Page 17 of The Valiant (Spy Girl 4)
"Why are you in my room again?" I ask.
"It's Lorenzo's room. I'm in your room. And had you slept there, I guarantee you would have woken up naked."
I roll my tired eyes in his direction and then slide back under the covers, snuggling my face into the pillow that smells of Lorenzo. Last night, our physical relationship progressed, but Lorenzo showed an incredible amount of restraint and managed to fend me off before we crossed that line.
I close my eyes as a broad smile spreads across my face.
"Oh, come on. Stop with the dreamy look," Daniel complains. "Enzo stopped by and asked us to make sure you were up in time for your museum tour."
"What time is it?"
"Nine."
"I suppose I'd better get up then. My tour is at ten."
"And then you and Ari are going to Florence, right?"
"Yes, as soon as your meeting is over."
"Why don't I come to Florence with you, and then you can come to Omaha with me?"
"Because I'm going to London next."
"As long as you don't go back to Montrovia," he states.
"Give it a rest, Daniel. Please."
"Look, I couldn't get into it on the phone, but our government believes a terrorist attack is imminent."
"In London?"
"No, silly. In Montrovia."
"Does Lorenzo know about this?" I ask, suddenly feeling very worried. "When is it supposed to take place?" What if I don't figure this all out before it's too late?
"You're not supposed to know this. Hell, I'm not even supposed to know this, but during the Cold War, Russia created a series of suitcase nukes."
"Everyone knows about them," I say, rolling my eyes. "Jack Bauer hunted them for most of a TV season."
"Well, what you might not know is that the United States and their NATO allies were seriously worried about the threats. If the other side had launched nukes at us, our government would have had to choose between defeat or launching a counterattack, which would have killed hundreds of millions of people. They needed something a little less devastating. So, Special Forces from each branch of the military started carrying backpack nukes that would allow them to parachute or scuba dive into areas behind enemy lines to take out smaller strategic targets. Fortunately, they were never needed."
"Okay?" I say, wanting him to just get to the point already. "How does that affect us now?"
"A cache of those weapons in Eastern Europe has gone missing."
"How many is in a cache?"
"In this case, there are eight. Enough to devastate a country such as Montrovia."
"Do you really think that's the plan? Seems like a terrorist group would want to hit a bigger country."
"Control Montrovia, and you can control the world," Daniel says flippantly.
"What do you mean?" I say, unable to hide my reaction.
"I have no idea really. It's just what I was told. My father must believe the source is reliable because he's been threatening not to let me attend the Olympics."
"But you must!"
"I know!" Daniel says, grinning at me. "But promise me, if I don't go, you don't go."
"Daniel, if your dad is worried enough not to let you go, no one should be going."
"At least we agree on something." He flashes a dimple at me and then looks at his clock. "You'd better get out of bed. You don't have much time left."
"Hand me my robe, will you?"
"It's not like I haven't seen you naked before."
"I'm not naked," I repeat as I get up with a sigh, grabbing the robe as I make my way into the bathroom.
Daniel follows me.
"Do I at least get a kiss for luck?"
I lean in and give him a peck on the cheek.
"You're wicked," he says, smacking me on the butt and then taking off. "I'd better see you in the stands in Omaha, cheering for me, or I will be utterly devastated and fail to make the cut. I wouldn't want the guilt of that hanging over your head."
I hurry to get ready, purposefully choosing to dress more touristy than Huntley Von Allister would. I pull my hair back into a ponytail, rush to get a taxi, and tell the driver that I'm late.
Along the way, I decide covert agencies should hire Roman taxi drivers to teach their aggressive driving classes because the man is brilliant, getting me there with six and a half minutes to spare.
I give him a generous tip and then take a moment to enjoy the beauty surrounding me. Set amid an immense park, the Galleria Borghese's exterior consists of symmetrical jutting structures connected by a portico. It is decorated with both reliefs and sculptures and features a grandiose staircase.
As I make my way up it, I find Intrepid waiting for me.
"When you're around, it's never good news," I tease as he greets me with air kisses.
"We'll talk about that when we are through with the tour. How are you feeling?"
"Shiny and new again," I lie. My shoulder is still a bit sore, but I choose to ignore the pain.
"I've been through the photos, and I have been updated on everything so far. What do you expect the significance of this tour is?"
"Um, I have no idea, or I wouldn't be here. But I will tell you the same thing I told Ari when we went on the castle tour. Join me, but don't talk to me. If I do remember something and you interrupt, it will be gone. And I think we both want me to remember. Also, after the tour, I have something to tell you that Ari doesn't know about."
"Are you keeping secrets from your brother?"
"No, just haven't had the opportunity to tell him with his super-secret meeting today."
"You almost sound jealous."
"I might be."
The tour guide greets us and asks if we've ever visited before. I tell her no before Intrepid can reply. I hadn't been here before I came with my mother. I do know that much.
The moment we enter the first gallery, we are greeted by not only a beautiful marble floor, but also interesting architecture, bas-relief, fresco ceilings, and paintings of the masters of the Renaissance, like Raphael.
"The Galleria Borghese started as a private villa used only to hold garden parties and to impress society with Cardinal Borghese's significant art collection. The cardinal, who was the nephew of a pope, was lavished with money and power. Back then, the only way to view these masterpieces was by being invited to one of his parties."
Our tour guide continues to regale us with the history of the time, making us feel like we are living in it. I'm enthralled with the stories of rivalries between the painters and sculptors who worked there. We see a statue of Pauline Bonaparte by Canova, busts of the cardinal, as well as works by the masters Bernini, Caravaggio, Rubens, and Cellini.
One of my favorite parts of the tour takes place upstairs as our guide shows us the bedroom that the pope supposedly slept in when he visited, and that is filled with nude paintings. I flash back to myself giggling about that.
Most of the pieces I recognize, but I'm not sure if it's from the studying I did at Blackwood or from my memory. I'm especially impressed with the Bernini pieces, like Apollo and Daphne and The Kidnapping of Persephone.
When we are almost through with the tour, our guide says, "And this, Bernini sculpt
ed when he was merely twenty."
"What's it called?" Intrepid asks.
"Aeneas, Anchises, and Ascanius Fleeing Troy," I reply. "It's a scene from the legendary founding of Rome."
"I thought Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus?" Intrepid asks. "And one of them killed the other or something."
"Romulus killed Remus," I say, "so he could rule and named the country after himself. But this is a different version. Have you ever read the twelve-book-long epic poem Aeneid by Virgil?"
"Uh, that would be a negatory," he states. "I take it, you have. Give me the condensed version."
"The hero in this Bernini sculpture is the buff one, Aeneas, who was a Trojan prince and the son of Venus. He is depicted as fleeing Troy with his young son and elderly father. The poem is about him, and much like other literary works from this time period, the hero goes through many trials and tribulations. He escapes Troy as it is burning and then sails in search of a new place to live.
"There are parallels between this work and the Odyssey and Iliad by Homer. The first six books are stories about Aeneas and the survivors facing trials in a style similar to what Odysseus does in the Odyssey. Supposedly, Aeneas of Troy was both the founder of Rome as well as an ancestor of Romulus and Remus.
"But then other legends say Rome was really named after a woman, Roma, who was on the ship with Aeneas. When they ended up on the banks of the Tiber River, she led the other women in the burning of the ships to strand them there."
"Probably sick of being stuck on a ship!" Intrepid hoots, wrapping his arm around me and causing the tour guide to study us more closely.
"Are you father and daughter?" she asks politely.
"He's my uncle," I say, but I can tell by the look on her face that she assumes we must be having an affair.
Intrepid abruptly ends the tour, thanking our guide and then leading me out the garden. "Talk," he says as he takes a seat on a bench.
"I know that sculpture particularly well. That leads me to believe it was a highlight of the tour, but I'm having a hard time figuring out what it has to do with her death."
