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“Okay fine,” I sighed, rolling my eyes again. “More than a little.”

The tattooed seal threw me a sideways wink. Holden and Marcus just stood there impassively.

“Good,” I said finally. “Glad that’s all settled. Now just one more thing…”

Each of them leaned in a little. Holden actually raised an eyebrow.

“Any chance of breakfast?” I yawned.

Thirty

ANDREA

We couldn’t have found a more out of the way place if we tried. The little cafe we picked was actually underground — partially, anyway — a few steps down from the main road. It was all Holden’s doing of course, but by now we were used to it. At least the coffee was adequate. The conversation however…

“Pass me more of that… that thing?”

Randall stared back at Marcus. “What thing?”

“The thing with honey all over it.”

“Bro, everything has honey all over it!”

“The bread thing,” Marcus said, exasperated. “Yeah. That one.”

I had to stop myself from giggling. Holden kept trying to explain a small, hand-drawn map on the table. It already had stains from where Randall had spilled yogurt on it… twice.

“So you’re sure Kyrkos has left Greece?” Marcus was asking.

Holden nodded. “He’s on the way to Taormina.”

“Sicily?”

“Yes. He has a place there.”

“What do you mean ‘on the way’?” I asked, confused.

“He’s sailing by yacht,” said Holden. “Mostly because he’s afraid to fly. He’ll get on an aircraft from time to time, but only when absolutely necessary.”

“Sounds like a lame asshole,” smirked Randall.

Holden ignored him. “Also, he won’t travel on anything smaller than his yacht,” he said. “And that’s because—”

“— he’s afraid of the water, too.”

Marcus stuffed another piece of honeyed br

ead into his mouth as he said the words. Holden gave him a strange look, but said nothing.

“So let’s fly over,” I said simply, “and intercept him. Get there before he does.”

“We will,” Holden replied, “but it has to be done discreetly. Randall and I need to figure a flight plan first, at a time and place that’ll draw the least attention. We can’t just land anywhere with all this gear.”

A freckled young woman came by, smiling amiably. She laid a small silver platter on the table, covered in thinly-sliced fruit.

“Can you two lay low somewhere?” Holden asked, his gaze going from me to Marcus. “While we set things up?”

“Of course,” I said. Marcus added a silent nod.