Authors: Alistair MacLean
She dug her hands into her pockets and chewed her lip thoughtfully. 'No, I don't think so.' She suddenly nodded her head. 'Wait a minute, isn't he that terrorist who's just taken over as the new leader of the Red Brigades? We ran a short item on him a couple of days ago. What has he got to do with me?'
'You tell us, Miss Rietler,' Paluzzi said.
'Tell you what?' she snapped.
'Why your phone number appears in his address book hidden in his apartment in Milan.'
'This is too much -- '
'Where is the vial he gave you to hide?' Paluzzi cut in sharply.
'I've had enough of this badgering. I'm calling the hotel security.' She disappeared into the bedroom and snatched up the receiver.
'I'd put that phone down, Miss Rietler,' Paluzzi said from the doorway. 'Or should I call you Miss Dannhauser?'
Her body stiffened and her fingers tightened around the handset. The act was over. She replaced the receiver and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the carpet.
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Paluzzi picked up a framed photograph from the bedside table and his eyes narrowed in sudden comprehension.
'What is it?' Whitlock asked, looking at the freckle faced boy in the photograph.
'He's the spitting image of his father. And I thought I -knew everything about Calvieri.'
'That's Calvieri's son?' Whitlock said in astonishment.
'He couldn't look more like his father if he tried,' Paluzzi said, then looked down at Ute Rietler. 'He gave you the vial, didn't he?'
'I don't know what you're talking about,' she replied, but there was no conviction in her voice.
'Ute, you've got to help us,' Paluzzi said softly.
'I can't.'
'Why?' Paluzzi asked.
'He said he'd expose my past unless I did what he wanted.'
'You're not making any sense, Ute,' Paluzzi said. 'Your past has already been exposed. We know about it. You must cooperate with us, it's your only chance.'
'I can't,' she repeated.
'And what's going to happen to your son when you're jailed for life for conspiring with a terrorist? He'll be taken into care. I doubt you'll ever see him again. Is that what you want?'
There was a long silence. Ute Rietler was struggling with her inner emotions. When she finally spoke, it was in a barely audible voice. 'It's taped underneath the chassis of our outside broadcast van. It's parked near the main gate.'
Whitlock bolted into the adjoining room to call Philpott.
'I don't know what's in it, you must believe me,' she pleaded. Tony said it would be picked up by a member
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of another terrorist group some time today. That's all he told me.'
'When did you meet Tony?'
'Rome, eight years ago. I went there to stay with some friends after my parents were killed in a car crash outside Bonn. I met him at a Red Brigades rally. We fell in love at first sight. At least that's what I thought at the time. I found out later that I was just another in a long line of girlfriends. We'd only been seeing each other for a couple of months when I discovered I was pregnant. That's when I came to my senses. I wanted my child to have a proper family, not be surrounded by anarchists and killers. Tony was very understanding but he refused to leave the Red Brigades. He said his place was with them. I decided i hen I wanted to start a new life so that Bruno would n^ver have to know about his father. Tony helped me fake my own death, a boating accident in the Adriatic. I was listed as missing, presumed dead. He got me a new passport in the name of Ute Rietler and I decided to start afresh here in Switzerland. I cut my hair, dyed it and took to wearing contact lenses instead of glasses. I got a job with ZRF, and the rest I'm sure you know.
'I never saw or heard from him again until he called me last week, asking for my help. I told him I didn't want anything more to do with the Red Brigades but he threatened to splash my past across every tabloid in Europe if I didn't agree to help him. What choice did I have? I went to his hotel last night and picked up a package from the reception desk. His instructions were with the metal cylinder. I never knew what was in it. . .' Her voice faded to nothing and she wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. 'You're going to take Bruno into care, aren't you?'
'No,' Paluzzi replied, and paused in the doorway to
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look back at her. 'I promise I'll do everything I can to keep your name out of this.'
She smiled weakly, then put her hands over her face and began to cry softly to herself.
In the other room Whitlock was standing by the -window, staring absently at the traffic in the street below.
'Ready?' Paluzzi asked.
'Sure.' Whitlock crossed to where Paluzzi was waiting for him at the door. 'What happened in there?'
Til tell you about it in the car,' Paluzzi said, opening the door.
Whitlock stepped out into the corridor and instinctively glanced at his watch: 4.46 p.m.
Philpott sent Graham and Marco to get the vial. Vlok had arranged for a maintenance van to be parked at the back of the building for their use. Marco got behind the wheel and started the engine. Graham climbed in beside him. Marco slipped the van into gear and drove to where the dozens of media pantechnicons were parked. He cruised the road leading to the boomgate as they scanned the pantechnicons for the one belonging to ZRF. He braked in front of the boomgate - there was no sign of the one they were seeking. A guard approached the driver's window and Marco asked him whether he knew where the ZRF vehicle was parked. The guard consulted the clipboard in his hand. He flicked through the sheets of paper, then leaned his arm on the open window and showed Marco its position on a plan he had made of the media vehicles the previous night. It was parked on the grass behind the row of vehicles nearest the road. Marco thanked him, did a U-turn, and drove back ten yards
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before finding a space between two giant pantechnicons big enough to drive through. He braked immediately. The grass was seething with cables. They would have to continue on foot.
Graham jumped out and picked his way through the cables to a white vehicle with the letters ZRF painted in black on either side. Marco went after him and after looking around quickly he slid underneath the pantechnicon where Graham was already feeling around the edges of the chassis for the metal cylinder. Ute Rietler was hardly likely to have crawled right underneath and taped the vial to the centre of the vehicle's underbelly.
They heard voices and tucked their legs out of sight seconds before a couple of engineers approached the back of the pantechnicon and climbed inside, closing the door behind them. Graham indicated for Marco to start at the front and work his way back. He would start from the back. Marco nodded and leopard crawled to the front of the pantechnicon. Graham reached the back section then removed a small torch from his pocket and switched it on. He played the beam across the chassis, concentrating on the edges. The door opened again. He switched off the torch. A man came out and paused at the foot of the steps, inches away from where Graham lay motionless on the! grass. He shouted something in German and a moments later a packet of cigarettes was thrown to him. The man;j didn't catch it and the packet landed on the middle step.5 For a horrifying moment Graham thought it was going to^ topple off the step and land next to him. It came to rest] on the edge of the step. A hand appeared and picked it j up. The man walked away from the pantechnicon, andlj Graham exhaled deeply. As he switched the torch or again, a hand touched his l
eg.
He looked round sharply,! cracking the back of his head painfully on the exhausij
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pipe. Marco held up a hand apologetically then patted the
breast pocket of his maintenance overall. 'You got it?' Graham whispered. Marco nodded. 'It was taped under the mudguard.' Graham wriggled his way out and rubbed the back of
-his head gingerly. A man suddenly emerged from the back of the pantechnicon beside the ZRF one. He paused on the bottom step and eyed them suspiciously.
- Marco got to his feet, brushed the grass from his overall and shook his head sadly at the man. 'You wouldn't believe the amount of rust under there. It's not fit to be on the road. I'd check under your van if I were tyou.' ,The man watched them get back into the maintenance van, then shrugged and walked away. Marco started up j the engine and reversed out fast into the road.
'We've got nine minutes left to get the cylinder to the
- helicopter,' Graham said. 'Forget about the back entrance, |.we'll never make it. Drive to the main entrance, it's our |only chance.'
'We'll never get through without setting off the metal ^detector,' Marco replied. 'We've got to do it.'
Marco sped round the perimeter of the car-park and jlled up in front of the main doors. 'Run like hell,' Graham told him. 'And use the stairs, bey could shut down the lifts before you reach the helipad.'
'What are you going to do?'
'Someone's got to cover your back. Whatever happens me, don't turn back. Just keep running.' Marco nodded. Graham patted him on the shoulder Mid they leapt out of the van. The doors parted electron illy in front of them. Marco entered first. The metal
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detector buzzed. He broke into a run when a guard approached him. The guard shouted at him to stop. Graham shoulder-charged the guard as he reached for his holstered pistol. The pistol spun from his hand. A second guard was instantly on the scene. Graham tackled him, knocking him to the floor. He retrieved both pistols and sprinted after Marco. The two guards radioed for back-up. There wasn't much else they could do. Graham reached the stairs before any of the guards could get to him. Fortunately they hadn't dared to shoot because the foyer was packed. He only paused for breath when he reached the fifth floor. There was still no sign of the guards. It surprised him. He took a deep breath, then bounded up the stairs, two at a time, until he reached the tenth floor landing. Still no guards. What was going on? Were they waiting for him on the helipad? How would they know where he was headed? He pressed himself against the wall and pushed open the door leading out on to the helipad. No gunfire.
'Michael?' a voice called out from the helipad.
Graham recognized Kolchinsky's voice. He was also the only person he knew who called him Michael.
'Michael, is that you?' Kolchinsky called out again.
Graham wiped the sweat from his forehead and stepped out on to the helipad. Vlok stood beside Kolchinsky and Marco, a two-way radio in his hand.
'We thought you two might use the main entrance to save time,' Kolchinsky said. 'So when we heard that two maintenance workers were headed for the stairs we put two and two together and Dieter gave instructions to the guards to give you free passage to the helipad.'
'You sure know how to spoil a guy's fun, Sergei,' Graham said with a half-smile.
Kolchinsky checked his watch. 'You did it with four
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minutes to spare. You could have taken the lift after all. It would have been far less strenuous.'
Graham smiled as Kolchinsky crossed to the telephone to break the news to Philpott.
'Wouldn't you like to join us?' Calvieri said to Sabrina and indicated the third chair in front of the television set.
'The air's a lot cleaner where I am,' Sabrina retorted sharply.
'Humour, even in defeat. I admire you for that.' Calvieri sat down and rubbed his hands together. 'I've been waiting for this moment ever since the PCI came to power two years ago. The public humiliation of Enzo Bellini.'
'It's five o'clock,' Ubrino said, glancing at his watch. 'He should be arriving any moment now.'
Calvieri nodded. 'All that's missing is a cigarette. I would die for one.'
The too,' Ubrino muttered, and helped himself to another peppermint from the packet he had taken from the drawer.
They watched the screen as the Swiss President emerged through a side door and crossed to a table where he sat down and surveyed the dozens of journalists seated in front of him. Cameras flashed incessantly. A journalist shouted out a question' but the Swiss President immediately raised a hand for silence.
'Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight,' the President said in English. 'I called this press conference to deal with the rumours that the Italian Prime Minister, Signore Enzo Bellini, is to step down through ill-health. It is true that he was taken ill this morning, which is when the rumours began, but I am glad to report that it is nothing more serious than influenza. I have just
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seen Signore Bellini and he has asked me to assure yc that he will not be standing down, either today or at anji time in the foreseeable future .. .'
'What are you talking about?' Calvieri shouted at screen. He rubbed the back of his hand nervously ac his mouth. 'It's part of the deal. Bellini must resign.'
The telephone rang.
Calvieri knocked over his chair in his haste to answer it
'I thought you'd like to see the start of the press confer! ence before I called you,' Philpott said.
'What are you playing at, Philpott?' Calvieri snarle his breathing ragged. 'I told you what would happen either of my demands weren't met. You've just made very big mistake -- '
'We've found the vial.'
Calvieri's eyes narrowed with uncertainty. 'Where?'
'In the workshop.'
Calvieri burst out laughing, such was his relief.
'But we expected a red herring,' Philpott continued-! That's why we carried on with the search even after it had been found. Miss Rietler was very helpful when came to finding the real vial. Or should I call her Mis Dannhauser? After all, that was the name in the addre book we found under the floorboards in your flat.'
Calvieri's face went pale. He fumbled for a chair andf sat down slowly.
The lab results came through fifteen minutes ago,' Phil-1 pott said, knowing he had to call Calvieri's bluff. It was tool late to turn back, even if he was wrong. And God help him| if he were. 'Our scientists have identified the compound i the virus. They didn't attempt to defuse the magnetic charge 1 on the side of the metal cylinder, just in case you'd boobyŤ| trapped it. The vial's been removed from the cylinder further tests. It's quite harmless now.'