“That’s really great,” I said, getting to my feet.
I hadn’t been up much since my admission except for short trips to the bathroom, and it took me a moment to steady myself.
“Thank you, Dr. Jalili, you and your team have been amazing.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Morgan. Try not to get shot again.”
He left the room. In the closet beside the bed I found fresh clothes Justine had brought over during a visit.
I put on a dark blue suit and white shirt, taking great care to properly fit the sling they’d given me to support my injured shoulder. The black shoes were the most difficult thing to manage, but despite working one-handed, I succeeded in the end. I made a call on the new phone Mo-bot had given me.
“Justine, it’s me. Yeah, they gave me the all clear. Thanks. I’ll wait for you outside.”
I hung up, excited to see her and our friends.
I had originally planned to wait on the bridge in front of the hospital and watch the river go by, but after thanking the ward staff, I took the stairs down to Matteo’s room.
He was lying in bed when I walked in.
“Jack,” he said. “How’s the shoulder?”
“I get to keep it,” I replied.
He smiled, though it didn’t last long. “If you want my resignation, I won’t be happy to give it but I’ll understand why.”
I was silent for a moment.
“It’s clear to me you made a couple of bad judgment calls, but none of us is perfect,” I replied. “Once you’re on your feet, I would like you to finish setting up the Rome office. You have the necessary skills and experience to make Private Rome exceptional.”
Matteo nodded and his smile returned. “Thank you, Jack. Thank you so much.”
CHAPTER101
AFTER LEAVING MATTEO, I went outside and waited on the bridge in front of the hospital. I was relieved and happy when Sci, Mo-bot, and Justine arrived in a taxi.
Justine jumped out of the vehicle and ran to me but stopped when I took a step back warily.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I almost forgot.”
She embraced me on my good side, avoiding my bullet wound, and we kissed.
It felt so great to be reunited with her, and the smile on her lips told me she felt exactly the same way.
Sci and Mo-bot greeted me warmly when I joined them in the cab. The driver took us through the Eternal City to the Hassler, which had been my home when I’d first arrived in Rome.
It was a relief not to be looking over my shoulder, watching for danger at every turn. After spending the afternoon in oursuite where we could finally be alone, Justine and I went to meet Sci and Mo-bot in the hotel’s rooftop bar and restaurant for pre-dinner drinks.
We entered the busy space to find our colleagues sitting with Faduma Salah. The tenacious journalist had filed stories that had given her readers the inside scoop on Propaganda Tre, the Dark Fates and the role of Joseph Stadler and Cardinal Peralta in laundering money for these groups. It was proving to be one of the most sensational scandals in modern Italian history, implicating government ministers like the deceased Stefano Trotta, financiers, mob bosses, and clergy.
“Hello, Mr. Morgan,” Faduma said as Justine and I joined them at their table.
“You know you can call me Jack,” I replied, wincing slightly as I caught myself at a bad angle while taking my seat.
“Are you okay?” Faduma and Justine said simultaneously.
“Jinx,” Mo-bot teased.
“I’m fine, thanks,” I replied. “Just need to get used to taking it easy.”
