Not even a day had passed since my visit to the police station when I received urgent summons to the Casa Viscontini.

  This time we met in the dining hall, and by we I mean Vittore, Elda, and myself. The other two were already seated by the time I arrived.

  Elda looked far more depressed than she had when I first met her. Contrary to her, Vittore did not seem to have undergone any significant changes.

  This confirmed my speculation. Whatever plans Vittore had about the future of the Viscontini household, he was the only one in the know; his cousins were being kept in the dark regarding his arrangements.

  “I feel it’s best to discuss a course of action before we start the search,” Vittore began, breaking the silence.

  “There is no need for a search. Alvin has located the child,” I replied, taking my seat. “Out of the assassins masquerading as people, there are only two cliques with enough manpower and resources to orchestrate a kidnapping.”

  Vittore nodded. “I have information of the same degree, but I haven’t located their bases. Have you?”

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  “No, but I can guess. They would need a place with little to no surveillance, preferably somewhere deserted…”

  Vittore looked pensive. “In this metropolitan city, only shut-down factories meet the first two criteria, but those are on the outskirts, reachin—wait. You said the child has been located?” He looked pointedly confused.

  “Yes,” I affirmed.

  “But you do not know where their bases are?”

  “Nope. How are they related?”

  It was my turn to look puzzled

  “So you mean to say that the kidnappers did not bring the child to their base?” he clarified, drawing out each word.

  “And why would they do that?” I raised an eyebrow at him, feeling abjectly confused.

  There was a short pause.

  “Oh.” I realized, mentally slapping myself. “Well, you see… as someone acquainted with the trade, I understand some of their thinking. If you are committing a kidnapping—especially one where your goal is to be sought out—you wouldn’t want your base of operations to be discovered by your foes in the process.”

  “I see…” Vittore sighed. “I was of the opinion that they’d like to lure us into their hideout and cremate us on their own turf. Wouldn’t it be easier to kill us where they are strongest?”

  His words struck a chord in me. Long years ago, someone’s crisp voice had echoed in my ears: Pushing the memory aside, I explained, “No, they might not necessarily want to kill you—not yet, at least. To me, it seems like someone is just testing the waters, assessing our strength. At such a stage, they are not sure of success. They cannot risk exposing their base.”

  “So the pla—”

  Before he could finish, Elda, who had remained withdrawn until now, suddenly spoke up. “Do you know them?”

  “Excuse me?” I blinked.

  “Those cliques you spoke about… were they your former colleagues?” she asked, her voice little more than a murmur.

  “Well, it’s true I worked in the Axis, but it would be a long shot to say I’m familiar with everyone there.” I raised my head to meet her eyes. “That’s not how the Axis works.”

  She shifted uncomfortably under my gaze, saying no more.

  “But you’re not far off the mark. It so happens that I know one of the two. It’s led by a high-ranking veteran,” I added.

  Elda’s eyes grew wide at my words; visible fear filled them. My gaze never strayed to observe Vittore’s face, but I imagine he must have worn a similar expression. It would hardly be surprising if he had.