Red Alert (12 page)

The helicopter banked slowly two hundred yards I the terrace then dived towards them, the rope lad hanging from the passenger door.

'You go first,' Graham shouted above the noise of 1 helicopter's rotors.

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Paluzzi shook his head. 'I owe you - ' 'You don't owe me anything,' Graham snapped back. 'Go first, no arguments.'

Paluzzi nodded, his eyes darting between the lift and the helicopter. The thirty-foot ladder brushed the railing and trailed across the terrace towards them. Paluzzi grabbed hold of one of the rungs halfway up with his left hand, the Spectre still clenched tightly in his right. The helicopter began to climb, lifting Paluzzi away from the terrace. Graham fired a burst at the lift as it came into view then jumped up to grab the last rung of the ladder as the helicopter rose away and started to turn towards |the lagoon. The Spectre spun from his hand and he was Sung against the railing. He caught the side of his head an one of the metal struts before he was pulled up over be railing into the air.

Two guards sprinted from the lift and fired at the etreating helicopter but within seconds it was out of ange, leaving them cursing at the railing. Blood streamed down the side of Graham's face and ; had to use all his willpower to stave off the unconscious that threatened to overpower him. His left hand lipped and for one terrifying moment all that prevented from falling the three hundred feet down on to the i below was the strength of his right hand on the last the ladder. His body swung precariously from side (side and his head was shaken violently. With a supreme he reached up with his left hand and clamped it ound the bottom rung again. He tried to pull himself > but it was no good, he just didn't have the energy. He ed his eyes, hoping that might stop his head spinning, ily seemed to make it worse. His fingers were slipping jtthe ladder. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into rope. It was no good. He was going to fall. His left

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hand began to slip from the ladder again. As it did a hand clasped his left wrist. He lifted his head painfully and saw Paluzzi above him. Paluzzi was shouting to him. He couldn't hear what he was saying. He gripped more tightly with his right hand and closed his eyes, the pain now unbearable in his head. He felt himself drifting into unconsciousness. His feet touched water. Then his ankles. Then his legs. He opened his eyes. He was being dragged through the water. Paluzzi shook Graham's wrist and mouthed the word 'jump'. Graham let himself fall backwards into the sea. Paluzzi dived in after him. He grabbed Graham under the arms to prevent his head from dipping under the water. Graham opened his mouth to speak, then sagged forward, unconscious, against Paluzzi.

The NOCS headquarters in Rome was a large grey building on the via Po, close to the grounds of the West German consulate. It was officially listed as an archive for the Ministry of Defence.

Paluzzi and Marco entered the building through the revolving door in the main entrance and walked to an unmarked door at the end of the long, cavernous hallway. They went inside and Paluzzi locked the door behind them. The room was lined with rows of shelving stacked * with cardboard boxes full of old files and dossiers. They crossed to the far wall and Marco activated the faqadej with a transmitter he had undipped from his belt. Thel wall slid back to reveal a soundproof metal door. Marco| punched an access code into the bellpush and the d slid open revealing a blue-carpeted corridor. He closed , again behind them, using a second combination which! caused the outside wall to slide back into place as wells| Paluzzi sent Marco to the computer suite to get a back no

ground on Boudien, then went to his office and listened to the messages on his answering machine. One was from Brigadier Michele Pesco, the unit's commander-in-chief, requesting that he report to his office as soon as he arrived. Paluzzi switched the machine off and went straight to Pescb's office.

Pesco was a tall man in his mid-forties whose cropped black hair surmounted cold blue eyes. He had been with the Brigate Cadore, one of the Italian army's five crack Alpine brigades, before his promotion to the NOCS to take over from his predecessor who had been killed while on a training exercise in the mountains of Sicily. His appointment had caused a lot of resentment among the men who had wanted, and expected, Paluzzi to get the post. Pesco had been in the job for three months and was still treated as an intrusive outsider. He and Paluzzi had never got on. Paluzzi resented Pesco's appointment, especially as his new superior had no previous experience f with the NOCS. And Pesco resented Paluzzi's popularity ^with the men. They only spoke to each other when necess ; ary. It was a problem known to Italy's joint chiefs-of-staff J:but they couldn't decide which of them to have transferred [to another unit. And neither man was prepared to back |down first. It had become a matter of pride.

Paluzzi knocked on Pesco's open door and entered the |ioom. Pesco was smoking his customary cigar, the thick noke drifting up into the extractor fan on the wall behind him . The two men acknowledged each other with a curt then Paluzzi turned to smile at Kolchinsky and abrina who were seated on the couch against the wall. 'Where's Mike?' Sabrina asked. 'He's at the San Giovanni Hospital,' Paluzzi replied nd immediately raised a hand to allay her anxiety. 'He's ay, don't worry.'

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'What happened?' Kolchinsky asked.

Paluzzi recounted the events briefly, culminating in their rescue from the sea by a coastguard helicopter answering Marco's mayday call.

'How bad is the wound?' she asked, the anxiety still on her face.

'He needed fourteen stitches. The doctors were more worried that the blow could have damaged his eyesight but they gave him the all-clear after a series of tests. They want him to remain in hospital overnight, just as a precaution. He wasn't too happy about that.'

'Well, he can just stay there,' Kolchinsky said, and looked at his watch. 'It's gone six-thirty. How long will it take us to get to Sant'Ivo from here?'

'It's about a ten-minute drive,' Paluzzi replied.

Til go with Major Paluzzi,' Sabrina offered.

'No you won't,' Kolchinsky replied firmly. 'You'rel working with Calvieri. I want you at the hotel where you I can keep an eye on him. I'll go with the Major.'

Sabrina sat back glumly and folded her arms across her| chest.

Pesco stubbed out his cigar and got to his feet. Kolchinsky, I'll leave you in Fabio's capable hands. I have a meeting with the joint chiefs-of-staff at eight-thirty.'

Kolchinsky stood up and shook Pesco's hand. 'Than you for your time, Brigadier.'

'Glad to be of help.' Pesco smiled at Sabrina. 'A pleasu meeting you, Miss Carver.'

She smiled back.

Pesco acknowledged Paluzzi with another nod and 1 the room.

'I presume from that show of affection there's lit love lost between the two of you,' Sabrina said, lookin at Paluzzi.

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'Sabrina, that's enough!' Kolchinsky chided her sharply.

'It's no secret,' Paluzzi told them. 'He's about as popular here as a pit viper in a rabbit hutch. He's never tried to fit in with the rest of us. Giuseppe Camerallo, his predecessor, was an inspiration to us. He led by example. He wouldn't expect us to do anything he wasn't prepared to do himself. Pesco hasn't even been on a training exercise with us yet. He's a desk man. The men don't want that. They want another Camerallo.'

'So why was he sent here?' Sabrina asked.

'Because he's a desk man. Paperwork was Camerallo's weakness. The auditors found the books in a total shambles when they came here after his death. That's why the top brass sent us Pesco. I was put in charge of field operations so it was only natural that the men looked to me as their new leader. Pesco can't accept that. He wants that respect himself. But he won't get it by sitting behind a desk all day. That's why he resents me so much.' Paluzzi sat on the edge of the desk. 'How was the trip to Venice?'

Sabrina told him what had happened.

'Have you identified the man who fired at you?'

'Brigadier Pesco sent my description of the man through to the computer suite ten minutes ago. There hasn't been any feedback yet.'

Paluzzi was about to ring through when Marco apeared at the door, a folder in his hand.

'I've got the information you wanted on Boudien. He .seems --' Marco paused when he noticed Kolchinsky and [Sabrina. 'Sorry, sir. I didn't realize you had company.'

'Come in, Angelo,' Paluzzi said, beckoning him into | the room. 'This is Sergei Kolchinsky, deputy director at IUNACO, and Sabrina Carver, Mike's partner. Lieutenant f Angelo Marco, my right-hand man.'

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Marco shook hands with them, then handed the folder to Paluzzi.

'Do me a favour, Angelo, see what's happened to the description Miss Carver sent through to be analysed in the identograph. It doesn't take ten minutes to come up with a name.'

Marco nodded and left the room.

Paluzzi tapped the folder. 'This is the info on Philippe Boudien, Karos's personal bodyguard. I'll have copies of it made for you before you leave.'

'Is he under surveillance?' Kolchinsky asked.

'Twenty-four-hour surveillance. And the phone line's been tapped. So far nothing.' Paluzzi moved round to Pesco's chair and sat down. 'Any news from your other operative? Whitlock, is it?'

Kolchinsky lit a cigarette and nodded. 'I got a call from him this afternoon. He and Young have booked into a boarding house in the city. Wiseman's staying at the Hassler-Villa Medici.'

Paluzzi whistled softly. 'He must have money to blow. That's one of the most expensive hotels in Rome.'

'His ex-wife inherited the Whiting shipyard outside New York. She sold it five years ago for close on a hundred million dollars. He got to keep the Lear jet, the ranch in Colorado and an estimated ten million when they were divorced last year.'

'Ten million and he's still drawing an army salary?^ I certainly wouldn't be slogging my guts out for the state if I had that kind of money in the bank.'

'The money isn't important to him. He's a soldier, first and foremost. And a good one, by all accounts.'

The telephone rang. Paluzzi answered it and punched a code into Pesco's desk computer as he listened to what Marco was saying.

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'Any luck?' Sabrina asked once Paluzzi had replaced the receiver.

Paluzzi nodded then pressed a 'print' button on the console. A facsimile of the two faces on the screen slid out from a narrow aperture in the side of the computer. He handed it to Sabrina.

'That's him all right,' she announced, handing the facsimile to Kolchinsky. 'But why two pictures?'

'Identical twins,' Paluzzi said. 'One has a mole on his right cheek. The other doesn't. That's the only way of telling them apart.'

Sabrina sat down beside Kolchinsky and looked at the facsimile again. 'You're right. It's uncanny.'

'Do you know which one you saw in Venice?' Paluzzi asked.

'The one with the mole on his cheek. I won't forget him in a hurry. Who are they?'

'Carlo and Tommaso Francia.'

'Who's who?' she asked.

'Carlo's the one you saw in Venice.' Paluzzi stared at the VDU. 'Which means Tommaso was the one in Corfu.'

'I thought you said you didn't see his face,' Kolchinsky said.

'I didn't, but they always work on the same assignments.'

'What does it say about them?' Kolchinsky asked, gesturing to the VDU.

Paluzzi pressed another button and the text came up on the screen. He read it through, translating it into English in his head. He finally looked up at them. 'They were born in Salerno in 1956 and orphaned at an early age. Both excelled as sportsmen and by their teens they were skiing in professional tournaments. Carlo specialized in downhill racing, Tommaso in the slalom. They were

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chosen for the Italian team for the '76 Winter Olympics but both failed a drugs test on the day before they were due to compete. The FIS banned them for life. They worked as stuntmen for a time before drifting into crime in their late twenties. They now work as freelance enforcers in Italy and Greece.'

'Have you ever come across them?' Kolchinsky asked.

'Not personally, but 1 know of them.'

'Do they have any sympathies with the Red Brigades?'

'Their sympathies lie with whoever's paying them, Miss Carver. And they don't come cheap. They can afford to name their price. They're probably the best freelance team in the Mediterranean.'

'It's pretty ironic, isn't it?' Sabrina said thoughtfully. 'Karos financed his own death.'

'It certainly looks that way,' Paluzzi replied.

'What about their present whereabouts?' Kolchinsky asked.

'Unknown. They're nomadic. They do have a summer villa at Frezene, a beach resort about twelve miles from here, but neither of them has been seen there in the last year. Naturally I'll have it staked out but I don't see us coming up with anything. We're dealing with professionals.'

'What about the helicopter?' Kolchinsky asked. 'Thati could be a clue in itself. A white Gazelle with mounted! 30 mm cannons. You don't see them every day.'

'I've already got a team working on that but I doub we'll come up with anything there either. They could ha\ hidden it anywhere.'

'It's hardly the easiest of things to conceal,' Kolchinsk said.

'I agree, but where do we start looking? Italy? Greecef

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Corfu? Sardinia? Sicily? The list's endless and we don't have the time.'

'Unless, of course, we manage to recover the vial tonight,' Kolchinsky said optimistically.

'Don't hold your breath,' Paluzzi replied. 'This operation's been planned down to the last detail. You can be sure that Ubrino won't venture out into the open unless he knows it's safe.'

'You think it's a trap?' Kolchinsky asked.

'I didn't initially when Karos told us about the meeting. He would have been with us and it would have been too dangerous to hit Mike and me without endangering his own life. It was only after his death that another possibility came to mind. What if the trap had been set for him? He knows too much, so Ubrino might have planned to draw him out into the open and have him killed. Except, when we linked him to the missing vial the plan was brought forward, to silence him before he could tell us anything.'