'We climb,' said Pendergast.
He turned, seized a root, pulled himself up. D'Agosta did likewise. He grabbed a stem, another, found a foothold. In his haste, one of the plants tore out of the wall, sending down a shower of rotting brick. D'Agosta dangled, recovered. He could see Pendergast already far above him, climbing like a cat. The lights below were coming up the hill, while another group to their right was also closing in.
'Faster!' Pendergast hissed.
D'Agosta seized a vine, another, slipping, scrambling, one leg scrabbling in space.
He now heard a cacophony of voices behind him. Pendergast was just reaching the top of the wall. There was a shot and the thud of the bullet on the wall to his right. One more hoist up, one more foothold.
Two more shots. Pendergast was reaching down, grabbing him by the arms, hauling him to the top. The lights had now reached the open area just before the wall, bobbing frantically, flashing up on the wall and hitting them.
'Down!'
D'Agosta was already throwing himself down on the crumbling, overgrown top of the massive wall. It was at least ten feet from side to side.
'Crawl.'
Digging in his elbows and knees, he began to crawl across the top of the wall, keeping cover in the vegetation. There was a burst of automatic-weapons fire, the rounds snicking through the bush above, showering him with twigs and leaves.
They reached the other side-only to see more men there, arriving with dogs: silent dogs held on leashes. D'Agosta ducked back and rolled from the edge as more shots raked the bushes to one side of him.
'Jesus!' He lay on his back for a moment, staring at the unmoving stars.
The sudden baying of dogs reached his ears. The dogs had been released.
Now there were voices on either side, a babel of Italian and English. Powerful lights passed overhead, shone from below. D'Agosta could hear the rustle and scramble of climbing.
Pendergast was suddenly at his ear. 'We stand up and run. Stay in the middle of the wall and run at a crouch.'
'They'll shoot us.'
'They're going to kill us, anyway.'
D'Agosta stood, began to run-not exactly run, but push and crash through the heavy vegetation growing out of what must have once been a walkway at the top.
Lights raked the top of the wall, and a burst of gunfire sounded. And a voice: 'Non sparate!'
'Keep running!' Pendergast cried.
But it was too late. There, in front of them on the wall, dark figures were mounting, blocking the way. Lights shone in their direction. D'Agosta and Pendergast dove to the rubble, flattening themselves.
'Non sparate!' someone shouted again. 'Do not shoot!'
From behind, D'Agosta saw that a second group had surmounted the wall. They were surrounded. D'Agosta lay huddled in a pool of brilliant light, feeling exposed, naked.
'Eccoli! There they are!'
'Hold your fire!'
And then a voice-quiet and reasonable-said:
'You may both stand up now and surrender. Or we will kill you. Your choice.'
{ 54 }
Locke Bullard stared across the table at the two men shackled to the wall. Two sons of bitches dressed in black special-ops outfits. They were Americans, that much was clear; probably CIA.
He turned to his security chief. 'Wipe the paint off their faces. Let's see who they are.'
The man pulled out a handkerchief and brusquely wiped off the paint.
Bullard could hardly believe his eyes. They were the two people he least expected: the police sergeant from Long Island and Pendergast, the FBI special agent. Immediately, he realized Vasquez had failed. Or more likely, run off with the money. Unbelievable. Yet even without Vasquez, it stunned Bullard to think these two had somehow followed him to Italy and managed to break through several layers of security at the lab. He kept underestimating them, again and again. He had to get out of that habit. These two were formidable. And that's exactly what he didn't need. He had something a lot more important to do than mess around with these two.
He turned to the security director. 'What happened?'
'They penetrated outer security at the old railroad grade, made it as far as the second ring. They tripped the laser grid at the inner field.'
'You found out what they're after? What they heard?'
'They heard nothing, sir. They got nothing.'
