Chapter 447: Does anyone remember Enzo exists?

They met in the study at two.

Marco had set the laptop on the desk and propped it to face the room. On the screen, Mike sat at his own desk in New York with a cup of coffee and the look of a man who had been awake since five. Eve sat in the chair beside Dimitri. Marco stood.

"Everyone here?" Dimitri asked.

"Eve’s here, Marco’s here, and I’m here," Mike said. "Unless you’ve got someone hiding."

"Enzo."

Mike paused with the cup halfway to his mouth. "Does anyone remember Enzo exists?"

"I’ll talk to Enzo later."

"That’s what you said last time."

"This time I mean it." Dimitri didn’t smile, but something moved at the corner of his mouth. "He has his own part to play. Not today."

"Fine." Mike set the cup down. "Then I’ll start. I’ve got something."

"Go."

"Three days ago, someone started scrubbing everything connected to Armani. The courier, the registry entries, a depot in Naples. All of it, within six hours." Mike’s fingers moved on his keyboard. "That’s your father. He knew someone was pulling at the thread, and he panicked."

"Antonio doesn’t panic," Marco said.

"Then he moved very fast." Mike turned his screen. A map appeared on the shared window, a patchwork of roads and pins. "The depot in Naples was emptied the same day. One cold-chain truck left that night. I traced it, and it went north, to Frascati."

Dimitri leaned forward. "Where in Frascati?"

"A cold storage facility on the outskirts. It’s registered to a holding company that belongs to the Valentino family. Your father’s name isn’t on anything, but the company is one of his." Mike tapped a pin. "That’s where the stock is."

"The antidote too?"

"I’d bet money. If he moved the depot, he moved everything in it."

Marco shifted. "Frascati isn’t Prometheus."

"No," Dimitri said. "It’s not."

"It’s a temporary location." Eve spoke for the first time. She was looking at the map, her chin resting on her fist. "He moved it fast, in a panic, after Dante started pulling at the courier. He told someone to put it somewhere quickly. That means he didn’t have time to secure it the way he secures the lab."

"She’s right," Marco said slowly.

"I usually am," Eve said.

"It’s a cold room, not a fortress. Probably two guards, a night shift, a keypad." Marco pulled the laptop toward him. "I’ll have eyes on it by evening."

"Good." Dimitri sat back. "Now, the rest."

He told them what Armani had said. The gray case. The green band. The code. The four degrees. When he was finished, Mike let out a low whistle.

"That’s actually helpful," Mike said.

"I know."

"I mean it. Most people can’t describe the thing they saw for thirty seconds. This guy’s got the code."

"He’s frightened. It sharpens the memory."

Eve was still staring at the map. A line had formed between her brows.

"Dimitri."

"Yes?"

"Do you need to take it?"

"I need the antidote."

"I know. But do you need to take the case?" She turned in her chair to face him. "Think about it. If you break in and take it, your father notices the next time someone opens the room. Maybe a day. Maybe a week. Then he knows exactly who."

"He already suspects."

"Suspecting isn’t knowing." She leaned forward. "What if he doesn’t notice? What if the case is still there?"

Mike’s eyes narrowed. "You mean a decoy."

"Exactly. We swap it. The same case, the same band, the same code, the same cold seal. Something inside that feels right to the weight." Eve’s voice was quick and certain. "He won’t open it, because he doesn’t want to use it. He keeps it as insurance. He counts it. He sees it’s there. He walks away."

For a moment no one spoke.

"That works," Marco said. His voice was low. "If he never intends to use it, he won’t check inside."

"He won’t have a reason," Mike said. "I can print the label. I can copy the seal if Armani’s description is good. I’d need a case that weighs about right."

"Saline in the ampoules," Marco said. "Same volume. Same bottle."

"Four degrees," Dimitri said. "It has to be cold when it goes in."

"I’ll take care of the cold chain." Marco was already writing. "A courier van, a portable unit. I can have it sorted by tomorrow."

"Eve," Dimitri said.

"Yes?"

"That’s the best thing anyone has said in this room."

She smiled. It was brief and private, and it didn’t touch her face for long. But he saw it.

"Don’t let it go to my head," she said.

...

They worked through the details for the next two hours.

Marco would take three men from outside Rome, none of them with a Valentino face, none of them known to Antonio’s people. They would go in on the night shift, between the guard changes. Mike would handle the cameras from New York, looping the feed for a window of twelve minutes. Marco’s doctor would receive the real case at a safe address and verify what was inside.

"One more thing," Dimitri said. "No one is hurt."

Marco looked up. "Boss?"

"Not a guard. Not a technician. If there is a dog, we drug it. If there is a keypad, we open it. I want a clean room, a swapped case, and a door that closes behind us as if no one was there."

"That’s harder."

"I know."

"It can be done."

"Then do it."

"And if Antonio checks the cameras?" Eve asked.

"He won’t see anything," Mike said. "I’ll have a loop ready. If there’s a slip, I’ll know before he does."

"And Dante?" Marco asked.

Dimitri looked at the screen. Mike met his eyes.

"There’s a risk," Mike said carefully. "I’ve been going back through my own trail. The scrubbing your father did is a problem. My timeline says the source went dark two months ago. But the registry shows the records were wiped three days ago. Anyone who looks at both will see they don’t match."

"Luca," Dimitri said.

"He’s good. He might not notice for a few days. He might notice tonight."