“Speaking of which, what can you tell us about Antonio Vottari?” Harvath asked.
The Italian held up his hand. “First, you’re going to tell me everything you know about Mustapha Marzouk. Then, we’ll have a discussion about La Formícula.”
CHAPTER 64
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Harvath’s team was given a place to sleep. One of Argento’s men made coffee. It was after midnight when they got down to business.
Harvath shared everything he knew. There was no sense in holding back. The Italians were aware that American Intelligence had been looking for Mustapha Marzouk. They were also aware of chatter about impending terror attacks in Europe. What they didn’t know was how the two were connected.
From how the laptop of doom had been discovered and what it contained, to everything that had gone down at Burning Man and in Libya, he walked Argento through all of it.
The Italian listened intently, interrupting only occasionally to ask a question or probe for more information.
When Harvath had finished, he set his coffee cup down on the table and leaned back on the couch.
Argento had his laptop out. On it was the audio they had recorded from the bartender’s apartment. He listened to it several times, smoking a cigarette and making notes as he did.
There were several things he wanted Ragusa to clarify, and he ran his list of questions by Harvath. As any good investigator would, he wanted all the details, no matter how small. How was the mobster planning to get Marzouk to Rome? Where was the drop-off? Was he supposed to provide him with new identification documents? Was he supposed to provide a phone or a new SIM card? Money? Clothing? The list went on.
Once he had written down everything he could think of, he handed the questions to one of his ROS operatives and sent him to interrogate Ragusa.
Then, he turned the conversation to La Formícula, Antonio Vottari, and the Calabrian Mafia known as the N’drangheta.
Having seen the barbarity of organized crime up close, Argento despised it every bit as much as Harvath did. He made no secret of his contempt. But like any wise, experienced warrior, he also respected his enemy—especially what they were capable of.
Like the Cosa Nostra of Sicily and the Camorra of Campania, the N’drangheta of Calabria were ruthless.
So thoroughly capable was the Mafia of getting to anyone who stood in its way that Carabinieri were required to work outside their home region for eight years before they could be trusted to apply for a transfer to come back.
It was said that 70 percent of the Carabinieri came from the four Italian regions most plagued by organized crime. Faced with a choice between good and evil, they chose good. They chose to side with law and justice. They were noble men and women engaged in a tough, dangerous fight.
And nobody knew that better than Paolo Argento.
“Okay,” he said, opening a folder on his laptop and bringing up a photo. “Let’s talk about Antonio Vottari.”
Harvath and Lovett moved closer to each other so they could see.
“Antonio is the nephew of Franco Vottari. The Vottaris are one of the most powerful families in the Calabrian Mafia. The N’drangheta is considered one of the richest and most powerful organized crime groups in the world.
“They are known for their extreme violence. Of all its families, the Vottaris are considered one of the most brutal. Antonio, like his uncle Franco, is known for his savagery.
“He’s small. That’s how he received his nickname.”
“La Formícula,” said Harvath. “The Ant.”
“Exactly,” replied Argento as he clicked through pictures of Antonio, as well as bloody crime scene photos. “But make no mistake, he’s extremely dangerous. Deadly even.
“The N’drangheta have their hands in everything—they traffic in drugs, weapons, prostitution, fraud, extortion, political corruption, contract killing, even black market artifacts looted out of North Africa and the Middle East. If there’s money to be made in something illegal, you’ll find them there.”
Harvath was trying to connect all the dots. “So ISIS pays Umar Ali Halim to smuggle Marzouk from Libya to Italy. Members of the Black Axe, under Ragusa’s control, are sent out to meet him near the island of Lampedusa and bring him to shore. Once Marzouk’s feet are dry, Ragusa is supposed to smuggle him to Rome, where he has people who will get him to his final destination. All of which, Ragusa is doing as a favor for Antonio Vottari. Why?”
“Good question,” Argento answered. “The different Mafia networks have been known to work together, but there’s always something in it for them. Ragusa wasn’t helping La Formícula out of the kindness of his heart. There had to be some sort of transaction.”
“And what’s the Vottari–ISIS connection?” Lovett asked.
“Also a good question and probably even easier to answer. Obviously, ISIS didn’t have a smuggling relationship in Italy. They did, apparently, have a relationship with Vottari and asked him to arrange a smuggler to get Marzouk into Italy and up to Rome.
“Was this a relationship based on looted artifacts? Drugs? Weapons? All of those are possible. ISIS has been making strong inroads with different Mafia groups in southern Italy.”
“If you had to guess,” asked Harvath, “which would you pick?”
Argento shrugged. “Drugs or stolen artifacts make the most sense. That’s all ISIS really has to offer, unless they’re buying weapons.”
“Which could be paid for with artifacts, drugs, or cash.”
“Correct.”
“They could have also been buying explosives. The attacks in Spain and Paris might end up leading right back to Vottari.”
“Or they could have come from another source entirely,” the Italian responded. “In this case, Vottari may be nothing more than a middleman. ISIS needed a smuggler and he made the introduction to Ragusa.”
Harvath was growing frustrated. There had to be something. Something he was missing. “What if Vottari was lying to Ragusa?” he asked.
“About what?”
“About Mustapha Marzouk having his own people in Rome—people who would get him to his final destination,” said Harvath.
“Why would he lie about that?”
“I can think of two reasons. The one that makes the most sense is for operational security purposes. The less Ragusa knew about Marzouk’s final destination the better.”
Argento nodded. “Agreed. What’s the second reason?”
Harvath was a lot less sure of number two, but he shared it anyway. “What if Rome was Marzouk’s final destination? What if that’s where the attack was supposed to take place?”
Lovett felt a chill run down her spine as a terrible thought took hold of her mind. “Oh my God,” she uttered.
Both men turned to look at her.
“What is it?” asked Harvath.
“What if the attack is still on? What if ISIS has already found a replacement chemist?”
Before anyone could say another word, Argento pulled out his phone and dialed a highly classified number.
CHAPTER 65
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