66. The Rescue Plan
The energy in our group was running high. As soon as we had left the woods and were back in our car, another fight broke out. Rachel and Martin wanted to stay close and check into a small hotel we had seen in the village close to the fortress. Pearl and I wanted to go to Florence and hide in the busloads of tourists that haunted the medieval city.
As we couldn’t agree on where to spend the night, we kept driving and stopped at a big pizzeria in Arezzo. We put our fight on hold and ordered pizza. The smell was delicious and the patrons’ mood boisterous. Families spanning four generations chatted at big tables laden with wine, starters, salad, pasta dishes and huge pizzas. Children were running between everyone’s legs, playing hide and seek with each and every table in the restaurant. When the merry atmosphere of the Italian families caught up with us and the spectacular pizza had lightened the mood, I tried a new approach.
“They will find us, probably before dawn, and then we will be brought to the fortress, too, if we stay close,” I said.
“Do you think they are going to torture you?” Pearl asked me with fear.
Martin stopped eating the last slice of his pizza and looked at me.
“I’ve given this a great deal of thought and not for the first time, I might add,” I said with as much gravitas as I could muster. “I think, they would probably not torture me. They need me. They need me of sound mind. I think what they will do, though, is torture one of you.”
The merry mood died down. The laughter around us suddenly seemed out of place. The children that had flocked to our table scattered in all directions back to their families.
“What do you suggest? I mean besides from staying in Florence for the night?” Rachel asked, all challenge gone from her voice.
“Maybe we should call Mike and Pete,” Martin suggested.
“Your brothers?” Rachel asked.
“Yes,” Martin said. “They are fearless and strong.”
“Takes too long,” I said. “Who knows what they are going to do to Jeremy. We need to act quickly,” I said.
“What do you suggest?” Pearl asked.
“I have a plan,” I said. “But I need a night to think about it.”
“Let’s go and find a place to stay in Florence.”
We found a small hotel by the river. The others went up to the rooftop terrace for the view and food and drinks but I went straight to bed. I pulled the blanket over my head and went to sleep immediately. I didn’t want to overthink it. The details of my plan would emerge from the back of my mind if I let my ideas percolate freely. I knew that.
In the morning, I asked Pearl to go ahead for breakfast and used the hotel computer in the business center to do some last research. I joined my fellow adventurers on the rooftop terrace half an hour later. They were nibbling half-heartedly on their rolls and looked demoralized. I breathed in the fresh morning air and enjoyed the view.
“So, what’s your plan?” Martin asked.
“It’s actually quite simple,” I said and reached for a piece of cake. How could the Italians eat cake for breakfast and all be so good looking? I wondered.
“We agree that we cannot overcome Butler’s men, right?” I continued.
They nodded.
“We also agree that we won’t be able to open the keypads even if miraculously we were able to get to the doors.”
More nods.
“You want us to give up and leave Jeremy with these thugs?” Rachel asked, outrage trembling in her voice.
“Honestly, I’m a bit offended that you think I would,” I said.
“Then what is your plan?” Rachel asked snippily.
“I publish.”
“You want to publish your proof now?” Martin said. “Of all times?”
“Yes. I think it is the best, possibly the only way to free Jeremy.”
“That’s your plan?” Rachel asked. “Publish some mathematical gobbledygook?”
“Unless they are blood-lusting killers, they have no reason to keep Jeremy once my proof is out there.”
“They are mercenaries,” Martin mused. “I doubt they are bloodthirsty killers.”
“I don’t understand. There’s months and months of peer review before something gets published, right?” Rachel asked.
“It does. It will take months.
“I don’t understand?” Rachel asked. “Why would the FPA let Jeremy go if it takes months?”
“Because it makes no sense to hold him. Everything I know will be out there for everyone who can understand it or knows its impact.”
“You mean they are going to know your proof is correct once they see it?” Pearl asked.
“Yes.”
“What is going to happen when the world knows the proof?” Pearl asked. “I mean, what is going to happen to us?”
“I honestly don’t know,” I said.
Silence weighed on the table. I had been through every thought that I could see crossing their minds. I waited for them to process my idea and ate my breakfast quietly. I knew the others would come to the same conclusion. Unless someone came to our rescue with military-strength forces, publishing my proof was the only way to free Jeremy.
When I swallowed my last bit of the best vanilla roll I had ever tasted – not that I had tasted many – I looked at Martin. He had not said more than ten words since we had left the restaurant the night before.
Copyright by Ines Strohschein, Berlin 2023