Authors: Alistair MacLean
2.01
They were both experienced skiers but, like the other field operatives, they still had to undergo rigorous outdoor training which included skiing, mountaineering and hang gliding at a secret camp in the backwoods of Maine.
Graham pulled open the door and winced as a gust of cold wind whipped through the cabin. After they had snapped on their skis Sabrina kept her eye on Paluzzi, waiting for his signal for them to deplane. Paluzzi continued to press down on the collective-pitch lever to lower the helicopter towards the ground then, when the pads were a couple of feet above the snow, he nodded his head vigorously, the signal to deplane. They launched themselves through the doorway and landed nimbly in the snow, bending their knees to cushion the impact of the fall. The helicopter immediately rose upwards and banked sharply to the left, soon to disappear over the treetops.
The man approaching them was in his late twenties with short blond hair and blue eyes. His goggles were pushed up on to his forehead. 'Mike? Sabrina?' he called out.
'Yeah,' Graham replied and shook the man's outstretched hand.
'Lieutenant Jurgen Stressner,' he said, shaking Sabrina's hand.
'Where's your partner?' Graham asked.
'He's watching the chalet,' Stressner replied, pointing behind him. 'Our orders are to assist you in any way possible. Do you have a plan in mind?'
'Not yet,' Graham replied. 'We'll need to see the chalet first.'
'Of course,' Stressner said, pulling the goggles back over his eyes. 'Follow me.'
Stressner led them down the slope and into a narrow gulley which emerged out on to another slope. Ten yards
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ahead of them was a dense forest of pine trees. He cut a swath through the trees and came to a sudden halt two hundred yards further on. He pointed to where his partner was crouched behind a rock twenty yards away, a pair of binoculars in his hand.
'Sergeant Marcel Lacombe. He knows this part of the country better than any man I know.' ""Lacombe was a middle-aged man of military bearing, with silver-grey hair and a thick grey moustache. He greeted Graham and Sabrina with a nod. I 'Still no sign of him?' Stressner asked, taking the bin I oculars from Lacombe and giving them to Graham. I Lacombe shook his head.
Graham studied the lone chalet, fifty yards away from where they were crouched. 'It's totally exposed out there. He'll see us the moment we show our faces.'
'Can I make a suggestion?' Stressner said.
'Please do,' Graham replied, handing the binoculars to Sabrina.
'There are two doors. Front and back. I suggest we pair off and approach the doors separately. If he sees two of us coming towards the front of the chalet he's sure to try and make a break for it through the back door.'
'Assuming he doesn't open the vial first,' Graham muttered, his eyes flickering towards Sabrina.
'Vi-al?' Stressner said, frowning. 'What is that?'
'Haven't you been briefed?' Sabrina asked.
'All we know is his name and what he looks like.'
'We have to tell them about the vial,' Sabrina said to Graham. 'They can't be expected to go in there blind.'
Graham nodded in agreement and explained briefly about the contents of the vial.
'And you think he would open this vial if he saw us coming?' Stressner asked anxiously.
Z03
'It's possible,' Graham replied, tight-lipped. 'But I think he's more likely to try and make a break for it, especially if he only sees two of us approaching the chalet.'
Sabrina nodded. 'I'd go along with that. So if two of us lie in wait for him at the back of the chalet, out of sight, and he does try to sneak out we'll be able to grab him before he has a chance to open the vial.'
'In theory,' Graham said.
'We have no choice,' Stressner said.
'You've got a point there,' Graham replied. 'It's best if we stick with our original partners. I presume the two of you are armed?'
The question surprised Stressner. 'This is Switzerland, not the backstreets of America. We only use firearms in exceptional circumstances.'
'And this isn't an exceptional circumstance? Ubrino will be armed to the teeth in there, you can be sure of that. Here, take my Beretta.'
Stressner put a restraining hand on Graham's arm. 'I won't need it. Put yourself in Ubrino's position. He doesn't know we're unarmed. He's more likely to try and slip out of the back than engage in a firefight.'
'Or use the vial to effect an escape,' Sabrina said.
'In which case the two of you will be lying in wait for him,' Stressner said. 'You need the guns, not us.'
Graham trained the binoculars on the chalet again. Curtains drawn, overnight snow packed against the foot of the front door and the absence of any ski tracks in front of the chalet gave it an eerie, deserted appearance. He focused the binoculars on the chimney. A steady stream of smoke filtered up into the blue sky. He wondered if Ubrino had left the chalet since he got there on Monday. Why bother?
2.04
'How do we get round to the back of the chalet without being seen?' Sabrina asked.
Til let Marcel explain. He's the expert.'
'My English not good,' Lacombe said to her. 'I explain better in French. You speak French?'
She nodded, then listened attentively as he told her the best route for them to take to come up behind the chalet unnoticed.
'You have radios?' Stressner asked.
Graham tapped one of the pockets in his overall. 'Kuhlmann got them for us. He had them pre-set to your frequency.'
Stressner looked at his watch. 'It should take you ten minutes at the most to get yourselves into position. Call me when you're ready. Then we can move in.'
Graham nodded, then followed Sabrina back through the trees, into the gulley, and out to the slope where they had deplaned. They traversed the face of the slope, crossing it without losing any height, then skied down a couloir, a steep, narrow descent, and emerged on to a flat stretch of the mountain. She stopped and pointed to the sixty-foot ridge on their right. The chalet was directly behind it. They pulled the hoods over their heads to give them added concealment in the snow then made their way slowly up the ridge, crawling the last five feet to the top.
'Look, ski tracks leading from the door,' she whispered.
'Yeah,' he muttered, his eyes screwed up behind his sunglasses as he stared at the single upstairs window facing out on to the ridge. The curtains were drawn.
'Call Stressner, tell him we're in position.'
Graham inched his way backwards until he was out of sight of the chalet, then took the two-way radio from his pocket and called Stressner. He replaced the radio in his pocket when he had finished and gave Sabrina a thumbs2.05
up sign. 'They're going in. I'll move further down the ridge. If Ubrino does try to make a break for it I'll be in a better position to cut him off. You stay here . . .' He trailed off, hearing the sound of a helicopter in the distance. 'What the hell's Paluzzi playing at? I told him I'd radio if we needed assistance.'
'He must have picked up your conversation with Stressner and thought it was meant for him. Get him on the radio, tell him to pull out.'
Graham took the radio from his pocket again. 'Yankee to Leatherhead, come in. Over.'
There was a pause then the crackled reply: 'Leatherhead to Yankee, I read you. Over.'
'What the hell are you doing?' Graham hissed angrily. 'I haven't given the order to move in. Return to base and await further instructions. I repeat, return to base. Over.'
Another pause. 'Leatherhead to Yankee, message unclear. I am at base. Repeat, I am at base. Over.'
Graham was about to speak when the helicopter came into view. It was the white Gazelle Tommaso Francia had used on Corfu. Graham scrambled to the top of the ridge. He had to warn Stressner and Lacombe. They were already clear of the trees. Stressner swung round to face the helicopter as it dived towards them. Tommaso Francia opened fire. Both men were hit by a hail of bullets and the helicopter immediately banked sharply, skimming over the chalet and passing within ten feet of the ridge where Graham and Sabrina lay motionless in the snow.
'Leatherhead to Yankee, I heard gunfire. Are you all right? Do you need assistance? Over.'
Sabrina picked, the radio out of the snow. 'Sister to Leatherhead, we've come under fire from the Francias' helicopter. Stressner and Lacombe have been hit. Need assistance. Repeat, need assistance. Over.'
2.06
f 'Message understood. Am on my way. Over and '?. out.'
Ł Graham was the first on to his feet. 'We've got to (-' take cover before it comes back. The chalet's our only | chance.'
I They approached the chalet cautiously and took up I positions on either side of the back door. They took the t Berettas from their pockets and Graham indicated for | Sabrina to go around the side of the chalet. She nodded I then moved apprehensively towards the end of the wall, I the Beretta held barrel upwards inches away from her face. Once there she paused to wipe the sweat from her I forehead. She glanced over her shoulder but Graham had if already disappeared around the other side of the chalet. r She swivelled round, Beretta held at arm's length. Nothing. I She could see Stressner's body from where she stood. He I lay on his back, his white overall saturated with blood. ' Then she heard the sound of the helicopter's engine behind ' her. She turned to see the Gazelle rise into view from behind the ridge. She flung herself into the snow a split i, second before a row of bullets peppered the side of the chalet where she had been standing. The helicopter swivelled fractionally as if on an invisible axis until the 30 mm cannons were aimed at her. She tried desperately to get to her feet. She knew she wouldn't make it before the guns opened fire.
The Westland Scout seemed to appear from nowhere. It shot across the front of the Gazelle and Tommaso Francia recoiled in horror, unconsciously jerking his hands off the controls. The Gazelle bucked sharply and went out of control. It plummeted towards the chalet. He managed to regain control of it at the last moment and it missed the roof by a matter of inches. One of the pads struck the chimney and Sabrina had to scramble out of the way as
2.07
bricks and mortar rained down into the snow. The Gazelle levelled out and disappeared over the pine trees in pursuit of the Westland Scout.
'You okay?' Graham asked behind her.
She nodded, then removed her sunglasses and wiped her sleeve across her forehead. 'Now's our chance to get Ubrino, with the helicopter out of the way.'
'You take the back, I'll take the front.' He moved round to the front of the chalet and ducked as he passed a window, even though earlier the curtains had been drawn, only straightening up again when he was clear of it. He undipped his skis then pressed himself against the wall and reached out slowly for the door handle. His gloved fingers curled around it and he pushed it down. The door was unlocked. He opened the door and took up a firing stance, Beretta extended, legs bent and apart. He found himself looking down a dimly lit hallway. He stepped inside and his eyes instinctively moved towards the wooden stairs to his right. Was Ubrino at the top, waiting to pick him off the moment he tried to climb them? Or was he hiding in one of the rooms leading off from the hall?
He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and spun round to face the open door, the Beretta held at arm's length. Nothing moved. A sprinkling of snow landed in front of the door. That was what he had seen. More snow fell to the ground. It couldn't be thawing, the chalet was enveloped in shade. That meant something else was dislodging the snow. Or someone else. Ubrino. He waded out into knee-deep snow and as he looked up at the sloping roof Ubrino propelled himself away from the open skylight window. Graham raised his Beretta to fire. Ubrino launched himself off the edge of the roof and caught Graham's wrist with the edge of his ski, knocking the
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gun from his hand. He landed awkwardly and skidded |v sideways into the snow. He managed to get to his feet before Graham felled him with a bruising football tackle. Ubrino lashed out with his ski pole, catching Graham painfully on the shoulder. He lashed out again with the ski pole, this time hitting Graham in the face. The basket at the end of the pole ripped open the stitches in the side - of Graham's face, spurting blood across the snow. Graham | cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, his hand covering the wound as blood streamed down the side of his face. Ubrino scrambled to his feet and set off down the slope.
Sabrina emerged from the chalet and got off three shots at the retreating figure before he disappeared around the shoulder of the mountain. She dug her ski poles into the snow and launched herself after him.
Graham returned to the chalet, where he found a clean towel and pressed it tightly against the wound in an attempt to try and stem the flow of blood. He was about to run some water in the washbasin when he heard the sound of a helicopter engine stuttering in the distance. He went to the front door and looked up into the sky. The Westland Scout was approaching the chalet low over the pine trees, black smoke billowing out from the single turboshaft engine mounted behind the cabin. It managed to avoid the trees and crash-landed thirty yards away from the chalet. The fuel tank was ruptured and a fire started in the tail section. Paluzzi threw open the cockpit door and stumbled towards the chalet. He was only yards away from it when the helicopter exploded, burling chunks of naming debris hundreds of feet into the air. He was flattened by the force of the explosion. Graham hurried out to where he lay, helped him to his feet, and led him back to the chalet.
2.09
'You okay?' Graham asked anxiously once they were inside the door.
'I'm okay,' Paluzzi replied with a weak smile. 'What happened to you?'
Graham told him about Ubrino.
'I'll go after Sabrina,' Paluzzi said. 'She'll need backup. I'll take your skis.'
'She's got a radio. She'll call us if she needs backup.' Graham looked at the twisted remains of the helicopter burning fiercely in the snow. 'What happened to you?'
'I gave Francia a good run for his money but he finally got a direct hit on my engine. I had to limp back here, it's all I could do.'
'Why didn't he follow you in?'
'My guess is he heard my distress call. He peeled off as soon as I started smoking. Kuhlmann's sending a couple of police helicopters but you can be sure that Francia will be long gone by the time they get here.'
'When do you expect them?'
'They should be here in about ten minutes.'
Graham expressed his approval then disappeared back into the bathroom to wash the blood from his face. Paluzzi walked to the front door and stared at the bodies of Stressner and Lacombe lying in the snow. Then he looked down the slope, his thoughts with Sabrina.
Sabrina was gaining rapidly on Ubrino. Then the Gazelle appeared behind them. Tommaso Francia couldn't risk shooting at her in case one of the bullets hit Ubrino.
She looked over her shoulder at the helicopter and saw Carlo Francia standing in the open cabin doorway. He was dressed in skiing gear. Moments later he propelled himself through the doorway, landing with bended knees
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3@iť the slope twenty yards behind her. The helicopter flew fewst her and Tommaso Francia threw a rope ladder to I? ybrino through the passenger door. Carlo Francia un shouldered his Uzi and fired a burst into the snow behind Sabrina. She veered to the left, giving Ubrino a few valuable seconds to grab hold of the ladder which dangled
v enticingly in front of him. He discarded one of the ski poles and reached out for the ladder. His fingers found one of the rungs and he clamped his hand around it. Then, discarding his other ski pole, he grabbed the ladder with his other hand. He felt himself being lifted off the slope. Tommaso Francia activated a button on his control panel / and the rope ladder began to reel in automatically. The helicopter banked sharply, denying Sabrina a shot at Ubrino. Within seconds it had disappeared from view.
She looked behind her. Carlo Francia was still there, the Uzi in his right hand. He acknowledged her with a faint smile and a slight inclination of his head, just as he had done in Venice. He squeezed the trigger. She curved sharply to avoid the bullets and entered a dense thicket of larch trees. Francia double-angled, forming an inverted 'L' in the snow to change direction, and followed her into
^the wood. He fired again but the bullets chewed harmlessly into the trees on either side of her. The wood ended abruptly and she found herself beginning a steep, curving descent. She looked behind her. No sign of Francia. She carved the first bend and stopped sharply, coming to a halt out of sight of the trees. It was her only chance. She had to get behind him. But what if he approached the bend firing? She crouched down, the Beretta clenched tightly in her gloved hand.
Francia took the bend wide and only saw her as he shot down the slope. His eyes widened in amazement. How had she stopped so quickly? A bullet cracked inches
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from his head. Suddenly the hunter had become the hunted. He fired wildly behind him but the bullets went well wide of the mark. He cursed himself for panicking. Then he saw his chance: a ridge directly in front of him. He tucked his body down to increase his speed and as he hit the ridge he pirouetted in mid-air, just one of the freestyle manoeuvres which had brought him such acclaim as a professional skier, and fired at Sabrina on the turn. A bullet ripped through her sleeve, grazing her arm, and she had to call on all her expertise to keep herself from overbalancing and tumbling into the snow.
Francia executed the perfect landing, then looked behind him, the Uzi at the ready for the first sight of Sabrina riding the crest of the ridge. She still hadn't appeared by the time he reached the next bend. Now he could lie in wait for her further down the slope. It would be impossible for him to miss her as she took the bend. He smiled to himself as he leaned into the bend. His smile faltered when he saw the precipice fifteen yards in front of him. He tried to stop but lost control and tumbled down the slope. He came to rest within a few feet of the edge and the Uzi disappeared over it. He raised his head fractionally and looked down into the canyon below him. A sheer drop of eight hundred feet. He reached down to unclip his skis. The sudden movement dislodged a piece of ice behind him. It confirmed his worse fears. He was lying on a cornice, a sheet of ice overhanging the precipice. Any movement could cause it to break off. He swallowed nervously and blinked rapidly as the sweat dripped into his eyes. All he could do was wait for help. But for how long?
Sabrina descended the ridge cautiously, the Beretta held tightly in her hand. Her arm was throbbing. She could feel the blood oozing down the inside of her sleeve and
2.12.
|Jtito her glove. Her progress was slow and she paused sjsefpre reaching the bend in the slope. What if Francia was
jg in wait for her around the corner, as she had done to him earlier? An Uzi against a Beretta. She didn't fancy the odds. She wiped the sweat from her face and inadvertently smeared blood across her cheek. She decided to. take the pounds end as wide as she possibly could. At least that way she e would be able to see Francia if he had concealed himself on the other side of the bend. She dug her ski poles into die snow and propelled herself forward. She saw the precipice as she took the corner and came to a halt ten feet away from where he lay. For a moment she thought it was a trap. Then she saw the fear in his eyes.
'Help me, please,' he pleaded in English, his eyes riveted on her.
She moved closer, the Beretta still trained on him.
'You help me, I tell you what you want to know,' he said in a breathless voice. 'Please, you must help me.'
'I'm going to extend my ski pole towards you. Grab hold of the basket. Do you understand?'
He nodded.
She lay flat on the hard surface snow and reached out the ski pole towards him. It didn't reach his hand. She inched her way forward, knowing she could also be on the cornice. And it could collapse at any moment. It was impossible to know where the mountain ended and the cornice began. There was a sudden crack and another sheet of ice broke off behind him. He gritted his teeth, not daring to look over his shoulder. He was now barely three feet away from the edge of the precipice. She was at full stretch, not daring to move any closer. The pole was within his reach. His fingers touched the tip and he managed to grab hold of it. She gripped the other end of the pole with both hands, steadying herself. Cracks began to appear in
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the ice around him and as his fingers curled around the basket a section of ice broke underneath him. He slid backwards, his legs now dangling over the edge of the precipice. She dug her skis into the snow, desperately trying to anchor herself, but she felt herself being dragged towards the precipice as Francia continued to slide further over the edge. In desperation he grabbed the basket with both hands but this only served to pull her even closer to the edge. She knew she couldn't save him and unless she let go of the ski pole she would be dragged over the edge with him. She began to ease the strap off from around her wrist.
'No, please,' he screamed, desperately trying to get a better grip on the basket.
She tugged at the strap until it slid off her hand. For a brief moment he clawed frantically at the ice, then he fell, the wind tearing the scream from his lips. She moved back slowly until she felt she had put enough distance between herself and the edge of the precipice, then got to her feet and wiped her sleeve across her glistening face. What if she had tried to outrun him instead of ducking down behind the slope when she did? What chance would she have had to stop at that speed? She would have been the one who went over the precipice. She shuddered. It had been that close.
She sat down in the snow and leaned back against a large tree. Then, taking the two-way radio from her pocket, she called Graham to arrange for a helicopter to pick her up. She had had enough skiing for one day.
ZI4
I NINE
'Are you all right?' Kolchinsky asked anxiously when Sabrina entered his hotel room.
'It's just a graze,' she replied, touching his arm reassuringly.
'Where's Michael?'
'He's coming,' she said, gesturing vaguely to the door behind her.
'How is he?'
'Pm okay,' Graham answered from the doorway.
Kolchinsky winced when he looked round at Graham. His left eye was now half-closed and the white dressing secured over his new stitches contrasted vividly with the discoloured bruising on the left-hand side of his face.
'It's not as bad as it looks,' Graham muttered, closing the door behind him.
'You could have fooled me.' Kolchinsky smiled grimly.
'Has Fabio briefed you on what happened this afternoon?' Sabrina asked, pouring out two cups of coffee from the pot on the tray.
'He's told me everything,' Kolchinsky replied. 'I was hoping we could all have a meeting as soon as the two of you got back from the hospital. That won't be possible now. At least not for the time being.'
'Why, what's happened?' Sabrina asked, handing a coffee to Graham.
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'Commissioner Kuhlmann received a call half an hour ago to say that the Francias' Gazelle 'helicopter had been found abandoned in a field on the outskirts of Worb. It's a town about ten miles from here. He's driven out there with Fabio to take a closer look at it.'
'No sign of Ubrino or Tommaso Francia?'
'None at all.'
'Has Carlo Francia's body been found?' Sabrina asked, sitting on the bed.
'What was left of it,' Kolchinsky replied.
'Was anything found at the chalet?' Graham asked.
'The police report hasn't come through yet but you can be sure we'd have been told if they had come up with anything positive.' Kolchinsky shook his head. 'No, we won't have any luck there.'
'That was to be expected really,' Sabrina said with a resigned shrug. 'Ubrino was hardly going to flee the nest without taking the golden egg with him, was he?'
'Which puts us back to square one again,'1 Graham said. 'And we've got less than fifteen hours to go before tomorrow's deadline. Not that that means anything. We haven't got a hope in hell of finding him now.'
'Leaving the Offenbach Centre as our last line of defence,' Sabrina added, looking at Kolchinsky. 'What extra security measures are being taken there tomorrow?'
'Commissioner Kuhlmann has drafted in seventy policemen and thirty policewomen from around the country. They'll all be in plainclothes.'
'Why plainclothes?' Graham said. 'Surely an extra hundred uniforms would be more daunting to someone like Ubrino?'
'And frighten him off?' Kolchinsky replied. 'Remember, he doesn't know that we know the vial is destined for the Offenbach Centre. If the grounds were swamped with
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irmed guards he might turn back and make his rids from a hideout anywhere in the country. Then would we be? No, we have to play this as covertly possible. He's sure to have a rough idea of how many rity staff are employed by the Offenbach Centre. It's Imperative that he isn't suspicious when he gets there. As jiyou said, we won't find him now. Tomorrow's our last jiiiance.'
Graham finished his coffee and got to his feet. 'Are we Still going to have this meeting tonight?' -.; 'That all depends on when the two of them get back. Why, is there something on your mind?'
'I've got a few questions to put to Calvieri. I can do it now, or later.'
'Fabio told me about your little theory linking Calvieri to Ubrino. It doesn't hold any water, Michael. You're letting your emotions get the better of you.'
'The fact remains that someone tipped off either Ubrino $.- or the Francia brothers about our movements this after R noon. Who knew we were going to the chalet? You, me, Sabrina, Fabio, Kuhlmann and Calvieri. Who would you suspect?'
'Calvieri never left this room from the time we had our briefing until the time Kuhlmann received Fabio's call requesting back-up. When could Calvieri have warned them? I'm the first to take notice of your hunches, Michael, but this time you're way off the mark.'
'Someone tipped them off, Sergei. There are two bodies in the mortuary to prove it.' Graham glanced at Sabrina. 'And it could so easily have been three.'
'We don't know that they were tipped off, Michael. It's pure speculation.'
'I still want to talk to Calvieri,' Graham said. 'There's enough tension as it is without you adding to