Omega Plague: Collapse Read Online Free Page B

fine,” Cristian replied. “Just talked to them
yesterday. Someone had the sniffles in my daughter’s class, and they closed the
whole school.” He laughed. “My daughter loves it. She’s home with my parents
all day.” Cristian’s face clouded. “Guess they don’t want to take any chances
with kids. I hope there’s nothing to it . . .”
    Bruno didn’t reply. They kept walking in silence for a time,
then Cristian said, “Anyway, I’ve got leave scheduled next week to go see
them.”
    “No doubt they’ll be happy to see you.” Now that the
Interior and Defense Ministries had put everyone on alert status, Bruno knew
there was no way leave would be permitted anytime soon, but he didn’t have the
heart say it.
    The sun had just disappeared into the sea when they arrived
at their station, just off the main square. They entered a confined waiting
area with four low chairs and a small round table, magazines with ageing
celebrities and scenes of Mediterranean islands on their covers strewn about.
The area was stark, with off-white walls and a sad potted plant in the corner.
Directly in front of them was a thick glass partition with an opening at the
bottom, like a teller’s window, and a black steel door to the right of the
partition with a small square window. Beyond the glass partition a stout,
uniformed, grey-haired man with a white goatee sat on one corner of a low metal
desk. There were two other desks. All the desks had monitors on them. Veri was
reading, a sheet of paper in one hand and a cigarette in the other.
    As they opened the outer door a chime rang in the back. Veri
looked up and waved his cigarette at them in acknowledgement. The steel door
buzzed along with the sound of electromagnets unlocking. Bruno and Cristian
walked in and the door clanged shut behind them.
    “Ah. Good evening, lads. No problems on your shift?” Veri
had a raspy voice from a few too many years of smoking.
    “It’s more crowded than normal at the marina, Maresciallo,”
said Bruno. “And a little rowdy. But nothing too bad yet.” Cristian nodded.
    Veri snuffed his cigarette out in the ashtray on his desk.
Judging by the pile of butts, he cared not a whit about the “Vietato Fumare”
sign just past the inner door. The man moved around his desk and sat down. His
eyes were bloodshot as he looked back and forth from Bruno to Cristian. “Well,
get ready, gentlemen. I think we’re about to have a real shit-storm come down,
and soon.” The stout Veri would never be confused with a movie star. Carved in
his face were decades of law enforcement time. But while he could be brusque to
the point of rudeness, both men had benefited from his willingness to bend the
rules to support them, instead of acting like a rigid martinet. In return,
Bruno felt loyal, even devoted, to Veri.
    Veri called them “gentlemen” only when he was about to
inform them of some particularly vexing request from their regional command.
Bruno braced himself as Veri motioned for the two of them to gather around his
desk. “All right,” he began. “I’ve just received message traffic from Regional
Command in Naples. First, all transfers and leave have been cancelled. No
surprise there. So, it looks like our additional officer, Marco, won’t be
arriving here anytime soon.” Veri then picked up another sheet of paper. Bruno
smiled to himself; Veri was so old-school, he still liked to print things out.
“I also received these orders, maybe an hour ago. Let me read them to you.”
Veri looked up. “I think you’ll find them . . .” he paused. “Well, I’ll just
read them and be done with it.”
    “‘In light of the emergency conditions commencing as of this
date and in order to maintain public order, pursuant to Chapter 5, Article 40
of the Code on Public Security, all civilian permits for firearms possessed by
individuals are declared null, void, and are hereby revoked, effective 72 hours
from the time of promulgation of this order.’”
    Veri