Legacy of Sorrows (32 page)

The two terrorists, Gilardi and Bari were in the lounge watching an American War Movie on the main television set. Although their grasp of English was very poor, they were, nevertheless, engrossed in the re-enactment of the D Day landings portrayed there. They were relaxed as they could be in a hostage situation. The outside door and bedroom windows were locked, and the only telephone was in with them. The old couple were now giving them no trouble so nothing could go wrong. They only had to wait it out until Lorenzo phoned.

The sound of the blasts was deafening in the small lounge. Gilardi, who was closest to the windows, was showered with shards of broken glass and debris and was catapulted by the force of the blast from his armchair onto the floor. Bari, who was totally disorientated by the confusion surrounding him, managed to draw his weapon and make an unsteady dash for the lounge door.

The wall of sound and light that followed as the stun grenades went off threw him to the ground. Through the pain in his eyes, Bari could just make out the dim shape of figures coming in through the windows and raised his weapon to fire. It was his last act as Craig shot him twice in the head.

Gilardi, who had missed the worst of the grenades effects as he was already on the floor when they exploded, raised himself up on one knee and was about to fire at Craig when Jock dropped him with two shots in quick succession to the head.

Mike and Brian had stayed in the bedroom with the Corti's on the Team Leaders orders. They were both focused and in the crouch position now, with their weapons raised and pointing at the door. They would remain that way until they got the all clear from the team leader to stand down. When the team had confirmed the couple had been on their own, Jock had communicated with them that their role was now to protect the old couple by remaining with them in the bedroom.

The Corti's were totally confused at the fast acting drama they had been part of and were huddled together on the floor behind a settee where Mike had put them.

The first thing Jock did as he came in through the bedroom door with Craig was to check out the old couple for injuries. Apart from being deafened by all the explosions, they were both fine and in good spirits. He relaxed and smiled at the other three CTT members.

‘Well done lads, I'm proud of you all. You performed like real professionals.' He then spoke into his throat mike. ‘Alpha Tango this is Alpha one, over.' Through the static, he heard Peter answer straight away. ‘Alpha one, go ahead, over.'

‘House secure, two bandits down and hostages released unharmed. No team casualties. Over and out.'

Two Ambulances came to take the Cortis' and the two terrorists' bodies away. The Cortis' to an Army base Medical Reception Station, to be given the once over by an Army Medic before release into the safe hands of M15. The two terrorists' bodies were removed in the other Ambulance by MI5 and were never seen again.

The National and local papers reported the incident the next day as: ‘A gas explosion in a top floor flat in Queens Park drive in Glasgow has left substantial damage to the windows and to some of the internal fabric of the flat. There is no indication as to what caused it at this stage, and there were no reported casualties. The police and gas board are investigating.'

The CTT were taken off by chopper and arrived back at base for a debriefing just after five pm. Peter greeted the team with a beaming smile. Hostages released unharmed, two terrorists dead, and no team casualties. This, and no evidence of an operation ever having taken place was just the type of result the SAS liked. It had taken the team just over three hours from briefing to successful return. The Prime Minister, Margaret Thatcher, personally phoned the Duty Officer to express her gratitude for a job well done, and had asked to speak to the team leader. Jock was delighted to speak to speak to the PM, and took the opportunity to praise his team.

By five thirty pm, Marco received a welcome phone call from his Dad explaining in an excitable voice the day's events.

Chapter 12

L
orenzo
got the news of the events in Glasgow shortly after six pm. His contact there didn't know all of the details, but it was evident that things had gone very wrong. He had telephoned the flat in Glasgow, from a public phone box to verify for himself what the situation was and when a gruff Scots accent answered, he hung up very quickly. Lorenzo was a very resourceful man and in his mind he very quickly ran through the options he had left. Obviously, there had to be a change in plans, as Marco wouldn't now be handing the briefcase over to him at the agreed time. He made another phone call, this time to his accomplice Stalin, and arranged to meet him at six thirty pm that night in the bar he always used.

Anna and Marco lifted their celebratory glasses of wine and toasted the day's events. Marco was so relieved that his parents had been rescued. He felt so physically and emotionally drained he had promised himself that after this glass of wine he would soak in the bath, and have an early night. Anna emptied her glass and set it down on the table. ‘I suggest we postpone the retrieval until tomorrow morning. We're both very tired tonight, and it's starting to get dark. What do you think?'

Marco looked at her with a steady gaze before saying, ‘yes, that makes good sense. Perhaps you would like to stay for a while and have some more wine?'

Before Anna could answer there was a loud knock at the door.

‘Who is it' Marco said in a loud voice, slightly annoyed at the interruption.

‘Laundry service,' said an Italian voice.

‘That's strange at this time of the day.' said Anna. The staff must be behind their work.'

Marco walked warily to the door, and as he turned the handle to open it, the door was kicked very hard in his face, sending him sprawling to the floor. A man, of medium height and weight entered the room. He closed the door behind him and motioned with the gun in his hand for Marco to get up. Anna rushed over to help him to his feet and with blood pouring from his nose he staggered to the bed. ‘Who the fuck are you?' he managed to say, although still dazed from the blow.

‘Never mind who I am, it's not important. What is important is the little journey we're going to make. Please be assured Mr Corti that unless you do exactly as I say, I will not hesitate to kill your little friend here.'

‘Where are we going' said Marco. The stranger, with a look of contempt on his face, said ‘that's up to you Mr Corti. My interests lie in the documents hidden somewhere nearby, and your going to show me where.' He turned to Anna and pointed his gun at her head. ‘If you try to get funny and stall for time, I will not hesitate to shoot her in the head. She is of no interest to me Mr Corti, but I suspect she is of interest to you. I have had some target practice lately using talkative women in police cells, so you know I'm serious.'

Marco's mind was working overtime. Who was this man? Was he a communist or Red Brigade? Could he think of some way of overcoming him? How could he buy some time?

The man pointed to Marco's jacket lying on the bed. ‘Pick up your jacket please and sit down again.

‘Did you really kill Laura Moscardini? ‘Said Marco.

‘You sound surprised Mr Corti. Yes, I did, it was really quite an easy operation to accomplish. The Carabinieri were quite easily fooled.

‘What about Anna?' Marco said anxiously. The man looked back at Marco and answered, My friend downstairs is coming up to look after her until we return with the letters, and if we don't return with them, then there will be a nasty accident tonight. Someone may fall from your balcony, or perhaps could be the subject of a robbery, and killed in the process. I have not worked out the details yet.' Marco picked up his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed. He put the jacket over his knees and appeared occupied in trying to stem the flow of blood from his nose. His shirt was turning bright red from the flow. ‘What's your friend downstairs doing?' he said. The man gave a short laugh. ‘He's getting rid of some rats that may cause us a problem later on.'

Lorenzo walked along the road parallel to the hotel for a while before turning left. His intention was to walk back down the street facing the hotel to check if anyone was sitting there in a car watching the entrance in case he turned up. The secretary had told him that two SISI agents were on their way to Lucca and he suspected they would be ordered to watch Corti's and Bastiani's back. He had given his accomplice orders to keep the couple in the room under the threat of a gun until he arrived. He would then stay with the woman in the hotel while Stalin would recover the briefcase with Corti.

As he walked up the street, he saw a parked Fiat with two men sitting in the front seats facing the hotel. He stopped to take this in and plan his next move. He opened his Anorak jacket, removed a hunting knife from its sheath in his belt, and deftly slashed a large hole in the left hand pocket of the jacket. He replaced the knife back in its sheath, then took out his Beretta semi-automatic and attached a silencer to it. He took off the safety catch and put the gun inside his jacket with the silencer sticking out through the hole. He again walked down the street and approached the Fiat car from the passenger's side. As he was level with it he slowed down, took aim, and fired at the passengers head. He heard the soft phut of the gun, and saw the targets head disintegrate. Slowly a red stain spread on what was left of the window glass. The driver turned his head round to look at what had happened and Lorenzo fired again. This time the driver's body lurched forward and draped itself over the steering wheel, blood oozing from the head wound.

He continued walking up the street to the hotel and entered through the main doors without anyone noticing anything suspicious. His gun was out of sight, but his finger was still on the trigger.