too small for his lungs to fill, and he had always had excellent wind. He left the stockroom and entered the bar.
Marco crossed to him with a sly smile. “Aldo, was that her?”
Aldo understood the mix-up, which worked to his advantage. “Uh, yes.”
“A blonde! What a beauty!”
“Uh, thank you.” Aldo realized that he wouldn’t be able to ride home with Marco tonight, if he had to go to Orvieto. “She came by to tell me that her husband’s going out of town, so I can stay with her the whole night. Will you cover for me with Papa and Mamma?”
“Yes, of course. But what about in the morning, when you’re not home?”
Aldo felt nonplussed, but Marco’s face lit up.
“I have an idea. I’ll tell Papa that you felt good and decided to train until late, like take an endurance ride. Then he and Mamma won’t wait up. Just be back before they’re up in the morning.”
“Great idea,” Aldo said, forcing a smile. The irony wasn’t lost on him that his little brother was helping him obtain the guns that would be turned against him.
“Now tell me.” Marco leaned closer, his eyes glinting. “What happened in the stockroom? Did you give her some, that quick?”
“Marco, no!” Aldo chuckled, though he felt sick to his stomach.
“It can be done, brother. I know, for a fact.”
Aldo didn’t reply, except to shove him playfully.
* * *
—
Evening darkened into nightfall, and Aldo rode out of Rome and found the back roads heading north. He kept an eye on the traffic around him, making sure he wasn’t followed, but he felt safe. His thoughts churned as he went, knowing that each revolution of his wheels brought him closer to something he dreaded. He had to save Marco, and tainted pork seemed like his best alternative.
Over three hours passed on the bike, and Aldo finally reached the medieval town of Orvieto. He rode through its cobblestone streets and found Piccolo’s, a shabby bar on a narrow street lined by closed shops. Everything was dark except for the tavern, which shed an elliptical shaft of light onto the sidewalk. Slumping against the wall near the entrance was a man in a checked cap, drinking from a wine bottle. It had to be Fabio, posing as a drunk. On the ground next to Fabio lay a bulky package wrapped in brown paper and twine. The guns.
Aldo slowed his pace, glancing around to make sure he wasn’t being watched. The street was deserted, and no one was around. A dog barked in the distance, otherwise there was absolute stillness.
In the next moment, Fabio rose, wobbly, then staggered away, pretending to lean on the wall to steady himself. The wrapped package remained on the ground.
Aldo didn’t hesitate. He sped up, leaned over as he rode past, snatched it, and kept going. It was heavy, and he tossed it into the pouch on his handlebars.
Aldo found his heart beating hard, now that he had the pistols. There really was no going back now. He sent up a prayer for forgiveness. He resolved again to find a way to save Marco. Now it was time to get back to Rome.
He scanned the street, and it remained empty, dark, and quiet. He rode down the street, turned around, and steered back the way he came, due south. His eyes swept the streets as he pedaled faster, heading out of town. He left Orvieto and kept going, every muscle tense as he gripped the handlebars.
His thighs began to burn, and he accelerated, barreling into the dark night. The road wound this way and that, with a long ride ahead. The pistols in the pouch clinked against each other, making noise when he hit a bump.
Aldo lowered his upper body to improve his aerodynamics. He made his way through pastures with grazing horses and cows in the darkness. The headlights of a passing car shone on him, but he ignored it. He accelerated, then the car accelerated, but didn’t pass him. He didn’t understand. He signaled to the car to pass him, but it didn’t. It didn’t make sense.
Aldo held steady with the car at his heels, over his right shoulder. The big headlights illuminated him. He glanced over his shoulder to see it was a big, dark sedan. He felt a tremor of fright. He told himself to calm down, but it wasn’t working. He slowed, but the sedan slowed, too. He sped up, and the sedan sped up. But it still didn’t pass him.