Chapter sixMay 1945
Fiume
Ettore awoke groggily, an unknown surface hard and cold beneath him.
The air was foul and stuffy. A throbbing pain in his side made him afraid to open his eyes. When he did, it took a few moments for his surroundings to come into focus.
‘He’s awake,’ he heard someone say.
Ettore was helped to a sitting position. A metal cup of water was proffered. He sipped from it, though the water tasted oily and stale. ‘Where?’ he asked.
‘Can’t answer that exactly,’ said the man by his side. Ettore lifted his heavy lids and peered at him.
Edrico, the banker.
He looked around and saw four other men, one he recognised—Roberto—the painter, still alive, though his head was wrapped in a bloodied cloth.
‘We’re in a hold somewhere,’ Edrico said, sweeping his grubby hand acros
