The moment my boots hit the unforgiving ground of the Paros cove, the noise of the helicopter retreated, leaving behind the immense, echoing silence of military readiness. The air was cool, carrying the scent of dry earth and impending death. I was surrounded by the best of my own men and the most loyal of Domenico's, all shadows waiting for the signal.

Domenico met me by a cluster of jagged rocks, away from the immediate sight of the men. His face, illuminated by the faint tactical lights, was ...