The Church in Aci Castello

“He taught me how to read people’s eyes. He taught me how to anticipate their actions, how to know what they were thinking before even they did. ‘It was the eyes,’ he would say. ‘Always watch the eyes.’” Daniel explained their relationship as we stepped off the train in Catania. The warm breeze felt good in the hot, Mediterranean sun.

It was a bit of a walk to Aci Castello. Daniel went on about Antonio. “He always talked about Sicily. His grandmother lived here her whole life. Antonio loved to come visit her. He said he was going to move here when he retired.”

“Is that why you know he’ll be here,” I asked, “for his grandmother’s funeral.”

Daniel slowed his pace and stopped. He looked at the ground then raised his gaze to the sea on our right and stood like a statue deep in thought. I read his eyes. He was conflicted. He started walking again.

“Yes,” he said finally, “he loved his grandmother. There is nothing that would keep him from her funeral.” We arrived at the village and made our way to the church where the funeral was to be held.

We walked in at the back, the nave open before us. Daniel blessed himself with Holy Water and surveyed the interior in a manner that said, “We’re not really here to pray.” He did that wherever he went, a 360 degree surveillance tactic that was taught in close quarter, urban combat training as a SEAL, reinforced as a CIA field agent, and distilled to perfection – by Antonio – in his current trade. It was impressive to watch really; within two seconds Daniel could walk into a room and tell you how many people were there, their approximate ages, their sex, what they were wearing, and if they were a threat. If he expected a threat, the time to locate it was practically instantaneous.

There was no one there. Daniel turned to me and whispered, “Two in the vestry.” I had no idea how he knew. I didn’t hear anything and there was no direct line of sight. “Sit down,” followed and I took a seat at the far side of the rear most pew. If things didn’t go according to plan, I wanted to be out of the way.

Daniel walked a few rows ahead, genuflected and entered a pew. He knelt in prayer. The scene before me was both logical and ironic.

Daniel lowered his right hand and slid it into his linen jacket towards his left breast where his Sig Sauer was secured. As he did this, Antonio and the Priest walked in from the vestry. Antonio looked right at Daniel as he walked into the room as though he already knew he was there. He whispered something to the Priest. The Priest turned and left immediately.

“Ciao, Daniel,” Antonio said in a calm voice. “I’m surprised they sent you. Who’s your friend?”

Daniel sat up on the pew. “I’m teaching him the ropes.” By this time the Sig was loosed from its holster and resting on Daniel’s right thigh.

Antonio walked to the front of the high alter where his grandmother’s body lay at peace. He kissed the fingertips of his right hand and rested it on the casket. He stood for a moment as if in silent prayer and then turned towards the pews.

 “Can we take this outside?” Antonio asked knowing the answer.

“I’m sorry friend, but you were the one that taught me to never give up a tactical position.”

The corners of Antonio’s mouth turned up slightly.

The scene was linear now. Both men stood in the isle looking at each other, reading each other’s eyes. Antonio was calculating odds, evaluating routes of escape, trying to figure out if Daniel would carry out a contract on a friend as close as he was – Daniel’s eyes said he would. Daniel, Sig in hand, had the clear upper hand. He was reading Antonio’s eyes anticipating his movement, but he couldn’t help feel that something was not right. He had Antonio. There really was no escape, but his eyes… his eyes held a genuine calmness.

Our linear scene started to morph into one without logical boundaries as Daniel started to make sense of the situation. He slowly turned his head to his left and stared down the barrel of my Desert Eagle 44. He lowered his right hand to his side.

“I’m sorry, Daniel. How is it that you never saw it in my eyes?”