Italy Seminar (3)
Water boiled furiously inside the pot, rattling against the sides.
Alessia tossed a handful of salt into the water and laid the pasta in, spreading the strands apart. Watching them sink slowly into the heat, she lowered the flame beneath the neighboring burner.
On the pan, a sauce of tomatoes, olive oil, and basil simmered gently.
Wiping her hands on her apron, Alessia turned toward the table.
Two freshly polished plates and a set of cutlery had been arranged neatly across the tabletop.
She glanced at the phone she’d set there and checked it again.
A text to Jason. It had clearly been read, and yet there was still no reply.
Is he stuck in traffic?
At first, she hadn’t thought much of it.
Naples was notorious for its evening traffic jams, and a traveler from America could easily have gotten lost crossing the city.
Beep-beep-beep—
The timer rang. The pasta was done.
Alessia turned off the heat, tossed the pasta with the sauce, and plated it. Then she tapped the screen of her phone.
[You’re almost here—where are you?]
She hit send and waited.
Even as more time slipped by, there was no sound of the front door opening.
Alessia’s brows drew together slightly. She tapped the screen again.
[You’re not lost, are you?]
She sat down in a dining chair and idly traced the slender stem of her wineglass with her fingers.
Outside, the sky over Naples was sinking from red into deep navy.
[Please answer me. The food’s getting cold.]
As the minutes passed, the pasta cooled and began to swell and turn soft.
She sent one more message, but still there was no reply.
Tap. Tap.
Staring down at her phone, Alessia’s expression gradually began to change.
At first it had been irritation, confusion, and anger, but now a flicker of unease slipped through it.
Because all of this felt far too familiar.
“No way…”
Alessia shot to her feet, snatched up her phone, and dialed a number from her contacts.
The other end picked up before the line had even finished ringing.
“Alessia.”
“Uncle, you didn’t do anything to Jason, did you?”
For a moment, silence stretched across the line.
Alessia knew instinctively that the brief pause was as good as an admission.
When Marco finally answered, his voice was low and calm.
“We only had a little talk.”
That offhand tone instantly sharpened Alessia’s voice.
“Ha. A little talk?”
Her fingertips trembled.
“Damn it, how many times is this? Leave me alone already!”
Marco seemed about to say something else, but Alessia ended the call on the spot.
Even then, the anger didn’t leave her. She drew a rough breath.
“Huff.”
That damned family of hers had certainly given her a life of wealth and comfort, but it had also shackled her to a life that could never be ordinary.
How many times had she struggled to break free of it all?
Whenever she tried to meet ordinary people and live an ordinary life, the ending was always the same.
Because once people learned about her family, none of them stayed by her side.
“...Alessia, Ferrante.”
She murmured her own name under her breath.
Especially that hateful family name. Ferrante.
“Haah.”
Covering her face with both hands, Alessia sank into the chair.
Then she checked her phone screen again.
Still no reply.
Drip. Drip.
She stared at the overcooked pasta, then filled her wineglass to the brim all by herself.
A short sigh drifted away over the rim of the glass.
***
Several days had passed since then.
I was lying sprawled on the worn-out sofa of the safe house, sunk deep into it.
After reporting the situation to McKinnon just in case, I’d gone completely underground.
Click.
The safe house door opened, and McKinnon came in.
Without a word, he tossed the stack of documents and the tablet he was carrying onto the table.
Thud.
I sat up, and he pulled out a chair, dropped into it, and spread the papers open.
McKinnon pointed at one face photo in the file with a finger and said in a flat voice, “That guy you met. After checking, it turns out he’s one of the Ferrante Clan’s key men—Marco Conti. He worked with the previous boss, and now he’s at odds with Nicola Ferrante, the one currently running the clan. If Nicola’s the new blood, then this one’s basically the more restrained old guard.”
As if mafia bastards were somehow different from one another.
McKinnon muttered something like that with a cynical curl to his mouth, then jabbed Marco’s photo with his knuckles.
“And that woman you mentioned.”
He broke off for a moment and looked up at me, staring hard.
A crooked smile tugged at his lips.
“Alessia, was it? How interesting—her last name is… ‘Ferrante.’”
Oh, hell. That was a far bigger and far more fucked-up surprise than I’d imagined.
I could already feel a dull ache starting in my head when McKinnon, clearly enjoying himself, added, “By the way, our target Nicola Ferrante happens to have exactly one blood relative left. A half-sister, and her name is ‘Alessia Ferrante.’ What a fucking coincidence.”
I couldn’t even bear to look at his face. I covered my eyes with my palm.
In a cheerfully uncharacteristic tone, he added, “Congratulations, Lee. You’ve gone and slept with the daughter of a former mafia boss and the half-sister of the current one. Ha, now this is getting interesting.”
A brief silence settled over the safe house.
I pinched the bridge of my nose and spoke quietly.
“Should I go back to the U.S. right now?”
At that, McKinnon couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing.
He looked delighted by my misery.
“Hah! What are you talking about? This is a great opportunity, Lee. Since it’s come to this, let’s do some proper spy shit. Like fucking 007. Seduce the target’s sister.”
“Fuck. Are you serious?”
This guy was insane.
I glared at him, and McKinnon finally stopped laughing, answering in a slightly lighter tone.
“It’s no big deal. Just keep doing what you’ve been doing, playboy. Seems Alessia has no real influence inside the Ferrante Clan anyway. She doesn’t even have much contact with Nicola, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”
He closed the file with a lazy flick of his hand and tipped his chin toward me.
“Still, if you keep hanging around her long enough, maybe a good opportunity will fall into your lap.”
With that, McKinnon stood and grabbed his coat.
As he walked toward the safe house door, he took the handle, then looked back at me with a grin.
“Now get out there and seduce the Bond girl. Shake loose whatever information we need too. Jason Lee.”
Click.
No goodbye. Not that there ever was.
What a circus.
Alone now, I pulled my phone from my pocket.
The screen was full of messages from Alessia.
I still hadn’t replied for days.
[Meet me at the bar tomorrow morning.]
I typed it out and hit send.
Hell if I knew what I was doing.
***
The next morning.
I arrived at Vito’s bar earlier than usual.
I was leaning against the counter, drinking espresso as always, when—
Jingle—
The door opened, and Alessia stepped inside.
Only she looked nothing like her usual bold, unruly self.
“Ah.”
She hesitated just inside the doorway, then came in with a faint, awkward shuffle that was completely unlike her.
She seemed unable to say anything, her lips parting and closing a few times in embarrassment. It was a strangely unfamiliar sight.
Seeing her like that made me snort.
Then I picked up the cornetto left on the display shelf and said, “Looks like I win today.”
She froze at that.
I took another casual sip of espresso.
Only then did Alessia’s tense expression loosen a little, and she carefully came to stand beside me.
“...Jason.”
She seemed to be choosing her words for quite a while before speaking again.
“That man you met the other night… he’s actually my uncle, but… I don’t know what he told you, anyway, I’m really sorry.”
Keeping her head slightly bowed, Alessia began to explain.
Her family wasn’t exactly normal. And after her father died, her uncle had raised her like a parent. Which meant he was horribly overprotective.
“...If you want, I’ll never show up in front of you again. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, and if I scared you, I’m sorry.”
She bit her lip as she said it.
She looked both pitiable and a little ridiculous, and I let out a small laugh.
Either way, I needed to keep this relationship going for now.
So, in a deliberately absurd tone, I answered her and cleared up the misunderstanding at the same time.
“Have you been watching too many movies? That’s a little self-absorbed, don’t you think?”
She blinked at me, momentarily speechless.
I mixed half truth and half lie when I added, “I was just out on a few days’ trip. Even I can’t answer right away, you know. I got hauled off in the middle of the night and was even warned to be careful. Right?”
Then I shrugged and asked with easy nonchalance, “Judging by your reaction, you must’ve missed me pretty badly?”
For a moment, Alessia just stared up at me blankly.
Then, slowly, the corners of her mouth lifted, and she found her usual expression again.
“...What are you talking about? I was just worried.”
There. That was more like her.
No—it was a little brighter than usual.
“Anyway. I’ll buy you something good as an apology. Come on.”
She took the lead and tugged me by the arm.
Again, her arm naturally wound through mine.
I didn’t bother pulling away and simply matched her stride.
That day, we ate lunch together and spent a long time walking the streets of Naples.
Maybe because the mood had finally relaxed, Alessia talked about her family with a fair bit of ease.
She even told me outright that she was a Ferrante.
“Alessia Ferrante. That’s my name.”
“Is this suddenly an introduction session? I’m Jason Lee. There, satisfied?”
“...Ha. Seriously. Fine.”
I could feel her checking my expression every so often, but I just played along and kept the conversation going.
At the same time, I quietly stored away every word and every name she tossed out without thinking.
There’ll be some use for it somewhere.
***
A week passed like that.
Almost nothing had changed in my daily routine.
The only real difference was that I was spending a lot more time with Alessia.
We ate lunch together, went for walks, and sometimes the day ran all the way into dinner.
We’d look down over the sea from the Posillipo hill or slip through the narrow alleys of Spaccanapoli while buying desserts along the way. That sort of thing, over and over, like an ordinary string of days.
Thanks to this, I’m actually getting a proper Naples tour.
By then, I’d decided to just think of it as a vacation.
An indulgent Italian holiday, paid for with CIA funds no less.
Not bad. Honestly, I thought it was a pretty sweet deal.
Of course, that didn’t mean I wasn’t doing any work at all.
Once I’d learned Alessia was a Ferrante, I’d started listening more carefully on my own.
There was always a chance she’d let something useful slip by accident.
But what came out of her mouth was really nothing special.
Just that her uncle’s health was poor, that she had no interest in clan business, and that she and her half-brother Nicola truly didn’t get along.
“I haven’t seen that bastard’s face in years. He’s just some stranger, so I don’t care.”
She added that quickly, probably worried I might feel uneasy.
That was about it, so there wasn’t much worth reporting, and I felt strangely awkward about the whole thing.
[No unusual activity.]
Whenever I sent that as a report, McKinnon’s answer came back short.
He acknowledged it and told me to keep watching.
That was the end of it.
Nothing to do but wait, I guess.
Information didn’t just appear because I wanted it to.
Still, I was sure there wasn’t much hope in a situation like this.
Honestly, it’d be nice if something blew up for once.
That afternoon, on the seventh day.
Alessia and I were sitting side by side at an outdoor café in the city.
“Hee-hee, what a stupid thing to say.”
She burst out laughing at a joke I’d just made.
And then, in that exact same instant, a black sedan slid into the mouth of the alley.
Screeech.
The car came to a violent stop in front of the café, and at the same time—
My senses reacted before my mind did.
The door swung open, and a man burst out from inside.
The angle of his shoulders as he threw his weight forward, the movement of his wrist as his hand went for something at his waist—
A gun.
Alessia’s voice, still laughing, seemed to drift far away.
I shoved the table hard enough to knock it toward the wall and yanked Alessia down to the floor with me.
Bang!
The table went rolling sideways, and the plate on top crashed to the ground and shattered into pieces.
Just as the eyes of the Alessia in my arms widened at the sight of it all—
BANG!
A gunshot rang out.