“I’ve got it!” came an excited cry in Italian as the short man entered the villa. Carlos Orsini was a short man, only five foot four, and had a small build. His green eyes, light brown hair and young face would have made him seem around twelve where it not for his full beard. His right hand was being waved enthusiastically above his head. In it was a rolled up piece of parchment, presumably that was whatever it was that he had just acquired.

Hunter and his other companions stopped playing cards and looked up. Vali Korzha was an ox of a man standing half a head taller than Hunter with broad shoulders and a muscular build. His shaved head, smoky blue eyes and strong features that were almost always set in a scowl made him an intimidating individual. It was one of the reasons why Hunter had hired him in the first place. The other man at the table was Jacques D'Artagnan, a tall French nobleman, though not as tall as Hunter or Vali. He like Hunter had strikingly handsome features, though unlike Hunter he had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

“And just what have you got?” Jacques replied disinterestedly in French. The group was multi-lingual and had a habit of using their native tongue in conversations. It made working out what they were saying very difficult unless you also spoke Italian, French and Romanian. Carlso had thought it funny to see the confused faces of passersby as they chatted in three different languages.

“I’ll show you,” the Italian said with a broad grin as he marched towards the table. Hunter, Vali and Jacques quickly grabbed their money before Carlos swept everything aside and unrolled his prize. The others stared at it with a mixture of amazement and confusion.

“Where did you get this?” Hunter asked. Di Vinci designs were not something you could pick up on a market stall. They all were in the hands of some nobleman or other. While many of the designs were considered impossible by most of the other scientific minds of the day there was no denying that the man was a genius and so the designs were held onto with fierce jelousy by nobles incase they turned out to work. Also they were great status symbols.

“Doesn’t matter,” Carlos replied and he headed to the stairs and called up “Maurice! I’ve got it.” The other three looked at one another. If Carlos wasn’t about to regale them with the tale of how he managed to procure such a rare prize then it meant he had a bigger one in mind. It looked like Maurice was in on it which could only mean trouble. Maurice Pevensey was an old friend of Jacques. Older than the others, save Hunter, Maurice was in his late thirties. Of the group he was the most nondescript. Average height and build with plain features and brown hair and eyes he could blend in with crowds much better than any of them. Maurice was the schemer of the group. He always had some crazy plan that would get them into trouble. When he teamed up with Carlos it promised to be trouble. It also promised to be very exciting.

Maurice appeared at the top of the stairs with a grin to match Carlos. “Excellent,” he said with a glee the belied his years as he hurried down the stairs. Rushing to the table he began to survey the plans muttering to himself about materials and construction.

“Would one of you two stop grinning long enough to explain what is going on?” Hunter asked.

“What is going on my friend,” Carlos said with a broad smile as he clapped a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, “Is you are going to fly.”

Hunter, Vali and Jacques just stared at the grinning Italian in disbelief. “While Hunter has many great powers,” Vali said cautiously, “Flight is not one of them.”

“But marvellous strength is,” Maurice piped up as he finished looking over the plans, “This designe is base on the wings of a bat. Normal people cannot flap their arms hard enough that this harness will lift them off the ground. But you my friend just might.”

“And dare I ask why you are trying to get me to fly?” Hunter asked cautiously.

“You are aware of the Graziani estate?” Carlos asked with a sly smile. Hunter nodded. Graziani were a wealthy merchant family who specialised in the sale of exotic jewellery from all around the world. Hunter had an idea where this was going. “We’ll Maurice has a plan to relieve them of a significant portion of their stash of jewellery.”

Before anyone could ask for more details Maurice motioned them upstairs. With a sign the three of them followed with Carlos. Maurice led them to his room. It was almost always filled with maps and plans as the Frenchman plotted his next crazy idea. The most prevalent plans were of the Graziani estate and some maps of the surrounding area. On the table was a large map of the estate with an assortment of small wooden figures on them. Maurice somehow found out the common patrol route of the guards and the figures were to display that. At a glance Hunter could see that the place was very secure and sneaking in via conventional methods was unlikely to work.

“I’ve looked at this from every angle,” Maurice explained as the others gathered round, “And sneaking in is just not going to happen. Fighting our way in isn’t really an option either. The guards for the Graziani estate amount to a small army. So I’ve had to think outside the box. Rather than slip past the guards or try and fight them we’re going to scare them away. Imagine the sight of a winged monster flying towards you in the middle of the night?”

He paused while the others looked at one another. As usual the plan was ridiculous and full of risk. It also might work if they could get the harness sorted and would be a great adventure. The beginnings of a smile were starting to creep into the corners of Hunter and Jacques’s mouths. Taking that as an agreement Maurice continued to explain the finer details. And so it was that Hunter and his companions were planning to steal a fortune in jewels from the Graziani estate using one of Leonardo Di Vinci’s flying machines.

Giovanni Lombardi was an exceptional carpenter. At least that’s what Carlos claimed. Hunter wasn’t so sure now he was standing in the man’s workshop. The place was a mess. Scrap pieces of wood lay scattered about the place along with what looked like half finished projects. His tools seemed to be heaped in a pile off to one side. Somehow the man managed to shove a hand into the pile and pull something out without cutting himself. Signore Lombardi wasn’t a craftsman who inspired confidence either. Balding with a bushy grey beard the man was overweight, in his earlier fifties and appeared quite drunk. The bottle of amaretto that was sitting open off to one side wasn’t helping to dispel that image.

Maurice and Carlos were going over the plans with him now. Jacques had spotted a beautiful woman just before they had gotten here and typically headed off after her telling them he’d meet up with them later. That left Hunter and Vali standing in possibly the messiest carpentry shop in all of Italy staring at the chaos around them.

“Are you sure about this?” Vali asked. Of all of them the big Romanian was the most level headed. While he was the strong silent type when he did speak he was often the voice of reason that had managed to save them from rushing into something that would get them into more trouble than they could handle.

“No,” Hunter replied honestly, “But Carlos and Maurice want this job to go well. If they didn’t think the man could do it then they would find someone else.” One thing you could count on about Carlos and Maurice was that they wanted their plans to succeed. They wouldn’t cut corners to save time and money. Judging by the figures he could hear being debated between them and the carpenter this wasn’t going to be cheap.

“So you think this will work?” asked Vali. A man flying seemed too farfetched too him, even for someone as incredible as Hunter.

“No idea,” answered Hunter, “But Di Vinci was a genius. If anyone could work out how to make a man fly it would be him. So long as signore Lombardi can build to the plans there’s every chance it could work.” Truthfully Hunter was excited. If all went according to plan he would be the first person to every fly. Of course there was also a distinct possibility that he would just crash face first into the ground. Still nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Finally it seemed like Carlos and Maurice had come to an agreement with signore Lombardi and money was exchanged. And awful lot of money. Vali raised a questioning eyebrow as the pair made came back to them. “It’ll be worth it,” Carlos assured them, “Giovanni Lombardi is...”

“The best carpenter in all of Naples,” Hunter finished, “We know. You told us several times on the way here. He’d just better be worth the price you’re paying him.” The wing harness was costing them almost all of the money they had. If this heist went wrong they’d be left completely out of pocket. That was something Hunter was not willing to stand.

“Where is Jacques?” Maurice asked looking around for his missing companion.

“I know,” Hunter replied with a smile. It wasn’t hard to work out which tavern the wily Frenchman would have lured the unsuspecting maiden too. “Wait here. I’ll go and get him.” Hunter headed for the nearby tavern where he and Jacques had seduced many a young maiden together and relieved them of their virtue.

Upon entering Hunter could spot neither his companion nor an appropriate huddle of young women. Heading to the bar he gave Edoardo a nod. The stocky man returned the nod. “Afternoon signore Antonescu,” he said as he scratched his rust coloured beard, “What can I get you.”

“Nothing for the moment,” Hunter replied in Italian with a smile, “I’m looking for Jacques.”

“Ah,” said Edoardo with knowing smile, “he’s in the usual room.”

Hunter smiled appreciatively and slid a silver coin to the man. They’d come to an arrangement that they’d slip Edoardo a little something every time they came in and in return he’d keep a back room for them whenever they needed it. While often it was for a little harmless fun on occasion it had proved invaluable in more dubious uses. Edoardo was content to take the money and didn’t ask questions. It was the way Hunter liked it.

As he approached the room he could hear Jacques recounting a fanciful tale of how he had rescued a mother and child from vicious bandits. His audience of four young maidens were listening with baited breath. “So there I, was foolishly having left my sword back at the villa. I was only going for a relaxing ride, who knew I would run across such a scene?” he asked his audience. There were sounds of agreement from the girls. “Thinking quickly I reached down and snatched up a tree branch...”

“Unfortunately as he did so one of the bandits struck his on the back of the head with his spear butt,” Hunter interrupted as he entered the room, “Poor Jacques was knocked out cold. But all was not lost. Jacques owed me some coin from our card game the night before. So I had set out to look for him. I came across the scene just as the bandits knocked him out. Unlike my friend I never leave home without my sword.” He illustrated his point by sliding the rapier at his hip and inch or so out of the scabbard and letting it drop back in.

Now he had all the maidens’ undivided attention. Jacques was scowling at him but knew there wasn’t anything he could do without losing face further. “And so without a moment to lose I leapt from my horse,” Hunter continued, “and charged the bandits.”

“All ten of them?” one of the girls asked in amazement.

Hunter rose a questioning eyebrow at Jacques. While the man was no slouch with a sword he’d be outmatched by half that number. Jacques merely grinned and shrugged in reply. “Indeed. I am after all the foremost swordsman in all of Romania after all. Once I’d seen off the bandits I gave the poor mother and child some money to help them on their way. Then I took Jacques back to the villa so his wound could be treated.”

The young maidens were making little noises of approval. Three were moving close to Hunter, batting their eyelashes at him suggestively. One had gone to Jacques and was stroking the side of his head tenderly. Jacques played up the wound and allowed the girl to play nursemaid to him. “The others are waiting,” Hunter told Jacques in Romanian.

“But look at them my friend,” Jacques replied in French almost pleadingly, “They’re just so...”

“Quite,” Hunter cut him off, “But we haven’t the time.” Switching back to Italian he said, “Ladies I am terribly sorry but there is urgent business that we must attend to.” There was a collective sound of disappointment from the four as Hunter rose to leave.

Reluctantly Jacques got to his feet also, “But fear not,” he assured the maidens, “For we shall return. We shall see you here later this evening.” Hunter rolled his eyes as he and Jacques left offering the girls a parting smile. Once out of sight he punched Hunter in the arm. “I had all four of them lapping up my every word!” he complained.

“But with your head injury you must be more careful,” Hunter replied with a grin, “So I took three of them off your hands for your own good.” He ducked another swipe as the pair of them headed back out into the street to meet the others. There was still more to do in preparation for the heist and pretty as the girls were they’d have to wait until tonight when, true to their word, Hunter and Jacques would return to keep them entertained.