Tiyana poured relentlessly over her notes. Their hotel room had become a messy workshop. Maps hung all over the walls. Stacks of books lay strewn about on top of and underneath loose-leaf papers. Napkins, paper cups, and plastic plates had crumbs of food on them and sat just to the side of her work. She had mapped out the nuclear reactors in France, Italy, and Switzerland. She had accumulated scores of books on the towns and history of the provinces of Imperia, Savona, Cuneo, Asti, and Torino, among others. The history was rich, charming, medieval, fascinating, and utterly unhelpful. The librarians of Imperia had come to know her on a first-name basis. Hunter, meanwhile, grew increasingly restless with each passing hour.
“How does a hypnotic warlord from a pre-historic era go missing in Western Italy with a small armada of mindless, sycophantic drones following him wearing medieval armor and carrying Tesla death rays while no one notices?” Hunter asked in an exasperated tone.
“Sure, dear, that’s fine.” Tiyana replied without lifting her eyes from the page.
Hunter went on, “I mean, if we’re wrong and he’s still in Genoa, then what the hell are we doing here? All hell is breaking loose out there! There’s got to be something we can do… that I can do.”
“Uh-huh.” Tiyana grunted softly.
“You’re not listening to a thing I say are you?” Hunter asked.
“Sure.” Tiyana replied, still not looking up.
“I am going to drive to Genoa, find Ghaelvord, and strangle him with my bare hands.” Hunter said.
“Yeah.” Came the reply.
“Tiyana!” Hunter shouted.
“What?” She shouted back.
At this moment, Tiyana’s eyes left the page. She looked around the room in a daze for a split second, and then her eyes focused, she realized where she was, and she gave Hunter her attention.
She said, “I’m sorry, were you saying something?”
Hunter had been agitated, but realizing that he had nothing important to say, he merely sighed, “No, no dear, I wasn’t. Hey, I’m going to go find Hongo and Vee and see what they are up to.”
“Alright, hey, hang in there okay?” She replied.
“Okay.” With that, Hunter left.
He found Hongo in the lobby with his eyes glued to the television screen. Footage of Genoa streamed constantly from every channel. The hotel had put multiple screens side by side so that the guests and staff could see each new development from each perspective simultaneously.
“Good morning rafiki.” Hunter muttered as he sat down beside his long-time confederate.
“It is morning, but I am not sure how good.” Hongo replied as he nodded his head toward the screens.
“I know, right, that.” Hunter acknowledged the remark.
Hunter went on, “About that, look I get why we’re here. This ship business doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. It’s fishy. There’s something missing. I get that. But look at that screen. Look at what is happening there. That can of worms on that screen right there; I opened it. I put that on those people. I can’t help but think that I should be there where the action is, fighting alongside that army.”
Hongo did not respond right away. When he did respond, he spoke in measured tones.
“Hunter, I have been watching the news for two days in a row. I have not missed a thing. Hunter, people have gone missing in the mountains north of here, the Maritime Alps. I have only seen two channels report on it, but they said that missing person’s reports have risen dramatically. The attention right now is all on Genoa, and so I have not seen much on the missing people, but it seems to be happening in Cuneo, in the west, among the mountain cities around Pinerolo.”
Hunter let the implications sink in slowly.
“Missing people on the rise?” He mused. “Interesting.”
“It might be nothing.” Hongo mouthed the words, but there was tension in his eyes.
“Where’s Vito?” Hunter asked.
“Probably at the docks again, engaged in the Sisyphean task of convincing those numbskulls to remember what happened with that ship.” Hongo replied.
“Sometimes I forget how educated you are Hongo.”
With that Hunter got up to leave for the docks. He needed a translator. He and Vito had work to do.