Chapter 12 Section Eleven

Just after midnight, the ostensibly privately owned Galaxy eight-seat jet landed at Leonardo da Vinci Airport.Decker waited outside Customs and Immigration, waiting for a tall, white-haired, aristocratic man to come inside to check in with the officials.According to Decker, there were no other passengers on the plane.This man was 72 years old, but his body was amazingly muscular, with broad shoulders, bronze skin, rough facial features and dignified appearance.Jason McKittrick wore a three-piece gray wool-blend suit.There was nothing in the suit, nor in himself, of a long and hasty journey. Decker had met the legend three times before.McKittrick gave him a slight nod as he walked towards him.

"Did the flight go well? Let me carry the case for you," Decker said. But McKittrick, clutching the suitcase tightly, walked past Decker and headed for the airport exit.Decker catches up to him, their footsteps echoing in the empty airport hall.It was so late at night that there was almost no one in the airport. Decker already rented a Fiat.In the parking lot, McKittrick watched as Decker scrutinized the car to make sure it hadn't been bugged while he was in the airport.It was only when McKittrick got into the car and Decker drove toward the city through the black rain and fog that the big man spoke.

"Where is my son?" "In a hotel," Decker said, "he was using a different identity passport. After that incident... I think you heard that on the way?" "You mean the bombing?" McKittrick nodded gloomily. Decker looked ahead over the swinging windshield wipers. "I don't think it's safe for your son to be in his apartment after the bombing. Terrorists know where he lives." "You suspect they will attack him?" "No." Decker glanced at the string of car lights in the rearview mirror.It was dark and raining, and it was hard to tell if anyone was following them. "But I have to assume that they will leak intelligence and evidence about him to the police. I believe this is the crux of the matter - that they want to link an American intelligence agent to terrorist attacks against Americans."

McKittrick's expression tightened. "I'll send you to him as soon as I'm sure we're not being followed," Decker said. "You seem to have thought of everything." "I'm doing my best." "Then have you considered who should be held responsible for this incident?" McKittrick asked. "Sorry, what did you say?" Raindrops beat against the roof of the car. "Like, you take it?" McKittrick asked. "I never intend to take responsibility this time—" "Then come up with someone else. If there's one thing you can be sure of, it's that my son will never bear this responsibility."