Алистер Маклин - Red Alert

Boudien turned to Paluzzi.

‘Did you see what kind of helicopter it was?’

‘No,’ Paluzzi lied. ‘All I saw was that it was white with a single figure at the controls.’

‘Did you see his face?’ Boudien asked.

‘You must be joking,’ Paluzzi said incredulously. ‘A second later I was underwater.’

Boudien gripped the railing tightly and stared out across the Khalikiopoulos Lagoon.

‘Who do you think did it?’ Paluzzi asked, casting a sidelong glance at him.

‘Signore Karos had many enemies. It could have been set up by any one of them.’

‘How about Lino Zocchi?’ Paluzzi asked, watching for a reaction. Boudien’s face remained impassive.

‘I don’t know him. Signore Karos never discussed his work with me.’ He suddenly eyed Paluzzi suspiciously. ‘Is that why you and the American came here, to ask Signore Karos about this man Zocchi?’

‘He did come into the conversation.’

‘The police will be here shortly,’ Boudien said. ‘You can tell them about it. You can also tell them how the two of you managed to come out of all this unscathed.’

‘You think we had something to do with Karos’s murder?’ Paluzzi demanded.

‘That’s for the police to decide. The two guards will stay here. They have orders to shoot if either of you attempts to escape.’

Paluzzi watched Boudien return to the lift, then turned to Graham and told him what was happening.

‘And there is only one way out of here,’ Graham said, glancing at the lift. ‘Angelo should have heard the gunfire from the helicopter.’

‘What can he do?’

‘There’s a rope ladder attached to the side of the passenger seat. If he dropped it we could conceivably grab hold of it as the helicopter passed overhead. I know it’s a long shot but it’s our only real chance.’

Graham looked at his watch.

‘It’s 4.17. We’ll give him until 4.20. No longer. Then we’ll have to take our chances with the lift. We have to be out of here before the cops arrive especially if they are already in Karos’s back pocket.’

‘What about the guards? We’d be dead before we got anywhere near the lift.’

‘We’d be dead before we got anywhere near the rope ladder as well. We’ve got to take them out, whatever happens.’ Graham shaded his eyes as he looked up at the approaching helicopter. ‘Looks like the cavalry’s just arrived.’

Paluzzi followed his gaze. ‘What about the guards?’

‘Let them come to us. They’re bound to be suspicious of the helicopter. You take the short one on the left. I’ll take his friend.’

The guards moved towards them. The short guard gestured for them to move away from the railing. Paluzzi and Graham stepped back, their hands raised above their heads. The second guard crossed to the railing, the Spectre gripped in both hands, waiting for the helicopter to come into firing range. The lift began to descend from the terraces.

Boudien had seen the helicopter and was sending up more guards to deal with it. Graham and Paluzzi exchanged glances. There was no time to lose. Paluzzi lunged at the short guard, parrying the Spectre with his left arm, and brought his knee up savagely into the guard’s groin. The Spectre slipped from his fingers. Graham picked it up and shot the second guard even as he turned, gun raised to fire. Paluzzi grabbed the second Spectre and turned towards the lift, waiting for the other guards to arrive.

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

‘You go first,’ Graham shouted above the noise of the helicopter’s rotors.

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 flung against the railing. He caught the side of his head on one of the metal struts before he was pulled up over the railing into the air.

Two guards sprinted from the lift and fired at the retreating helicopter but within seconds it was out of range, leaving them cursing at the railing.

Blood streamed down the side of Graham’s face and he had to use all his willpower to stave off the unconsciousness that threatened to overpower him. His left hand slipped and for one terrifying moment all that prevented him from falling the three hundred feet down on to the rocks below was the strength of his right hand on the last rung of the ladder.

His body swung precariously from side to side and his head was shaken violently. With a supreme effort he reached up with his left hand and clamped it around the bottom rung again. He tried to pull himself up but it was no good, he just didn’t have the energy. He closed his eyes, hoping that might stop his head spinning. It only seemed to make it worse. His fingers were slipping on the ladder. He gritted his teeth and dug his fingers into the rope. It was no good.

He was going to fall. His left 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 facade with a transmitter he had undipped from his belt. The wall slid back to reveal a soundproof metal door. Marco punched an access code into the bell push and the door slid open revealing a blue-carpeted corridor. He closed it again behind them, using a second combination which caused the outside wall to slide back into place as well. 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 Pesco’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 with the NOCS. And Pesco resented Paluzzi’s popularity with the men. They only spoke to each other when necessary. It was a problem known to Italy’s joint chiefs-of-staff but they couldn’t decide which of them to have transferred to another unit.