He didn’t have a chance to respond; their escort had arrived, a US Navy lieutenant in a tan uniform, who brought them through the formidable metal turnstile.
The building was as grey inside as it was out, the smooth tiling and monochromatic walls reflecting the minimalist efficiency of the United States Navy. The only decorative elements were a wall with pictures of the military commanders of the base, each in service dress blues, each in the same posture, seated before an American flag. At the top was a photo of the US president, and just below was Admiral Redford’s picture with the words “Commander, United States Sixth Fleet.”
—
At the admiral’s office, the lieutenant knocked on the open door and announced to the group inside: “Investigators Figliomeni and Serafino, Phoenix Seven.”
Conversations paused and faces turned to them.
Apart from the admiral, Nikki recognized the defense attaché, and the pale face and white hair of Ambassador Lissom, wearing a brown cardigan and bow tie. Besides this, there were two uniformed men, and a man in a suit, vest, and tie; another man in a polo shirt.
Admiral Redford greeted Nikki with a warm handshake.
“Investigator Serafino. Always a pleasure to see you. I’m sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”
There was a flash of something in his face, a grimace so rapid it almost didn’t register through the rigid mask of professionalism. For a moment, Nikki wondered if their proximity was as difficult for him as it was for her. On the rare instances when she spotted the admiral in his neatly pressed uniform, as he strode across the base with that characteristic confidence, as men and women stood at attention and saluted, she was abruptly reminded of those desperate moments of terror in the dark, clawing at the tape wrapped around his mouth, around his forearms and his wrists. She remembered him next to her, on the cold damp ground of the cave, while Durant Cole pointed his weapon at them. She was grateful they’d made it out alive, but she wished she could erase that vulnerability and fear and restore some former order to the world.
“Good to see you, too, sir,” she said. “I’m fine, thank you.”
He shook Angelo’s hand next, with a curt nod. “Investigator Figliomeni.”
—
Admiral Redford’s office, lodged deep inside the command building, was harshly lit. Three flagpoles stood upright in a corner behind a heavy mahogany desk: the American flag, the US Navy flag, and the NATO flag. In lieu of windows, there were paintings of battleships in gilded frames.
Admiral Redford invited the group to sit on blue upholstered sofas and leather armchairs, then announced, “Go ahead, Paul.”
The ambassador leaned forward, hands pressed together.
“I confess I’m at a loss,” he said. “My daughter and her friend have been arrested for murder. They were merely in the wrong place, at the wrong time—and committed the sin of trying to help.”
He ran an unsteady hand across his forehead, and turned to a suited man. “Advocate Ferragni,” he said. “Can you tell them what you told me?”
The man spoke with a thick Roman accent. “I’m Advocate Ferragni. My firm is representing Ambassador Lissom’s daughter in this case. Here is the evidence against Monica Lissom and Kami Washington: First, they were at the scene at the time of the murder, and hadthe blood of the victim on their hands and clothing. Second, the fingerprints of Signorina Lissom were found on the murder weapon. Finally, cocaine residue was found on the clothing of the victim and on Ms. Lissom and Ms. Washington. The chemical signature indicated it was from the same batch.”
“It must have come off the dead girl,” the ambassador interjected.
“Quite possibly,” the lawyer said. “Both young ladies are being held in the Pozzuoli Remand Female Prison. The police will interview them again this afternoon.”
“Phoenix Seven will support you,” offered Admiral Redford. He turned to Angelo. “Investigator Figliomeni, I’d like you to assign Nikki Serafino to work with Advocate Ferragni on this.”
Before Angelo could reply, the civilian in the polo shirt spoke, directing measured words to the ambassador: “The nature of this case—and your family’s involvement—could well impact bilateral relations—”
“I’m aware of the implications!” the ambassador snapped. “I spent all night on the phone with Washington. I may very well need to recuse myself.”
The man continued. “Well, you may also wish to consider that military support to your daughter’s legal defense could violate the terms of existing agreements with the Italian government.”
One of the uniformed men spoke—a navy captain in a dark blue jacket with golden stripes on his cuffs, gold buttons, and an eagle insignia above the ribbons on his chest. Nikki recognized him as the JAG, head of the legal office. He addressed Admiral Redford.
“Sir, it’s questionable whether it’s within the authority of Phoenix Seven to give support in a criminal defense case, especially one involving a civilian.”
“Is it prohibited by the status of forces agreement?” asked the admiral.
“Not explicitly,” said the JAG. “But it could be perceived as undue influence by the military. It may harm our credibility and perceived neutrality if this case draws unfavorable media attention.”
The admiral nodded solemnly, hands clasped.
“I acknowledge the jurisdictional and protocol concerns,” he said. “However, I must also weigh the broader implications for our base and personnel. It undermines trust if people perceive that one of our own isn’t receiving adequate support in a foreign legal system. Moreover, whether or not we help, negative publicity from the case might foment anti-American sentiment—posing a potential security threat. We must proactively address these risks. By ensuring the case is handled with fairness and sensitivity, we protect not only the rights of Ambassador Lissom’s daughter, but also the integrity and security of our operations.”
