‘Do we have any idea where von Hei?en might be?’
‘He retired in San Pedro, but he was apparently tipped off that Mossad were finally on to him and he had to leave in a hurry – perhaps to Peru.’
‘So the trail has already gone cold.’
‘Perhaps. Nevertheless, you are to make some discreet – very discreet – enquiries. As a cover, you are being assigned to the same parish of San Pedro on Lake Atitlan, which has been without a permanent priest for some time. Your primary aim remains the discovery of the Maya Codex, and you’re to leave for Guatemala tomorrow. Father Cordona has your travel documents. Should you need to make contact, the papal nuncio in Guatemala City has secure communications, but even he does not know the real purpose of your return. In the meantime, these photographs will remain in my safe, Monsignor.’ Felici waved the file at Jennings. ‘I do hope you won’t give me an opportunity to use them.’
34
VIENNA
A ntonio Sodano quietly raked the pins of the lock to Aleta’s apartment. Encountering the same problem O’Connor had experienced, he changed to a finer pick and raked them again. He held the tension with his torsion wrench and lifted the final pin over the shear line and turned the cam. Sodano eased open the cedar door and listened. A light was coming from the left, and he could hear the sound of running water. He silently moved forward and peered around the corner of the hallway. In the bathroom at the end of the corridor a woman was cleaning her teeth. She matched the photograph he’d been given. She was tall and shapely, standing now, examining her teeth in the mirror, an outline of her breasts straining against her nightshirt. He felt for the gag in his pocket and withdrew back into the front hallway.
Aleta turned off the light and headed towards her bedroom.
Sodano flattened himself against the wall and waited. The woman passed without looking into the hallway. He took two steps, clamped his right hand over her mouth and wrenched her hair back with his left.
Aleta let out a muffled scream and Sodano winced as she bit hard into his hand.
‘ Schlampe! Bitch!’ He bundled Aleta into her bedroom and pinned her to the wall. Aleta’s eyes widened in fear as she felt the knife against her throat.
O’Connor found both the heavy double wooden doors to the courtyard and the steel security door at the bottom of the steps to Aleta’s apartment ajar. Fearing the worst, he drew his Glock 21 and silently bounded up the staircase, two stairs at time. The front door was unlocked. O’Connor paused at the sound of voices from inside.
‘Not so feisty now, are we?’ Sodano sneered as he ran his free hand up Aleta’s inner thigh.
Aleta spat in his face.
‘You’re going to regret that, bitch.’ Sodano moved the knife back against Aleta’s neck and fondled her breasts.
O’Connor eased his way up the hall and cautiously looked around the door jamb, only to make immediate eye contact with Aleta. Her sharp intake of breath was enough. Sodano reacted in an instant, whipping Aleta around in front of him and pressing the knife harder on her neck. ‘Drop the gun, O’Connor, or she gets it. Now!’
O’Connor reluctantly threw the Glock onto the floor in front of him. Sodano’s use of his name was instant confirmation that Aleta was not the hitman’s only target.
‘Now step back.’ Sodano shoved Aleta to one side. She stumbled on the rug beside the bed and for a moment, as he tried to hold her, Sodano was distracted. O’Connor swung his right leg in a roundhouse kick to Sodano’s ribcage, pushing powerfully with his left leg. Sodano grunted in pain, releasing Aleta. The knife arced harmlessly through the air, clattering against the wardrobe. O’Connor head-butted Sodano and then fought for balance as the tough little Sicilian hooked his leg behind O’Connor’s right knee. They tumbled out into the lounge room, each searching for grip. Sodano drove his knee into O’Connor’s thigh and they crashed against the fireplace. O’Connor slammed his elbow against Sodano’s throat and rolled onto his back, wrapping his right arm around the Sicilian’s neck. In the classic special forces choke, O’Connor secured his upper left arm on the struggling Sodano’s shoulder and applied his left forearm and hand to Sodano’s neck, forcing it forward. O’Connor squeezed his arms towards one another and Sodano’s eyes bulged with fear. O’Connor held the mafia hitman’s throat until the lifeblood drained from Sodano’s face and his head fell limp in his hands. When O’Connor was certain his assailant was dead, he rolled Sodano onto the floor, and gasped for breath. Aleta stood above him, Sodano’s knife in one hand.
‘I’m on your side. So you can put that down,’ O’Connor rasped between deep breaths.
‘Not until you tell me who you are and what the hell you’re doing in my apartment!’ Her hands were shaking.
‘My name is Curtis O’Connor. And strange as it may seem, I came to protect you.’
The shaman’s words came flooding back… There are two more men, one of whom will deal with the other. You will come to trust one of these with your life.
‘Who are you?’ Aleta demanded again.
‘That’s a long story… ’
‘Give me the short version!’
‘I’m with the CIA, and right now they want you out of the road. You’ve pissed off some seriously powerful people.’
‘If you’re with the CIA and they want me dead, how come you’re here to protect me? And who’s he?’ Aleta pointed the knife at the corpse on her living room floor.
‘Antonio Sodano, a hired hitman, or he was. But why don’t you put the knife down and perhaps I can give you the longer version over coffee?’
‘I’m calling the police!’
‘That’s the last thing you should do.’
‘Why not? A mafia hitman just attempted to murder me!’
‘Think about it,’ O’Connor said quietly. ‘If you call the police, you’ll have every journalist in Vienna on your front doorstep. You won’t be able to move without a camera crew following you, and because there’s mystery surrounding who wants you dead, the journalists are going to keep probing.’
‘Which might give me a degree of protection from assholes like you!’
‘That’s perhaps a little ungrateful?’ O’Connor suggested with a lopsided grin.
Aleta said nothing. She felt like bursting into tears.
‘And far from giving you protection,’ O’Connor continued, ‘if this gets publicity, the people who want you out of the way will redouble their efforts to silence you. These guys play for keeps and money isn’t an obstacle, Aleta. You’re going to have to trust me on this. The first priority is to get rid of the body.’
Again the shaman’s words came back: trust him with your life. ‘So we get rid of the body,’ she said, her heart rate subsiding a little, ‘but when it’s found, the police are going to come looking for me. What then?’
‘Only if it’s linked to this apartment. When’s the garbage collected?’
‘Tomorrow morning.’
‘I’ll be back shortly, but if you don’t mind, I’ll use your bathroom first.’
O’Connor looked in the mirror. ‘Not a pretty sight,’ he muttered, as he gingerly dabbed at his battered face. Several minutes later he left the apartment. Sterngasse was deserted. With a bit of luck it would stay that way, he thought, as he walked quickly down the narrow cobbled street towards several wheelie bins that were already on the street just past the bookshop. O’Connor chose a full one and headed back towards Aleta’s apartment, the load muffling the sound of the wheels on the cobblestones. When he reached the courtyard, he checked for any sign of activity in the rest of the block. Satisfied, he emptied the contents into Aleta’s bin and carried the bookshop’s empty bin up the stairs and into the living room. Aleta was sitting at the kitchen table.
‘Are you okay?’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Fine: one of the most dangerous words in the female lexicon.’
