Omega Plague: Collapse Read Online Free

chuckled.
    “You’re dating my sister, remember.”
    “Don’t worry! I said I’m just looking!” laughed Cristian.
“Actually, I prefer older women doctors like your sister. And president of the
hospital, too. A rich older woman—I really like those!”
    Bruno said nothing.
    “Oh, come on! I’m just joking, Bruno. You’re so uptight! You
need another woman.”
    “How much longer will I be the only one who has to listen to
your shit? When do you think Marco will arrive?” asked Bruno, changing the
subject.
    “Il Maresciallo said he’d be here in about two weeks. Could
be longer. You know how slow they can be at headquarters.” Bruno knew exactly who
Cristian meant by “il Maresciallo.” There was only one Marshal with the
Carabinieri on the island: Bernardo Veri, their boss.
    “Maybe we should dump all our shit cases on Marco when he
gets here,” laughed Bruno.
    “I’m sure Veri would get a kick out of that,” said Cristian.
“What about that shit case of yours, that weird pirate radio thing? Wasn’t the
broadcaster some kind of conspiracy nut?”
    “Oh yeah, that guy was transmitting all sorts of tinfoil hat
shit, then just stopped. I talked to a few amateur radio geeks, but they’re
pretty tight-lipped. Not many of them on the island. If they know anything,
they’re not telling. Fucking nutters, the lot of them.”
    “What a waste of time.”
    “Yeah, whoever it was hasn’t broadcast for months. I’ll
probably just recommend closing the case,” said Bruno.
    “How did you end up with it?”
    Bruno shrugged. “Dunno. I guess when they referred this case
to us, someone at the Provincial Command remembered I spent six months working
as a communications tech.”
    “Well, I’ll tell you how to find out who’s broadcasting,”
said Cristian. “Find the geekiest ham radio guy, the kind who couldn’t get laid
in a bordello. That’ll be your man.”
    “What a brilliant strategy. Clever aren’t, you? Like
Sherlock Holmes.”
    “Nah, I’m more like that TV cop—what’s his name?” Cristian
paused, then snapped his fingers. “Commissario Montalbano! Smart and sexy.”
    “You’re a bloody idiot,” said Bruno.
    Their meanderings had brought them full circle, and they
were standing in the entrance to the bar again. The same two old men were
lounging about, still paying no mind to the screen overhead. It was a few
minutes after the hour, and the voice of a female news presenter caught Bruno’s
ear. “In other news, the Minister of Health in Rome will honor a group of ten
doctors, including three Italians, from the charitable group Médecins à l’aide
des autres, who are returning from West Africa today after a twenty-one day
quarantine. The honors are in recognition of their assistance in containing the
latest outbreak of Ebola, as well as fighting mosquito-borne diseases. They
will continue on to . . .” the news presenter’s downy voice faded into the
background as a group of bustling Japanese tourists led by an Italian guide
carrying a sign on a stick moved past them. Bruno found it curious that the
Japanese still liked to have a live tour guide, unlike most of the English
speakers, whose various devices constantly droned on wherever they went.
    Cristian looked up from his phone. “Hey! Carla just texted
me. She’s got a friend who wants to meet you.”
    “Really?”
    “Oh yeah! She’s a nurse—works at the hospital with Carla. I
think Carla’s her supervisor, actually. And I bet she’s hot!” Cristian laughed.
“Come on, you want to meet up tonight?”
    Bruno shrugged. “Why not?”
    Cristian clapped him around the shoulder. “Now that’s what I
like to hear! Don’t worry, after tonight, you won’t even remember your
ex—what’s her name? See, I can’t even remember!”
    “Good. You watching the game tomorrow?”
    “Napoli-Roma? Of course, we’re going to kick your asses!”
    “Did you hear what happened to your captain?”
    “Manelli? Is he injured?”