For a moment she considered rushing Gavin. She could see by Itchy’s stance he had the same idea. But Gavin had placed his handgun within easy reach and he’d be able to shoot one or both of them before they got anywhere near him.
‘Bingo! Lashirah’s taken the lad. She’s moving away.’ Gavin’s hands tightened on the rifle and a deafening crack came a moment after.
‘Christ!’ Itchy said, swinging the binoculars up to his eyes.
‘I got Hope, I’m sure I got her!’
‘Itchy?’ Silva strained her eyes to see across the water. The terrace was just a tiny blur of light. ‘Sit rep?’
‘I can’t tell. Hope’s down, but…’
‘I fucking told you!’ Gavin was pushing himself up from the rifle. ‘She’s wasted.’
‘…it doesn’t look like she’s hurt. She’s crawling across to… oh fuck!’
Silva dashed in from the balcony. She moved to the video monitor. The dim image showed Karen Hope on her hands and knees. One Secret Service agent crouched with a weapon drawn covering the water, while the second was bending over Lashirah Haddad, first placing a hand on her neck, then moving to her chest.
A succession of rockets climbed higher and higher into the sky, each exploding brighter and louder than the last. Once more a shimmering rain cascaded down and it looked for a moment as if both the sky and the sea were on fire. There was a final tremendous bang and the last firework poured golden sparks down on the still black water.
Silence. A brief smattering of cheering and applause from around the bay. And then, from far, far across the water, the sound of a young child screaming.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Itchy came in from the balcony. He shut the doors, closed the shutters and pulled the curtains across. Then he crossed the room and reached for the light switch.
‘You fucking idiot.’ He strode over to where Gavin stood next to Silva staring at the monitor. ‘What are you going to tell Mr Fairchild now?’
‘He told me it was important to take the shot.’ Gavin shrugged. ‘Whatever the consequences.’
Silva was trying to make sense of the image on the monitor. Lashirah Haddad lay unmoving on her back with an agent hunched over her. The Hopes and the other guests had retreated inside the villa.
‘Is she dead?’ Itchy said.
‘I don’t know,’ Silva said. ‘Looks as if she was hit somewhere in the chest. The bullet would have passed through her body. I guess it depends if it missed her heart or not.’
‘They think the shot came from the water.’ Itchy jabbed a finger at the screen. ‘Look at the way the other agent is hunkered down.’
The second man had a weapon drawn and was keeping low behind the terrace wall. The wall provided cover from somebody shooting from the sea, but their own position was at an angle to the side and higher up.
‘Small mercies.’ Gavin shook his head. ‘I’m sorry. I just wanted to get the job done.’
‘Well you’ve done the job now, mate.’ Itchy bent and picked up the pistol. ‘Name me one reason why I shouldn’t pop you?’
‘Put the gun away, Itchy,’ Silva said. ‘We need to work together to get out of this, OK?’
‘She’s right.’ Gavin gestured at the sniper rifle and boxes of kit. ‘We need to stick to the plan and make our getaway before the cops decide on a house-to-house.’
‘Well, we’d better hurry, then.’ Itchy moved to the balcony door and cracked it an inch. There was a percussive chop chop chop. ‘They’ve already got a helicopter up.’
‘How the—?’ Silva said.
‘Naples,’ Gavin said. ‘It’s just over the ridge. Probably no less than five minutes’ flight time.’
For a second nobody moved. Then, as one, they jumped into action. Silva began to disassemble the rifle, removing the bipod and putting the weapon in its case. Itchy was dealing with the AV equipment and other items, while Gavin sorted out the rest of the kit. Within ten minutes they had everything down in the courtyard.
‘If the police come knocking now, we’re stuffed,’ Silva said. ‘Red-handed is the word.’
‘Fingers crossed, then,’ Gavin said. He disappeared down the steps and five minutes later he had the van idling outside. ‘Come on!’
Silva and Itchy didn’t need any encouragement. They grabbed their stuff and piled it into the back of the van. The helicopter was still out there, hovering high above the sea, a searchlight picking out the motor boats and yachts. On the water a police patrol craft sped between the boats while an ever-increasing cacophony of sirens echoed through the town.
They climbed up into the van and Gavin pulled away.
‘We’ll take the back way out of here,’ he said as he turned a sharp right and then left, zigzagging up and away from the main road. ‘You’ve seen the coastal route. Even if the police don’t put a roadblock in, it’ll be gridlock as the news of the shooting spreads.’
The lane narrowed to barely the width of the van as it cut under the huge cliffs that loomed over the town. Gavin flicked the lights off so they were driving on sidelights only. To the right the terrain fell away precipitously. Somewhere down there was the main road and below that the sea. The van bounced as it hit a small bolder and for a second the steering wheel was spinning freely. Then Gavin grabbed hold and wrenched it round. Silva closed her eyes.
When she opened them the horizon lurched one way and the other before they crested a rise and were on a flat road high above the town and the sea.
‘Thank God,’ Itchy said as Gavin turned the lights back on. ‘That was worse than being in the lead vehicle on a patrol in Helmand Province.’
‘Back to the lodge?’ Silva said.
‘No.’ Gavin stared through the windscreen into the darkness. ‘I’ve got specific instructions. We’re to rendezvous with Lona near Salerno. Then we’ll drive north to Florence where there’s a private airfield.’
‘What about Brindisi?’
‘It’s way too risky coming back into
