"The driver twice called the embassy and Italy to say that we were heading towards the airport that I knew was heavily patrolled by US troops.

They told me that we were less than a kilometre away... when... I only remember fire.

At that point, a rain of fire and bullets hit us, silencing forever the cheerful voices of a few minutes earlier.

The driver started yelling that we were Italians. "We are Italians, we are Italians."

Nicola Calipari threw himself on me to protect me and immediately, I repeat, immediately I heard his last breath as he was dying on me.

I must have felt physical pain. I didn't know why.

But then it came to me in a flash, and my mind went immediately to the things the captors had told me.

They declared that they felt fully committed to freeing me but I had to be careful, 'Out there are the Americans, who don't want you to go back'.

Then, I had considered those words superfluous and ideological. But at that moment, they risked acquiring the flavour of the bitterest of truths. At this time I cannot tell you the rest."