Sicily lay south of Italy, in the middle of the Mediterranean Sea. Shaped roughly like a triangle, its northeastern tip faced the Apennine Peninsula across the three-kilometer-wide Strait of Messina.
The island boasted crystal-clear water and a beautiful seabed, drawing crowds of tourists to Sicily's beaches every year to soak up the sun.
So when a group of people in jackets, dressed like tourists, stepped off a plane and headed toward the beach, few passersby gave them a second glance. Their tour group was a little large and moved in a slightly odd formation, but nothing more.
"How much longer?"
Cornelius pinched his glued-on mustache and spoke in a low voice.
Their objective was too important for him to make an official visit to Italy. Instead, he had entered the country disguised as a Greek tourist.
That left him uneasy. If Italian agents recognized him, they could cause serious trouble for his mission.
"Soon. We're almost there." Alix strode ahead, giving the president's question only a perfunctory answer.
Ever since he had arrived in Sicily, he had felt a powerful pull guiding him toward a certain place. He believed it was a revelation from God. Once he reached that place, he was sure he would obtain the legendary Golden Apple.
Cornelius nodded. Anxious as he was, he knew this was not something he could rush.
With Alix leading the way, the group left town and climbed a volcano.
"I can feel it. It's right here."
Alix stopped. The powerful feeling vanished the moment he reached this spot. Losing God's guidance left him briefly bereft, but excitement soon swept that feeling away.
"Here?"
Cornelius's expression turned grave. He surveyed their surroundings. A thick layer of volcanic cinders covered the ground, and solidified lava lay everywhere. Even where he stood, he could