Artemis Fowl had deja vu so bad it wasn't even funny. How many times had he sat in a restaurant, waiting for a business contact? The answer was: Too many. One such meeting had led to Butler being shot and the near-discovery of the fairy world by a megalomaniac American businessman, for goodness' sake.

Butler, as usual, was flitting through the Venice bistro, checking for the best exit spots and placing booby traps in case the Italian they were meeting turned out to be another Jon Spiro. Artemis sighed.

"Butler, I have full faith in your protection alone. Those stun grenades will likely not be needed."

Butler went right on with planting the LEP stun grenades under the table. "Never hurts to be prepared, Artemis. Feliciano Vargas is a very dangerous man."

Artemis looked surprised, but only slightly. "Why, when we spoke on the phone, he sounded quite harmless to me." But he knew that his bodyguard was right, as usual. This was the don of of the Mafia in Italy they were talking about. Not a title to take lightly, under any circumstances.

Butler finished priming the last voice-activated grenade and took his place at Artemis's shoulder.

Seconds later, as if at a prearranged signal, the doors blew open and three men walked in.

The one on the left was a short, thin Japanese man with jet-black hair, brown eyes, and an unreadable expression. Butler whispered into Artemis's ear: "That's Kiku Honda, the family's consigliere and one of Vargas's bodyguards." Artemis nodded assent, watching as Honda stood silently, holding the door for the other two.

The next man to enter looked like he could go ten rounds with Butler and still come out smiling. He was a few inches shorter than the massive Eurasian, but he was just as bulky. He had slicked-back blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a stern expression on his face. "Ludwig Beilschmidt," Butler muttered. Artemis could detect a note of respect in his voice. "KSK operative turned mercenary. He went dark a couple of years ago. I was wondering what had happened to the man."

Beilschmidt stood at attention next to the door, allowing the third man to enter. He was a little man in an expensive suit, with auburn hair and an insanely happy look. His eyes seemed to be shut, and there was a strange curl of hair peeking out from under his fedora. He simply radiated happy energy. Obviously, he was Artemis's complete opposite. This was, of course, Feliciano Vargas.

Kiku Honda and Ludwig Beilschmidt took up their places at Vargas's shoulders. But they had to walk quickly, as Vargas immediately bounced over to Artemis's table.

"Ve~! You are Artemis Fowl, si?"

Artemis was slightly taken aback by this but he extended a hand and said, "Correct. You are Feliciano Vargas, I presume?"

Vargas wrung Artemis's hand with surprising strength for such a small man. "Veee~! I am! I am!" He sat down in the chair across from Artemis, gesturing for Beilschmidt and Honda to join them. They complied, taking up standard security positions at Vargas's shoulders.

Butler and Beilschmidt glared at each other for a few seconds, then cleared their throats and inclined their heads.

"Herr Butler. So this is where you ended up," Beilschmidt rumbled in a thick German accent.

Butler nodded. "Seems so."

Artemis sighed. "Can we please at least order lunch?"

"Ve~! Si!" Vargas said happily. He snapped his fingers, and a passing waiter ran over.

"W-what can I get you, sir?" he asked shakily.

Artemis was surprised. "You can get service this quickly here?"

"Ve~, not usually, but I own the restaurant, so..."

Butler and Artemis stiffened. If Vargas owned the restaurant, then they might have unwittingly walked into a trap. They had scheduled a meeting with the mafia kingpin three days ago; Vargas would have had ample time to set up a trap. This was starting to look like London all over again.

Beilschmidt noticed their reactions. He raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong?"

Butler had already begun calculating how to get Artemis out when Kiku Honda spoke up for the first time.

"Please, gentlemen," he said, almost in a whisper. "We have no reason to ambush you. If Mister Vargas wanted you dead, I assure you, you would have been at the bottom of a canal long ago."

Artemis shivered slightly at Honda's bluntness. Butler did not look one bit placated, as his hand was hovering threateningly near his shoulder holster. Beilschmidt had one hand on Vargas's shoulder and another on the butt of an old Walther pistol on his hip. The tension here was close to snapping. Then...

"Pastaaa~!" The cry startled Artemis, Butler, Beilschmidt, and Honda. They all stared at Vargas. The Don of Northern Italy was looking at a menu, seemingly oblivious to the tense atmosphere.

Artemis coughed. "Um, what?"

"I said pastaaa~! That's what I would like! What about you?"

Artemis picked up his own menu warily. "I suppose that pasta will be fine."

"Anything to drink? Wine?"

"Mr. Vargas, I'm underage."

"Nonsense! Nobody's too young for wine!" Vargas turned to the terrified waiter and spoke in rapid Italian that Artemis could barely pick up. He made a mental note to brush up on it when they returned to Fowl Manor. He tried to pick up a few snippets of the conversation

"But signore, the boy is underage. I cannot, in good conscience..."

Vargas smiled brightly. But in a flash, a knife appeared in his hand. It was about twelve inches long, and deadly sharp. He drove it into the table between the waiter's fingers.

"You were saying?" Vargas asked sweetly.

The waiter looked as if he would pass out, but he nodded and scurried off to the kitchen. Vargas yanked the blade out of the table and turned back to Artemis with his sunny smile still painted on his face.

"Ve~! All settled now!"

Artemis was now thoroughly spooked, but he kept his feelings down. Funny how a little man in a suit could be scarier than an army of thugs. Although Vargas probably had an army of thugs, too.

"Um, yes. Now, Mr. Vargas, would you mind explaining why you invited me here to Venice?"

"Ve~! Please, call me Feliciano! But yes, I will explain, I guess. I actually have some troubles with the Russian Mafiya."

Artemis choked on air. Butler shivered. The Russian Mafiya had been responsible for the kidnapping of his father, and only good planning, Captain Holly Short's quick thinking, and a lot of luck had allowed them to stay alive. Even for a man of Vargas's standing and power, the Mafiya were a formidable opponent.

"So, um, Feliciano, you are asking me for help with the Mafiya? I don't know why you would consider me an expert on combating them. I don't believe that I have ever met them in battle before."

Vargas snapped his fingers. Honda opened the briefcase he carried and handed Artemis several photos dated to several years ago. They showed Artemis, Butler, and Commander Julius Root watching a large group of Russian thugs swarm over a rusting submarine and across the tundra.

"Ve~, this is a picture of you, Butler, and some midget man accomplice. I don't know who he us, but let me say one thing." Vargas leaned in and widened his grin, making Artemis flinch. "Lie to me again, Master Fowl, and I'll make you a very unhappy boy~!"

Artemis gulped. "Um..."

"Don't worry~!" Feliciano sat back. "I'm not going to kill you now~!" He pointed back to the picture. "That was taken from about five hundred feet above the Nikodim. You really need to make bug scans before you enter an area, Artemis. Take it from me~!"

Artemis sat back and let out a breath. "So, what do you need from me?"

Vargas's smile disappeared, to be replaced by a grim look. "The Mafiya have my brother. I need him back. And I need your help."