Day of Confession - Allan Folsom [119]
And then he was up and through it. Choking, gasping, sucking in air. He saw light from somewhere cutting a ribbon through the dark.
“Elena!” he heard himself yell. “Elena!!”
“I’m here.”
Her voice came from behind him. Startling him, making him swing around. In the light he saw her swimming toward him.
Abruptly he felt his feet touch ground, and he staggered forward to sprawl on a rocky shelf, gasping, exhausted. Outside he could see thick undergrowth and sunlight shimmering off the lake beyond it. Then he saw Elena move up on the rock shelf beside him, but she was looking off, past him, toward the water where they had just been. Real time came back, and he followed her gaze. Then he saw what she was looking at, and he could feel the chill cut through him.
Danny was like a ghost. Pale, almost transparent. Gaunt as death. Bearded and nearly naked. Bandages all but washed away. Lying only feet away, staring at him.
“Harry,” he said. “Jesus H. Christ.”
THE SOUND OF DANNY’S VOICE hung frozen in the close air of the water cave as the brothers stared at one another, half in sheer joy and half in disbelief that they were not only alive but together and face-to-face after so many years.
Finally Harry stood and quickly slid back down the rock to where Danny was. Bracing himself, he reached out.
“Take my hand,” he said.
Slowly Danny reached up, their hands met, and Harry started to pull him up onto the ledge, sliding partway back into the water at the last moment to take special care of Danny’s broken legs that miraculously were still enclosed by the blue casts.
“Are you all right?” Harry asked as he crawled up beside him.
“Yes… ,” Danny nodded weakly and tried to smile, and Harry could see the exhaustion beginning to overtake him. Then suddenly, and from behind them, came a loud unrestrained sob. Instantly both men looked up.
Elena sat on the rock ledge where Harry had left her. Her eyes were closed and her arms were pulled tight around her, while her entire body shuddered with sobs of enormous relief. Sobs she tried to hold back but could not.
Getting up quickly, his feet slipping on the damp rocks, Harry climbed up to where she was.
“It’s okay,” he said kneeling. Then, gently putting his arms around her, he pulled her close and held her against him.
“I’m—sorry…,” she managed, letting her head fall against his shoulder.
“It’s okay,” he said again. “We’re all right, all of us.”
Looking back toward the water, Harry could see Danny huddled on the rock ledge watching him. Yes, they were all right. But for how long? And what to do next?
90
Rome. Ambasciata della Repubblica Popolare Cinese
In Italia—Embassy, People’s Republic of China.
Still Tuesday, July 14. 2:30 P.M.
THE DARK CADILLAC LIMOUSINE TURNED ONTO Via Bruxelles and drove past the nineteenth-century stone wall surrounding the grounds of the old Parco di Villa Grazioli, now a subdivision of apartment buildings and large private residences.
The limousine slowed as it approached an armored carabinieri car backed across the sidewalk. Farther down was another. In between was number 56. Turning in, the Cadillac stopped in front of a high green gate. A moment passed and then the gate slid back and the limousine entered, the gate closing again behind it.
Moments later United States ambassador to Italy Leighton Merri-weather Fox walked up the front steps to the four-story, beige brick-and-marble structure that was the Embassy for the People’s Republic of China. With him were Nicholas Reid, deputy chief of Mission; Harmon Alley, counselor for Political Affairs; and Alley’s first secretary, James Eaton.
Inside, the mood was somber. Eaton saw Fox bow and shake the hand of Jiang Youmei, Chinese ambassador to Italy. Nicholas Reid did the same with Foreign Minister Zhou Yi, while Harmon Alley waited in turn to meet deputy Foreign Minister Dai Rui.
The topic among them, the discussion in every corner of the large