island shirt with hula dancers on it. 'I'd say you're the one in the wrong business.'
'We'll see,' Joey said. 'We all get lucky once in a while. Don't we? I wouldn't count on it happening again.'
'You never know,' McCabe said.
'Where's my cuz at?'
McCabe pointed to the balcony of the terrace restaurant just above them on the west side of the steps. Angela was standing at the railing. Joey looked at her and waved.
'Where's Chip?'
'Right up there,' Joey nodded, indicating the top of the steps, the street level. 'Let's do it.'
They started up, McCabe leading the way. When they got to the top, Joey glanced at him and said, 'I've got a surprise for you.'
McCabe could see Mazara standing in front of the silver Opel, and Sisto standing at the rear. Was he talking about them?
Joey said, 'Look over there, ' nodding at the roof of a yellow apartment building rising above them on the right.
He saw someone on the rooftop.
'Know who that is? My little buddy Psuz, turns out he was a sniper in the Italian army. You believe that?' Joey grinned, thinking he was back in control. 'Do anything even remotely stupid he's going to punch your ticket, put you out of business. We're going to let you see Chipper, then I want you to hand me the money and walk away, don't say another word.'
McCabe moved closer to the car, saw Noto behind the wheel, watching him. Sisto popped the trunk and he saw Chip, bound, gagged and curled up in the fetal position. Chip looked up at him, tried to say something, but Sisto slammed the lid closed. He noticed the little square in front of the Hassler was empty, the taxis and Beverage/Gelati truck were gone.
'I've got a surprise for you too,' McCabe said, eyeing Joey. He could see Captain Ferarra and three of his men coming toward them from the left, moving up the street.
4:02, Arturo was walking along Via Sistina flanked by Luciano and Gattuso. Next to Gattuso was Borri, a giant at six feet four inches tall. They were coming up next to the convent, the building that joined Trinita dei Monti. Traffic had been stopped on Via Sistina and diverted down Via Gregoriana. The street was deserted.
McCabe had phoned headquarters earlier that afternoon, and Luciano had reached him at his apartment, calling as he was leaving to spend the afternoon with his wife, Arturo trying to make up for the last time he had to cancel his plans, the day they found McCabe's rental car. His wife Teresa was an understanding woman but this was testing her patience.
Luciano explained what he knew. The same gang that kidnapped McCabe now had Chip Tallenger. The ransom exchange was to take place today, 4:00 at the Spanish Steps. The question Arturo had asked himself: where was McCabe, and if he was in trouble, why did he wait so long to contact the police?
He could see the silver Opel sedan parked next to the balustrade at the top of the Spanish Steps, and the men standing next to it. He could see four GIS moving along Via Sistina, approaching from the opposite direction. And then McCabe appeared coming up the steps, carrying a soccer bag, standing next to a bigger heavier man. He saw the sniper on the rooftop, and was bringing the cell phone to his mouth when he heard a rifle shot.
'He hands me the soccer bag shoot him,' Joey had said to him. But McCabe did not give the soccer bag to Joey, and Joey was standing close to him, so close he did not have a clear shot. Psuz noticed something else. It was quiet now. No traffic. No car had driven by on the street for some time. He aimed the scope along Via Sistina and understood why. There were police coming, four from the left and four from the right. He put the cross hairs of the scope on one of the men in a suit jacket, running past the church, squeezed the trigger, heard the crack of the rifle echo off the rooftop and saw him fall. He worked the bolt and aimed for a second man, but he was moving, they all were, taking cover behind the stairway that led to the church and he did not have another target.
When the firing started everyone scattered. McCabe popped the trunk and tried to free Chip, but Noto put the Opel in gear, took a hard left, accelerating, driving down the west side of the steps, picking up speed, front end bouncing, trunk lid swinging up and down before slamming closed.
Bullets pinged off the obelisk in front of him. Another bullet ricocheted off the sidewalk next to him. And then someone grabbed McCabe from behind and pulled him back off his feet and brought him down behind the balustrade. McCabe turning now, looking at him, dark hair, late thirties, a guy he'd never seen before in his life, squatting next to him.
'You okay? Stay down. There's a sniper up there.'
That's all he said. He was an American and had probably saved McCabe's life, but who was he? The guy glanced up at Psuz on the rooftop and took off, crouching low, moving along the balcony, and disappeared down the steps. The shooting continued, Psuz firing at the police, and the police firing back.
McCabe looked through the balusters, watched the dark- haired guy run down. Below him the Opel lost control, hit the stone railing on the second level, spun out and crashed broadside into the eastern wall. McCabe could hear the whelp of sirens, looked down, saw two carabinieri sedans enter Piazza de Spagna from opposite sides, pulling up at the bottom of the Spanish Steps, more cops getting out of the cars, moving through the scattering mass of panicked tourists. The shooting had stopped.
Mazara was confused. He had seen Angela on the terrace, sitting at a table by herself, sipping coffee. What was she doing? He ran there, hopped the entrance gate, and saw her crouching at the wall, peeking over. All of the customers had gone in the hotel, leaving their cappucini and espressos, their biscotti and cannoli on the tables. There was no one around. He crouched next to her. 'What are you doing? Why are you here?' He reached for her hand and tried to pull her up. 'Come with me. We have to go.' He could see the carabinieri running down the steps, swarming the Opel, pulling Noto out of the vehicle. 'There is no time.'
She was watching the action below, hardly paying attention to him.
'It's over,' Angela said, glancing at him. 'Go before they arrest you.'
'What about you?'
“I’m staying.”
And in that moment he understood, it became clear what had happened. 'You and McCabe, uh?'
She looked at him and nodded. He reached behind his back, gripped the Tanfoglio, wanted to take it out and shoot her for betraying him, but he couldn't do it. Two carabinieri sedans drove up Via Sistina and stopped twenty meters away. And now Roberto had no choice but to go. He ran across the terrace and went over the wall, hanging and dropping to the courtyard below.
An ambulance followed two police cars pulling up on the street above them, lights flashing, sirens wailing, and a crowd had formed around the Opel, police holding people back. Angela had come down from the top, put her arms around him, hugged him and then stood close. Captain Ferrara opened the trunk. McCabe could see Chip curled up inside. The EMS techs moved down the steps with a gurney and lifted Chip onto it, untied the gag and freed his hands. His eyes were closed and McCabe didn't know if he was alive or not. Then Chip's eyes flickered open. He looked around and saw McCabe.
''Are you afraid to die, Spartacus? When one man says no, I won't, Rome begins to fear.''
'I think he's going to make it,' McCabe said to Angela.
Chapter Thirty-eight
Joey boosted himself up on the eastern wall, and jumped a couple feet to the apartment balcony he’d seen earlier, going over the railing onto the patio and into the apartment, door unlocked, no idea who lived there, no sign of anyone, and moved down a dark hallway to the front door. He unlocked it and turned the handle, opened the door
