Sunday, September 13th, three o'clock in the morning. In a Venice back street, a man runs breathlessly.
On his heels come three thugs armed to the teeth. The man succeeds in escaping his pursuers—for just enough time to break the window of a travel agency... for just enough time to scribble a few words onto a sheet of paper and stick it into a fax machine...
Two seconds later the man is dead, riddled with bullets; but the fax is sent. And on it is written: “Largo Winch, beware of the doge and of...”
Two seconds later the man is dead, riddled with bullets; but the fax is sent. And on it is written: “Largo Winch, beware of the doge and of...”