He was in the shadow of the trees when the fourth bullet thumped into the mud a couple of inches from his left knee. He had decided, with a kind of reckless chivalry, that they would get him before they got Anna. Though his body would offer feeble protection, judging by the second bullet that had passed straight through Rice and sliced into the tree behind.
Hawn thought, even one gun — a heavy automatic pistol — tilted the odds considerably. Now, if they could just get to the cafe… He remembered that Hanak’s car was facing away from the trees. If they could only reach it, they would just have those few vital seconds to get the engine started. Enough for a bullet in the tyre, the petrol tank?
Hanak was lying on his side under the narrow tree trunks, adjusting a long metal tube to the end of a pistol. Hawn thought at first that he was fixing a silencer, then realized that he was converting the gun into a small rifle. He had taken out a leather sling which he snapped round his shoulder and wrist to give himself extra leverage. ‘Keep your eyes skinned on those trees — we may spot a muzzle-flash.’
‘Who are they?’ Anna said, in a small distant voice, as though she had not fully taken in what was happening.
‘How the devil should I know? — except that there’s at least one marksman out there with a very powerful rifle.’ Hanak’s voice was brisk, competent.
Then two sounds reached them simultaneously. The fifth bullet shrieked into the tree beside Hanak, grazing his left thumb; and at the same time, two quick rattling noises, like pebbles being shaken inside a tin can. Hawn recognized the sounds at once, horribly, excitingly familiar — bursts of automatic fire — and they were not being aimed at them. Then a third burst, followed by shouts, and a scream — shrill, like a woman’s scream, carrying clearly across the water.
Hawn thought he could see movement in the trees opposite, but with only one good eye his vision was soon blurred. He heard a voice: ‘No one move!’
More voices, shouts of command, tramping feet; then the growl of approaching vehicles. The three of them crouched rigidly behind the pines. The voices continued from the far bank, but less urgent now. Then, coming down the pier, the sound of boots. Hanak had hastily dismantled his gun and sling and put them away under his coat.
Whether it was the cold or the excitement, his pale cheeks were flushed pink.
Hawn said savagely, ‘Well, Sam, how does this fit into your game? Or perhaps it wasn’t part of your brief? They never brief you enough, do they? Always finish up by dropping you in the shit.’
Sam Hanak did not reply; he did not even look at Hawn. He was looking at the two Vopos who had appeared around the side of the cafe. They were followed by the short, bulky figure of Colonel Kardich. He was in uniform this time — epaulettes, smock-tunic, boots, belt and holster all polished like dark mirrors. The pair of Vopos had their guns aimed at the three of them. One of them said, ‘Raus!’
Anna was already coming out with her hands up. Hawn followed her, but without raising his hands, reaching instead to shield her from what was left of Doctor Rice. The Vopos had young hard faces, their eyes full of dull hostility. Kardich walked round them. ‘Miss Admiral, you may put your hands down.’ He stopped and glanced down at Rice, then moved the body gently with the toe of his boot, turning it enough to see what had happened to the scientist’s face. He looked up at Hanak, then at Hawn.
‘He was a valuable man, Doktor Reiss. One of the best of his kind.’ His voice was flat, without emotion. ‘Did you find what you were looking for?’
Hanak answered: ‘You found it first, long ago. We should have known that Rice wouldn’t have kept his secret that long.’
‘You are very trusting, Herr Hanak. And a little naive, I think, for a man in your position.’
The Jew stood studying his bleeding thumb, grazed by the bullet, then looked up at Kardich and smiled. ‘You’d have done the same thing, Colonel. Only you had the advantage of operating on your home ground.’
Kardich blinked wearily at him. ‘Follow me, all of you.’ They made their way round the cafe and along the pier. Two jeeps were drawn up a little way down the road, and opposite the trees where the shooting had come from stood a truck. A dozen men were moving around, several of them wearing steel helmets.
A couple of Vopos emerged from the trees opposite the island, lugging a bulky weight wrapped in an army blanket One of them also carried, besides his Kalashnikov automatic, a sporting rifle with a telescopic lens. Kardich led the way until the two parties met. The Colonel signalled the Vopos to stop, said something, and they dropped their bundle like a heavy sack on the road. Kardich leant down and pulled back the end of the blanket. ‘You know him?’
Anna shuddered and looked away. Hawn nodded. ‘A Corsican — Serge Rassini. We first saw him in Turkey. He was pretending to be drunk.’
‘He will not get drunk again,’ Colonel Kardich said. The Corsican’s face was splashed with mud, and there was a dark clotted mass at his throat. Kardich let go of the blanket and signalled to the two Vopos to carry on.
Behind them
