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Authors: Alistair MacLean

Red Alert (22 page)

BOOK: Red Alert
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2.17

n. i^cavc nun aiunc. Ana tnars my tinal word on the subject.' !l Graham threw up his hands in frustration and sat on

trie edee ottlxe.lieŤL^TkgL.*Ťles^esŤ_.^!s^te. ' Ko)chins)cy answered Jt.

S&S&, it's C-W-' Whitlnek said at rhe nth&t end

tie

me.

'C.W.?' Kolchinsky replied in surprise. 'How did you know we were here?'

'Jacques told me. I can't talk for long. Young and I are here in Berne.'

'I know.'

'You know?' It was Whitlock's turn to be surprised.

'I had a photograph of you sent out from New York. You were recognized by one of the staff at the airport. Where are you staying?'

'That doesn't matter at the moment. Young's setting up a hit on Calvieri.'

'When?'

'Now. This is the first chance I've had to call you since we got here. Young picked up a case from a locker at the airport. It has to be a high-powered rifle.'

'Where are you calling from?'

'A callbox opposite your hotel. Young went into the building behind me a couple of minutes ago. It's my guess he'll lure Calvieri out to the front of the hotel. What do you want me to do?'

'Stop him. It's gone far enough. Are you armed?'

'I wish I was. I had to leave the Browning behind when we fled the boarding house in Rome.'

'Do you want backup?'

'No back-up, thanks. If Young suspects for one moment that I've double-crossed him he'll use the transmitter to detonate the watch. I'll get him myself.'

zi8

EfHow?'

let me worry about that. Keep an eye on Calvieri

LŤme, Try and he;? him in rk bold J'JJ caJJ jou

tan fact stettnt s*h it.* \5f7nitlŤŁU$ osiisi ansJ ťim:

n

pKolchinsky recounted the conversation to Graham and rina. He thought for a moment, then said, 'Sabrina, I it you to go down to the foyer. If Calvieri does show rface I want you to keep him occupied until I give you all-clear sign.'

'How am I supposed to keep him occupied?' 'I'm sure you'll think of something,' Kolchinsky said,

ling the door. 'Now go on, you're wasting time.' 'I still say C.W. needs back-up,' Graham said, after , Kolchinsky had closed the door. 'No backup.' 'He's unarmed --'

'Michael!' Kolchinsky snapped. 'I'm as worried about him as you are but he specifically said no back-up. All we can do is wait for his call.'

'All we can do is hope for his call,' Graham muttered, I then crossed to the tray to pour himself another cup of i coffee.

Whitlock emerged from the callbox and looked up at the building behind him. Three floors. Several of the third-floor windows were illuminated. The rest of the building was in darkness. Young wouldn't risk using the third floor. And the first floor was also out. He wouldn't get the right angle on his shot from there. Which left the second floor. Whitlock glanced at his watch. Young already had a five-minute headstart. Whitlock

zi9

walked towards the alley at the side of the building. He suddenly froze mid-step and the woman behind him stumbled against his arm. He muttered an apology without taking his eyes off the man in the fawn trenchcoat who was standing at the entrance to the alley. He held a black doctor's bag in his gloved hand. It was the same man Whitlock had seen at the boarding house in Rome. Escoletti looked about him casually, then disappeared into the alley. Whitlock continued to stare at the spot where Escoletti had been standing. How had he found them so quickly? What if he managed to overpower Young and take him away for questioning? What about the transmitter?

Whitlock moved cautiously towards the alley, intent on following Escoletti at a distance.

As Whitlock had predicted, Young had chosen the second floor for the hit. Getting into the building had been easy. The door leading into the alley was unlocked. Once inside he had discovered that the building was some kind of youth centre. According to the bulletin board, the first floor housed an arts and crafts workshop, the second floor a martial arts club and the third floor a discotheque. And only the discotheque was open that evening. The noise would provide the perfect cover for the hit. Nobody in the building would hear the gunshot.

He had passed a couple of teenagers on the stairs between the first and second floors but neither of them had given him a second glance as they made their way to the exit. The double doors were padlocked on the second floor. It took him a few seconds to pick the lock, then he eased one of the doors open and went inside. The street light shone dimly through the Venetian blinds. He could

220

see the padded mats laid out neatly across the wooden floorboards. Then he noticed the two glass cabinets against the wall. He whistled softly to himself as he stared at their contents. One of the cabinets contained a pair of sheathed tachi, the Japanese sword traditionally worn suspended from the belt. The second cabinet contained ninja weaponry, kama, the sickle used for cutting corn, which doubles as a lethal weapon; kusari-gama, a sickle attached to a lead ball with a chain; nunchaku, the corn-beater, consisting of two short lengths of wood joined by a chain; sat, an iron dagger protected by two lateral hooks which is used to check, or deflect, the tachi; shuriken, the small, iron projectile with sharp, serrated edges; and the tonfa, a twenty-inch oak rod with a cylindrical handle fixed three-quarters of the way along its stem.

Young stared, fascinated, at the assortment of weaponry until a loud hornblast from a taxi in the street below brought him sharply back to his senses. He crossed to the Venetian blinds where he opened his slim, black case and carefully removed the sections of the specially designed detachable Mauser SP66 sniper rifle which he had asked Wiseman to get for him. He screwed on the Zeiss 1.5--6 X 42 zoom telescopic lens then reached through the Venetian blinds and opened the window. He had a perfect view of the main entrance to the Metropole Hotel. He took a cordless phone from the case and rang the hotel. It was answered by one of the switchboard operators and he asked for Calvieri's room.

'Pronto, Tony Calvieri.'

'You want to know who killed Pisani, don't you?' ; 'Who is this?'

'I'll meet you outside the hotel in two minutes. If you're not there, I'll assume you're not interested and leave. Two I 'minutes.'

2.2.1

'How will I recognize you?' |

Til recognize you.'

Young disconnected the line and replaced the phone in the case. He picked up the sniper rifle and leaned the barrel lightly on the window frame. He adjusted the sights until he had a perfect image of the doorman's head in the crosshairs. Then, curling his finger around the trigger, he squeezed it gently. Click. He selected a 7.62. mm semi jacketed soft point bullet from the case and fed it into the breech. Like any good sniper, he only needed one bullet. He rested the rifle on the window frame again and waited for Calvieri to appear.

A smile touched the corners of his mouth when, a minute later, the electronic doors parted and Calvieri emerged into the street. He tightened his grip on the rifle then lined up Calvieri's forehead in the crosshairs. His finger rested lightly on the trigger but he held back from firing when Calvieri suddenly swung round towards the doors behind him. He looked to see who had distracted Calvieri's attention. It couldn't be. It was a woman, dressed differently, but closely resembling the prostitute he had seen in Whitlock's room in Rome. His mind raced. Who was she? Was she a Brigatista? Why was she in Berne? What was her relationship with Calvieri? More to the point, what was her relationship with Alexander? Was Alexander working with Calvieri? Had Alexander compromised the assignment? Alexander had a lot of explaining to do. Then Young would kill him. He couldn't afford to take any chances. But he had some unfinished business to attend to first. He lined up Calvieri's forehead in the sights again. He slowly tightened his finger on the trigger.

The room was suddenly flooded with light.

'Drop the gun,' Escoletti ordered from the doorway.

ZZ2.

Young used the reflections in the window to watch the behind him. He had two options. Try and shoot on the turn. Or throw down the rifle and take his |chances from there. It was obvious that the gunman wanted alive, otherwise he would already have put a bullet |in his back. He laid the rifle down carefully in front of Ikim then turned round slowly to face his assailant. He f looked from the Bernadelli in Escoletti's hand to the black bag on the floor beside him. It had to be the man Alexander had seen at the boarding house. A sudden thought crossed his mind. What if Alexander was working in league with him?

'Who are you?' Young asked. 'Red Brigades?' 'That's right,' Escoletti replied. 'You should have quit while you were ahead. But, like so many before you, you underestimated the Red Brigades. We're not the disjointed, ramshackle organization our Government would have the world believe. How do you think we were able to track you down to that boarding house in Rome? How do you think I was able to trace you here so quickly?' 'So what happens now?'

'You will be taken back to Italy and tried by a people's court.'

'And submitted to your proletarian justice, no doubt?' Young said with a sneer. 'You sound just like the Vietcong I was fighting eighteen years ago. Unenlightened, uneducated red scum.'

'Who brought your country to its knees,' Escoletti said with evident satisfaction. 'The people triumphed over the fascisti, one of the greatest victories in socialist history.' Whitlock appeared in the doorway behind Escoletti, a 5-inch length of lead piping in his hand. He pressed it into Escoletti's back and told him to drop the gun. Escoletti stiffened but made no move to drop the Bernadelli.

2.2.3

I'

11! Whitlock's heart was racing. If Escoletti called his bluff and turned on him he would be dead. It was as simple as that. Escoletti finally let the Bernadelli fall to the floor. Young picked it up before Whitlock had a chance to get to it. Escoletti looked round at Whitlock, his eyes lingering on the lead piping in his hand. His face remained expressionless.

Til spare you the kangaroo court,' Young said to Escoletti, and shot him through the head.

'You didn't have to kill him!' Whitlock exclaimed, staring at the body sprawled at his feet.

'That's right,' Young replied. 'Close the door.'

Whitlock closed the door behind him and when he turned back to Young he found the Bernadelli trained on him.

'I never did trust you,' Young said, taking a step towards Whitlock. 'As I said to you in Rome, it was General Wiseman who wanted you in on the operation. Not me. I could have handled it by myself, no trouble.'

'I can see that,' Whitlock said sarcastically. 'You needed me to save your arse at Pisani's house. And you needed me to save it again tonight.'

'For which I'll be eternally grateful,' Young replied with equal sarcasm. His eyes narrowed. 'Who was the woman with Calvieri?'

Whitlock frowned. 'What woman? What are you talking about?'

That so-called prostitute who came to your room in Rome was out there talking to Calvieri not five minutes ago. Who is she?'

'Is that what all this is about?' Whitlock said, gesturing to the Bernadelli in Young's hand. 'You see a woman who "; looks like an Italian prostitute talking to Calvieri and you immediately jump to conclusions.'

2.Z4

'They were one and the same, I'm sure of it. I'm hardly

.ely to forget a face or a figure like that in a hurry.' I "What possible reason would that prostitute have for ing up here to Berne? It makes no sense at all. And if thought about it logically, you'd agree.'

'You're good, I'll grant you that. But you're not good

iugh. If you haven't told me who she is in five seconds'

ic I'll put a bullet in your left kneecap. I'm told the pain is unbearable. Another five seconds and I'll put a bullet |*n your right kneecap. Then, if you still won't talk, I'll Hresort to the transmitter. I'm dying to try it out. It's the first of its kind. If it's any good I might just patent it. I'm Sure the CIA would be interested.'

'You're mad,' Whitlock said, staring at the glazed ex-i: pression in Young's eyes.

'Five seconds. Starting now.'

'Look, I don't know who she is,' Whitlock said in ' desperation, his eyes flickering towards the glass cabinets on the wall. They were out of reach. Even if he could have reached them, he would have had to smash the glass to get to the weapons. Young would have shot him long before he got there.

'Two seconds,' Young said, reaching his left hand into his jacket pocket for the transmitter.

Whitlock saw his chance. He lunged at Young, bringing the lead piping down across the back of his gun hand. Young cried out in pain and the Bernadelli fell to the floor. Whitlock grabbed Young's wrist as he pulled the transmitter from his pocket and ran him backwards into the cabinet containing the two ceremonial tachi. The glass shattered and Whitlock slammed the back of Young's hand against the shards still embedded in the frame. A piece of glass sliced across the back of Young's hand and in his haste to pull away from the searing pain the

2.2.5

transmitter slipped from his bloodied fingers. Whitlock made the mistake of taking his eyes off Young for a split second to kick the transmitter out of the way. Young butted Whitlock savagely in the face and followed through with two hammering body punches, dropping Whitlock to his knees. Young grabbed the nearest tachi, wrenched it out of its sheath, and, using both hands to grip the hilt, lashed out at Whitlock, who managed to hurl himself sideways a split second before the blade, missing him by inches, sliced through the mat where he had been kneeling. Whitlock brought his foot up sharply into Young's midriff then, springing to his feet, he managed to draw the second tachi from its sheath before Young had time to catch his breath.

They circled each other warily, the tachi held away from their bodies, neither of them prepared to make the first move. Young suddenly gripped the hilt firmly in both hands and scythed the blade at Whitlock, who parried the blow with the blunt edge of his tachi. Young lashed out again but this time Whitlock managed to evade the blade, which smashed into the second cabinet, spilling several of the ninja weapons on the floor around them. Young swivelled round as Whitlock aimed a thrust at his midriff and blocked the attempt. The two blades locked and Whitlock shoved Young against the wall, his arm shaking as he forced the two blades ever closer to Young's face. Young lashed out with his foot, catching Whitlock on the knee. Whitlock stumbled back in pain, lost his footing on one of the mats, and fell to the floor. Young noticed the transmitter lying beside the door. He discarded the tachi and made a grab for it.

Whitlock knew he wouldn't be able to reach Young before he pressed the button. He looked around in desperation for the Bernadelli. It was out of reach. His fingers

iz6

I something cold on the floor beside him. An eight- \shuriken. It was his only chance. Young uncapped 'transmitter's protective seal and looked up trilantly. Whitlock flung the shuriken. It struck Young tin the forehead, spraying blood across the wall behind , The transmitter slipped from Young's hand and the lishment was still mirrored in his eyes when he fell rard on to the floor. IWhitlock got to his feet gingerly and retrieved the asmitter, which lay next to Young's body. He secured protective cap over the button again then crossed to : case by the window and used the cordless telephone ťcall Kolchinsky and tell him what had happened. Kolchasky told him to go back to the boarding house where : was staying and he would arrange for a scientist to be Esent down from Zurich to defuse the booby-trapped I watch. Whitlock replaced the telephone in the case and walked to the door, where he paused to pick up the rBernadelli. It could come in useful. He pocketed it then ^looked around slowly at the havoc before closing the door behind him and padlocking it again.

Kolchinsky replaced the receiver and told Graham what had happened.

'Is he all right?' Graham asked once Kolchinsky had finished speaking.

'Mercifully yes. I told him to go back to the boarding house.'

'Surely he'd be of more use to us here?'

'And let Calvieri see him?' -- 'That's being a bit overcautious, isn't it?'

'I don't think so. Remember, the Red Brigades have got a good description of C.W. I'm not saying Calvieri

BOOK: Red Alert
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