Major Denipol, commander of the Fleet Marines, said with a grim face, "This is too serious. We need to report to Paris immediately." Second Lieutenant Kamas spoke at a rapid pace. "I've already sent an assistant to Siena. But Paris won't respond for at least two days. Anything could happen in that time."
There were no Shap Signal Towers within the Papal States that could communicate with France. The nearest one was in Siena, Florence, and even riding there would take half a day. Sending the report back to France would take more than half a day as well. A round trip meant two days.
Kamas was deeply frustrated as well.
Last week, Captain Savien, the Security Bureau chief here, had happened to go to Perugia to handle some matters, leaving him as the acting intelligence chief in Rome. The afternoon before yesterday, while drinking with Archbishop Consalvi's secretary, he had heard the man mention that some "idiots" had spent twenty thousand francs to risk entering the city. The appearance of the five "idiots"—one small, four large—described by the secretary sounded very much like Prince Charles and his personal guards.
Considering the Prince's prior connections with Rome's rioters, he had cautiously gone to find the noble who had arranged the introduction. Then he heard the answer he least wanted to hear.
At the time, the Security Bureau had only five agents left in Rome. That was nowhere near enough to rescue anyone.
In his desperation, Kamas recalled that the higher-ups had a plan to "rescue the Pope," and that a fleet seemed to be anchored outside Fiumicino Port. He immediately brought Baron Bergeron here.
Fleet Commander Luca waved a hand at his staff officer. "Send another report to Paris in the fleet's name."
"Damn it, other than filing reports, what