Free Until Twilight by Desiree Holt, Cerise DeLand

Florence,”
    Isabella said. “If they don’t even bother to disguise the voice then they don’t care if we catch them. Are they crazy? They could kill Arturo at any moment.”
    “They’re not going to kill him,” Lane said quietly, setting his cup and saucer on the
    desk.
    “And you know this how?” Umberto asked.
    “He’s their ace in the hole. They need him alive or they have no bargaining chip.
    But if we don’t at least give the appearance we are acting, then I’m afraid not just
    Franzoni but all the G8 ministers will be killed when they gather in Paris.”
    “Just who is this Octo?” Umberto asked. “I have never heard of them.”
    “Nemesis is working at warp speed to discover the identities.” At that moment his
    cell phone rang. Looking at the readout, he excused himself and walked to the corner to take the call. When he finished he sat down again, his heart very grim.
    “What is it?” Bella asked. Then she clenched her hands. “Not about Arturo.”
    “No.” Lane shook his head. “That was Dan. He’s found out a little information on
    Octo from one of his former contacts.”
    “Well?” she asked impatiently.
    “They are brand new,” he told her. “Rumor has it they are young hotheads fed up
    with the fiscal manipulations of Kopf Industries. The theory is each of them has faced
    financial ruin in some form because of that. One of the suspected members of Octo is a
    Frenchman by the name of Liebermann. His family was robbed by the Nazis of their
    family art treasures during the Occupation in the forties. Liebermann is an activist to get all that art back from current owners, who are, by his view, illegally retaining the 59
    Desiree Holt & Cerise DeLand
    works. So this may be a connection to the story that the heads of Kopf own many pieces
    of art stolen by the Nazis during World War II.”
    “ Dios mio! ” Umberto exclaimed.
    “Indeed.” This from Isabella. “If that is true, then they have an emotional desire for
    revenge as well as a practical one. For generations many families have tried to obtain
    proof that the art these people display—and often lend to museums—is actually stolen
    and should be returned.”
    “Yeah,” Lane agreed, “but governments have been reluctant to rattle the cages of
    people with enormous wealth who wield tremendous power. If that’s what these
    people want, you’ve got generations of anger that has built up to this point. The
    manipulation of the subprime mortgage market that precipitated the ruin of many
    banks and businesses is just the launching pad for this attack.”
    Emilio Umberto spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. “Then what can we
    possibly do? My government will never agree to these demands. And I don’t think the
    other G8 countries will, either.”
    “But fortunately they’ve united to engage Nemesis to act for them,” Lane told him.
    “I think Signorina Sebastiani and I need to check in to our hotel so we can make some
    phone calls. Nemesis will work with the G8 representatives to craft some kind of
    statement that will hold these people off until we can find Minister Franzoni and also
    neutralize any threat to the upcoming conference.” He looked at Isabella. “Because of
    high security, Dan is certain members of Octo cannot get into the building where the
    meeting will be. But he also seems to think any other members of Octo will be hidden
    somewhere along the arrival route of the ministers to the conference. Hotheads like this will want to view the results of their handiwork.”
    “Let’s hope for lots of them,” she agreed. “If we can get our hands on any of them
    we can find the others. But right now we need to do whatever we can to secure Arturo’s
    release.”
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    Until Twilight
    He rose from his chair and held out his hand to Umberto. “You know where we’re
    staying if you need to reach us. And we have your phone numbers.” He slid a Nemesis
    business card across the smooth wooden surface of the