I’ll have to do this from memory and I will explain why later on. In the town of Mestre, a dozen me were found beaten to death in an alley. The men in question were found with several cases of firearms. Each of the victims has links to organized crime and were suspected in several area crimes. An inventory of the weapons revealed that it looked like a few guns had gone missing from their places. Finally, there were no witnesses.
After I read the police report, I book marked it in my favorites. When I came back to it I discovered the bookmark gone and the e-mail was missing. Also my computers cookies had been deleted. I’m not sure how any of this happened, but I have only my word to prove what I have seen. I wish I had more.
To the mysterious person who is obviously reading these posts, I would love to talk to you and figure out why me. I have so many questions. Please contact me again.
Anyway, here’s this weeks letter.
I sadly report on our utter failure to rescue Maria Cavallaro from the mountain stronghold of the Klaus Schuler. Christina and I had decided on an approach from the south, it was less steep and offered more cover from the house in the form of large rock outcroppings. There had been some debate on a different approach but with my disease it was decide they would be impossible. It is times like this I damn my bad legs and the effect they’ve had on my life.
We outfitted ourselves with weapons from the cases we had commandeered in the alley. I took a Walther. I know they’re not particularly favorable by the various family members, but it is the weapon father taught me to shoot with. They have always had a special place in my heart despite any shortcomings my siblings may feel they have.
Christina took a pair of Glock’s and an automatic rifle. She also had some body armor for both of us. She took a few grenades designed to make a lot of noise and stun the occupants of a room. Her last piece of gear was a series of small blades suitable for throwing or quietly dispatching a man from behind. I suppose it shouldn’t be a surprise how well she equipped herself after she spent that time working with the Russian Spetsnaz.
Going in just before sunrise, we moved slowly and deliberately across the landscape. We made it to the house without raising an alarm. Lifting ourselves onto a back porch, Christina used her tools to quickly pick the lock. We entered and moved slowly through the house. We took each room slowly, covering one another to make sure nothing happened. It took the better part of an hour to completely search the house.
There was no one there. They had fled before we arrived. We searched the residence and found the computers scrubbed and formatted. There were no notes, no travel plans. It was a dead end.
Christina decided to take one of the laptops to have one of her contacts check it and see just how well they cleaned it. Hopefully we will get some indication of where to go next.
We will be meeting the team next week. We’ve arrived at the time of our first scheduled meeting. Hopefully, they will have good news.
As always, my love.
Your youngest son
J. P. Nussbaum