Bloody Passage - Jack Higgins [78]
We lifted Wyatt down in the canvas chair and Barzini and I carried him forward. He kept his chin on his chest and muttered as we put him down, "Get back, you two. I want to talk to him alone. I'll keep it going for as long as I can."
Stavrou tapped his way toward him as Barzini and I moved back to the truck, a genial smile on his face. "Why, Stephen, my boy," he said, "it's good to see you."
Gatano moved to join them and stood on the other side of the chair holding a Sterling. Wyatt raised his head slowly and I saw the dreadful pain on his face, and realized beyond any doubt that he was holding on to the final threads of life with all his strength. And I saw something more--Nino appearing round a buttress, halfway up the wall beneath the far end of the terrace.
Stavrou said something to Wyatt, I don't know what, and Wyatt gave a sudden agonized cry and turned to glance at me over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, Grant, there isn't time."
His hand came out of the right-hand pocket of his reefer coat and he was holding a Sturma stick grenade. There was a moment of total stillness and then, as Stavrou tried to turn, dropping one of his canes, the grenade exploded with devastating effect, taking out Gatano as well.
Barzini had his revolver already in his hand, but it wasn't necessary, for Moro and Bonetti, stunned by what had happened, could only stand and stare at the butcher's shop the courtyard had become.
As for me, I ran for the steps, too late, for high on the terrace, Frau Kubel had turned and was running toward Hannah, gun in hand, and Nino was still just below the overhang.
And then a rather large miracle occurred, for as the old woman paused ten feet away from her target and took careful aim, the Doberman leapt for her throat. She screamed once and they went back together over the rail falling through space, passing from sight to the rocks below.
I kept on going, taking the steps two at a time and arrived on the terrace as Nino scrambled over the rail at the other end. Hannah turned toward me, a hand outstretched.
"Who is it? What's happening?"
"Hannah," I said. "It's me--Oliver."
A look of complete bewilderment appeared on her face and she moved forward, her hands reaching out to touch. And then she smiled.
"Oliver," she said. "What kept you?"
For the first time since childhood I felt like weeping, so intense was the emotion of the moment, but I contented myself with putting my arms around her and holding her as if I'd never let her go.
15
Endpiece
We left again in Palmyra within the hour and sailed into Palermo harbor at dawn the following day. I wanted Hannah away from there and back home without delay, so Barzini pulled strings and got us seats on the flight to London that same afternoon.
He took us out to the airport at Punta Raise himself in the yellow Alfa--me, Hannah, and Simone. Nino stayed home, the streets of Palermo still unsafe for him until his uncle had the chance to arrange matters. We had an emotional farewell.
"It was a great climb," I said.
"I know, like the English say, a piece of cake." And then he laughed. "Only in the end it turned out to be a bigger slice than I thought."
At the airport, Barzini and I left the girls talking and moved out on the terrace for a final word. "Well, it was very interesting," he said.
"You can say that again. What do you think the authorities will make of it?"
"Simple enough. With an explosion like that, I'd say they'll assume some of Stavrou's old Mafia pals caught up with him."
"And Moro and Bonetti?"
"They'll button up. No percentage for them in shooting their mouths off." He lit one of his vile Egyptian cheroots. "Yes, it was quite like old times."
"Only we're not as young as we were."
"So you feel that way, too?" He grinned. "Time to settle down, Oliver, with a good woman." He looked inside at Hannah and Simone.