly allowing Simon time to recompose.
“Is my dad in town?” asked Simon still struggling to stop the tears.
“No. But he was here a week ago.”
“Would you know when he is coming back?”
“He is not coming back.”
“What?”
“I am sorry but he called last night to let me know that he suspects that this location has been compromised.”
“Did he tell you where he was calling from?” asked Beppe
“No. Beppe you should know better than to ask that question.” replied Giorgio, surprised that such a question came from his friend.
“Giorgio, I was hoping that Simon’s father would have at least left a lead for his family to find him, because right now they have a book that leads to a dead end.”
“Sorry Beppe, I forgot about your history with.” Giorgio commenced before being interrupted by a stern stare from Beppe
“History with who or what?” asked Simon alerted by the interruption.
“Simon, I will answer you in due time, but right now we need to determine where your papa is” replied Beppe
“Ok. Giorgio, did my dad leave a clue to his current location?”
“Maybe. He said that his run had come to an end, and that next time he would see me, would be for a social occasion.”
“Anything else?”
“Actually he did say something that was a tad weird. He said that he could finally have his dream honeymoon.”
“Dream honeymoon! What does he mean by that?” asked Simon
“I am not sure,” replied Giorgio
“Giorgio, could we see the room upstairs?” asked Beppe after a moment of silence.
“Sure, you know where to go.”
Simon thanked Giorgio, and then followed Beppe through a door behind the bar that leads to a set of stairs. At the top of the stairs there was a corridor that gave access to several doors. Beppe walked to the middle door, and signalled Simon to lead the way into the bedroom.
The room was comprised of a single bed, a desk located near the only window, a closet and a small sink. Whilst Simon stood silently in the centre of the room staring at the bed, Beppe checked the closet and the desk for any clues that might have been left behind.
“You know Signor Beppe, this is the closest I have been to my dad in a very long time,” said Simon silently.
“Don’t worry, I promise that I will help you find your papa if it’s the last thing that I do.”
“Signor Beppe, why didn’t you tell me that you knew my dad?” asked Simon still staring at the bed.
“I am sorry. But I thought that telling you this was not going to help.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Well, when you first told me about your father, you were still frightened from your kidnapping attempt. I was worried that if I told you that I had trained your father, you might have been spooked by the coincidence and made a run for it.”
Simon never responded, they now both just sat on the side of the bed looking out the window at the piazza below.
After a few minutes Simon spoke.
“You are probably right. In fact I am still worried about all the fortunate events that have led me to this point. If I wasn’t so desperate to find my father, I would think it was all a setup.”
“I‘ve also been thinking about this. I don’t believe in coincidences, someone wanted you to find me.”
“But how?”
“Well, your family friend in Malaysia gave you equipment that is virtually impossible to find outside the spy world. The plane flight was initially supposed to land in Germany and head back, but it was diverted to Italy to an airport near Treviso. On the flight to Treviso you met an Italian officer who was very helpful and, after giving you a newspaper with local accommodation advertisement, suggested that you stay in a pensione.”
“That’s true. But that does not explain why I picked yours out of all of the accommodation available.”
“I can. Until the day before you called, I had another man staying with us. One evening he came back and told us that he had apparently won first prize in a raffle he had entered back in England and that his family had only just noticed the letter. As the prize was a 3 month holiday around Europe departing Milan the next day, he had to leave that night. The following day I re-advertised the room. When Franca read the paper, she noticed that the paper had made a mistake, and gave us the largest size advertisement. And the ad was placed first in the listing, even though alphabetically we should have appeared somewhere in the middle.”
“Signor Beppe, I have to admit that you were the first and only place I called, but someone else could have beaten me to it.”
“Yes, I thought about that as well. Someone could have simply tapped our phone to ensure that all calls received a busy tone with the exception of your call. All it would have then taken was for someone to follow you, and then call the tapping agent when you made your call.”
“Maybe. Although it does sound a bit far fetched,” stated Simon sceptically.
“Welcome to the spy world!”
“Does that mean, that in addition to the people wanting to kidnap me, there is someone wanting me to find my dad? I don’t know which is worse.”
“The two groups could be one and the same.”
?
??I don’t understand. How can someone want me to succeed and fail at the same time?”
“I don’t know, and I’m not saying that there aren’t two separate groups of people either.”
“Signor Beppe, I’d appreciate it if you could fill me in about what you know about my dad.”
“It’s funny how life plays out! Yesterday I agreed to train the son of one of my previous students.”
“You taught my dad to be a spy?” asked Simon stupefied by the news.
“Your papa had amazing qualities that allowed him to be the perfect spy. His ability to thrive in such a risky career was unbelievable to say the least. I didn’t train your papa; I merely gave him confidence in his own abilities.”
“So my dad is a freelance spy like you?”
“No. Although your papa initially worked for me, he only accepted missions which aided his homeland.”
“England!” stated Simon
“Yes. After a few years, the British secret service asked your papa to become a full-time agent for them.”
“Wow! My dad is an MI6 agent!” Simon proudly said to himself.
“Yes and no. At the time MI6 were worried about a spy within their organisation. So, when they recruited your father, they decided to keep him a secret within the MI6. In fact only a handful of directors knew of your father, and only two of them knew who he was. However, in order to keep him a secret, they decided to have your father remain a freelancer. Your father, as part of his freelancing image, in addition to MI6 missions had to also undertake ‘other’ missions. Needless to say that the ‘other’ jobs had to be cleared by MI6 first. Fortunately for your father, freelancing work did make him a lot of money.”
“When was the last time you saw my dad?”
“Your father used to visit me two to three times a year. That was until he met your mother. The day he met her he called me and informed me that he was quitting. He knew that one day he would place his loved ones at risk. As I was a link to his life as a spy, he could no longer visit me. Several years later, one of my MI6 contacts informed me that your father had died. One of the saddest moments in my life.”
“Although many years have passed, I still have nightmares about the funeral” added Simon remembering the sense of loss he had experienced.
“As do I. I was at the funeral. I remember looking at you sitting next to your mother and thinking how much you looked like your father. I so wanted to come and meet you, but I didn’t know how to introduce myself.”
“I have no intention of following in my dad’s footsteps. I am grateful for what you’re teaching me, but I only intend to use these skills to evade my pursuer, and hopefully find my dad.”
“It’s the only reason why I have offered to help you. The idea of training another spy would simply re-open old wounds.”
“I just realised something else. The spy who brought you the teenager rescued from the Berlin wall, was in fact my dad! And now that teenager is using all of the skills you taught him to kidnap me,” accused Simon.
“I am so sorry.”
“By any chance are there any other spies who you‘ve trained and I should be aware of?” smiled Simon feeling guilty about his previous accusation
“Fortunately not!” replied Signor Beppe with a smile understanding what Simon was attempting to do.
“Ok. So, we now need to understand if my dad did in fact leave a clue as to his whereabouts.”
“My sixth sense twitched when I heard the mention of the honeymoon,” stated Beppe looking expectantly at Simon
“Before I left Malaysia, mum mentioned a place my dad wanted to show her. He told her that it was a place many Italians go to for their honeymoons, and that it’s not frequented by many tourists.”
“I am sorry to say, there are many places that your father might have been referring to. In this region alone I can think of about 50 such places.”
“He did also mention that it was somewhere in central Italy, and that the town was surrounded by the walls of a castle. He also told my mum that unfortunately it would mean long drives to see the sea.”
“Ok. Now we are getting somewhere. Anything else? There are several castle towns in central Italy.”
“Yes! He made a joke about skyscrapers of the 13th century.”
And with that response Signor Beppe burst into loud laughter.
“Your papa had a unique way of seeing things. My dear young apprentice, your father was referring to San Gimignano.”
“I‘ve never heard of it.”
“It is a beautiful town built on a hill not far from Siena. The town is enveloped by a castle wall and is unique by the numerous towers built over the years. From memory I think the towers were built to assist with the internal battles. I can see how your father might have thought of them as skyscrapers of the 13th century, as they are very close to one another.”
“What is the best way to get there?”
“Via road.”
“Ok, then I‘ll leave immediately.”
“Not a good idea. We still have to make sure that you are not followed. You’ll also need a map.”
Once Steve dropped his bag at the hotel, he and Whisper travelled to a nearby car rental place, and hired two motorcycles. As Steve did not have a car license he had to settle for a Vespa, whilst Whisper rented a powerful Honda. Steve, armed with a photo of Simon, was then told to go and scout out one of the two accommodations where Whisper had been the previous night. Steve was also instructed to simply follow Simon. Whisper then proceeded to the second accommodation.
Simon and Beppe entered the house via the back door and immediately raced upstairs. Once upstairs, Beppe used the maps that they had just purchased to show the two routes they would use to go to San Gimignano. The plan would be for Beppe to make sure Simon would not be followed when he left. Simon would take the longer of the two routes, giving Beppe time to arrive first at their destination. Beppe could then ensure that no agent was setting a trap. Once packed, they went downstairs and said goodbye to Franca under the pretence of a boys’ week away. Franca, knowing too well not to ask questions about her father-in-law’s adventures, simply told them to have fun.
Steve arrived at the house excited about his first mission as a secret agent. He was not too pleased about being assigned to an assassin, but he was sure that MI6 had a valid reason for the decision. He stopped his scooter at the front of the house and decided to squat next to it. His intention was to make it look like his bike had broken down and he was trying to fix it. After a while, he decided to take a walk and see if the house had a back entrance.
Simon walked outside with Beppe and helped him pack his bag into the car. Signor Beppe owned a white BMW 525i. Although the car would have stood out in Malaysia, in Italy it seemed to be fairly common.
Steve, standing at the opposite side of the street, immediately identified Simon. He witnessed the teenager help the older man with his bag and say his goodbyes. Steve speed dialled Whisper who responded before the first ring was complete.
“Found him!” exclaimed triumphantly Steve.
“Great, I am on my way!”
“He’s leaving!” Steve felt exuberant. He wanted to prove to Whisper that he could easily overtake Simon.
“Ok. Just follow him.”
“I can take him now!”
“NO! Just follow him! Acknowledge?” Whisper shouted into his hands-free mobile as he sped down the street towards Steve’s location.
However, instead of responding, Steve feeling confident that this would be child’s play, made the decision to take the target now. His plan was to knock Simon unconscious and, most likely, the old man as well. He would close the house gate so that no passer by would be witness to this. He would then tie both of them and move them into the house, where hopefully there would be nobody else, and if there were he would take them out as well.
Simon proceeded to start his Vespa, whilst scrutinizing outside of the gate. He noticed a teenager crossing the road. He was wearing
a suit, which in itself was out of place, but there was also something else peculiar about him. However, Simon was concerned about Whisper and decided to ignore the alarm going off in his head. He released the clutch and slowly made his way through the courtyard towards the gate. As he approached the gate, he surprised himself by thinking that the teenager’s suit looked of British cut.
Steve, trying to act as casual as possible, moved to the entrance of the gate attempting to look lost. He waved Simon down asking for his assistance.
Simon, was feeling uncomfortable, all sorts of alarms going off in his head, as he noticed the teenager waving him down.
Steve realised that he needed to strike quickly; the old man was now also walking towards the gate at a fast pace.
Steve’s move was swift and without warning, but somehow Simon instinctively lifted his arm to block the kick from the teenager. However, the impact of the kick was sufficient to knock him off the bike. Simon was not going to give his assailant another opportunity to strike. He extended his right leg connecting his heel with knee of the well dressed teenager. Steve, feeling his knee giving way, went with the fall and simply rolled across the gravel back onto his feet. As Steve regained balance from the roll, he swung his right arm and drove his fist towards Simon who was flipping onto his feet. The punch connected with his cheekbone, but had minimal impact on Simon, as his reflexes were quick enough for him to change direction of his body, and carry out a backward summersault in the direction of the punch. Steve, surprised by the change of direction, took a few quick steps to close the distance between the two of them, before Simon could retreat any further. Simon, once again changed direction of travel, took a step forward and drove his right foot in a roundhouse style towards the assailant’s face. Steve, taken by surprise by Simon’s aggressive manoeuvre, had little time to react and simply managed to place his right hand in front of his face in the hope to provide some cushioning from the impact. This was not enough, the impact of the kick transferred through his hand and onto his face, resulting in a strong pain to his right temple. Trying to regain momentum, Steve dropped to one knee whilst kicking the other leg up towards Simon’s crotch. Steve, satisfied by the kick, proceeded to drive a hook punch with his right arm but missed as Simon dropped. Simon’s advantage was then instantly lost as Steve’s foot came up towards the crotch region, which instinctively made both of Simon’s hands come down in order to protect himself. Steve, realising that his kick would not have the desired affect, instantly let himself fall completely to the ground, thus allowing him to use the other leg to kick Simon’s knee. Simon never had a chance to react and felt his knee collapsing beneath him. As he hit the ground, all of the oxygen was expelled from Simon’s lungs. Before he could take a breath, a second blow connected with his stomach, making Simon gasp for air whilst losing his senses. Steve, having the upper hand again, flipped himself onto his feet before Simon could get up. He then kicked Simon in the ribs. Steve was determined to cause as much damage as he could, before the old man could come to his opponent’s aid. He managed to kick Simon a few more times both to the face and the ribs.
Beppe’s arrival could not have been better timed; he threw his whole weight onto the assailant, thus spoiling the kick that would have most likely knocked Simon unconscious. Steve was prepared to counter attack the old man, but Beppe’s change of pace in the last few steps had taken him by surprise. The blow caused by the old man’s tackle made Steve fall on top of Simon. Simon, now completely winded, was unable to summon the energy required to stand up. Both Beppe and Steve used the momentum of the fall to roll forward onto their feet. Steve, realising that he had underestimated the old man, decided to attempt to neutralise his new adversary before returning back to Simon. Steve and Beppe quickly closed in, whilst throwing a barrage of punches at each other. Every punch was blocked and retaliated with another punch. Although Steve was able to block every single punch, he was unable to have any of his blows find a target. Simon, now finally feeling air flowing back into his lungs, stood up. During the ongoing barrage of blows between Steve and Beppe, the pair had managed to slowly move away from the gate and towards the back door of the house.
“JUST GO!” Beppe shouted as he ducked another punch.
“Hold on! I’m coming!” responded Simon as he struggled to regain his balance.
It was then that Beppe managed to grip both of Steve’s hands. He pulled his opponent towards himself, and managed to head-butt Steve. Steve felt himself faint.
“Stick to the plan Simon! I’ll be ok!’ called out Beppe now standing over Steve who had collapsed to the ground.
Simon, surprised by Beppe’s fighting skills, fought against his urges to go to the rescue. He immediately picked up his Vespa which still had the motor running and took off through the gate.
Steve was quickly regaining consciousness. He took advantage of the fact that the old man was distracted by Simon’s departure and kicked his legs with all of his available strength. Beppe, angry with himself for being distracted, could not do anything but simply throw his arms back to reduce the impact of the fall. Steve, aware that he had no time to waste, took a second kick aimed at the chest of his opponent. He was hoping that it would wind the old man and allow him enough time to break away from the fight and chase his primary target. Beppe saw the second kick, but was unable to react as he was still falling. The little oxygen that Beppe had left in his lungs, after Steve’s foot had connected with his chest, was expelled as he fell to the ground.
Steve started running towards his Vespa, not caring to check if the second kick had had its desired affect. Within a minute, he was on his scooter and in pursuit of Simon. Steve, was aware of the distance Simon would have already gained, and quickly switched on his Global Positioning System tracking device, to determine the best way to catch up to his target.
Whisper, frustrated by the lack of discipline shown by his trainee, found himself wishing that he could swap the two teenagers. He had been very impressed by Simon’s composure.
As Whisper reached the front of Beppe’s home he received a phone call from Steve.
“WHERE ARE YOU?” yelled Whisper feeling exasperated by his trainee.
“I’m in pursuit.”
“Does he know he is being followed?”
“No. I have a tracking device on him.”
“What happened at the house?”
“I had him, but someone else intervened.”
“What? An accomplice?”
“No. I think he was his host. I have taken care of it.”
“Ok. Don’t let yourself be seen. Keep your distance.”
“Why? I can take him.”
“Don’t be a fool. You are on a scooter and the streets are busy. Once you have him, how do you intend to carry him without being seen?”
“Ok. I’ll just follow him from a distance” replied Steve, although had no intention of doing so - it was a matter of pride.
“I’ll head back to the rental company and pick up a van. I’ll find my way to you and we’ll plan the kidnapping for tonight,” instructed Whisper feeling himself gaining some control over his student.
“Roger.”
“Out!”
Simon felt adrenalin flowing through his body. He could also feel twinges of pain that seem to contribute to the exhilaration and driving him to accelerate.
Simon finally managed to get onto the A27 freeway that he would take south before veering west onto the A4 to Milano. Once there, he would again veer south onto the A35 towards San Gimignano.
Simon had no awareness that Steve was only one metre behind him.