Edge of Tomorrow (52 page)

“Shit!” exclaimed Bronson. “The Italians
won’t like that!”

“Neither will The Prince of Monterra, and the
U.S. will be especially upset when they find out who the pretender
to the throne is,” added Carmelo.

“Are you gonna leave me in suspense?” asked
Bronson.

“No, but if you want points, do the research.
Leave a trail on your computer. The man you will come up with is
Marco Lucchese of Naples,” revealed Hatch.

“Double shit! The Don of
Catena di Morte
?”

“The same. There will be others, but he is
the one to fear.”

“There’s gonna be hell to pay! I’d better go
do that research so I can pass this info up the line. I sure
appreciate this, Mr. Lincoln! Anytime you need a favor, I’m your
man. Thanks, Carmelo. I owe both of you!”

He spun and dashed down the block toward the
embassy, on his way to his computer. Hatch finished his cigarette
just as the Triple Eye Jeep Grand Cherokee pulled up to the curb.
They climbed in and Hatch looked at his watch. It was 2:16 P.M.
This visit had been shorter than he had planned. Thinking of what
he was going to do later that day, and how angry Syd was going to
be, he decided he needed to be prepared.

“Take me to the nearest jewelers,” he told
the driver. “I have to make a quick purchase.”

• • •

With the $5,300 tennis bracelet—two carats of
diamonds and seven emeralds set in an 18-Karat gold band—in his
briefcase, Hatch and Carmelo boarded the chopper for the flight
back to the castle. He had not bought Syd a personal gift yet—the
clothes she had bought herself on his credit card did not
qualify—so he thought it was about time for him to do so. Besides,
a peace offering would probably be required tonight. He had
originally picked out a bracelet priced at $10,000, but Carmelo
pointed out that he had known her only a couple of weeks, and she
was very apt to refuse such an expensive gift. In fact, he had also
mused, she would probably refuse any gift.

“Take me to the Lexus compound first,” Hatch
told the pilot of the chopper. “I have some business with Colonel
Coffer.”

• • •

The Triple Eye chopper landed on the tarmac
in front of the Shadow-4 hangar, and Carmelo and Hatch went to Bill
Coffer’s office. Hatch explained his plan for “dropping in” on
Bocca.

Bill Coffer said, “It’s a simple enough plan.
Are you sure you want to do this yourself, Hatch? You pay us to
take the risks. At least let me go in first and secure the
room.”

“Thanks, Bill, but this is something I want
to do myself. I think I can handle it,” laughed Hatch.

“You haven’t told Syd about this, have you,
Hatch?” observed Carmelo.

“No.”

“So that’s why you bought the bracelet.
You’re going to be in deep shit! She’ll cut you off at the
knees—
and
cut you off,
period
!” laughed Carmelo.

“I know! I know! Shit! This is a one person
job, but she would want to get involved.”

“You could still call her and explain the
situation to her. She’s a smart gal—she’d understand,” said
Carmelo.

“She’d want to do it in my place. She’s the
one they tried to kidnap and the one they shot at. She’s used to
handling things like this herself. I can’t allow that. Let’s move
on. I’ll need a silenced pistol, Bill. Do you have a SigPro in your
inventory?” Hatch continued.

“I think so. How about an ankle gun for
backup? We have a sweet .25 caliber ten-shot,” replied Coffer. “And
you should wear a headset so we can stay in close communication in
case I need to come in and help you out.”

“Sounds good, Bill,” Hatch answered as he
looked at his watch. “Tell the Shadow crew that I want to be over
the target at 6:00 P.M. It won’t be dark yet, but there should be
shadows on the balcony by then. I would hope I can get in without
being seen by the neighbors.”

“Will do, Hatch,” said Coffer. “I suggest we
get there a little early so we can watch the target for awhile
before you go in.”

“Good suggestion, Bill. Get me my gear and
I’ll get ready,” said Hatch.

“I think I’ll wait here in Lexus world until
you get back, Hatch. I don’t want to face Syd’s questions about
where you are,” chortled Carmelo. “I don’t want to join you on her
shit list.”

• • •

At 5:50 P.M., the occupants of Shadow-4 had
been watching the three-story building for thirty-five minutes.
Bocca had come out on the balcony with another man at 5:29 P.M. and
both had smoked cigars for fifteen minutes. Hatch had his ankle gun
strapped to his right ankle under his pant leg and his SigPro in a
shoulder holster under his left arm. He put on his headset and
tested his voice-activated mike, making sure he had communications
with the Shadow-4 crew.

Coffer said, “They left the balcony door
open; that’s good. But there are at least two of them. I don’t like
that, Hatch.”

“I’ll have the benefit of surprise. I don’t
anticipate any trouble. If I run into something unexpected, I’ll
let you know and you can come down with your MP-5 and hose the
place,” chortled Hatch, knowing that was exactly what Coffer would
like to do.

“Ready?” asked Coffer.

“Let’s do it,” responded Hatch.

The Chief Engineer opened the floor hatch and
checked the rope that ran over the pulley and into the opening.

“Take her down, One,” said Coffer to the
pilot.

Hatch pulled on his thin leather gloves and
checked his grip on the rope as Shadow-4 descended to just above
the building. Hatch put his right foot in the loop at the end of
the rope.

“Put me on the balcony, Sammy,” said Hatch to
the Engineer.

Sammy nodded and turned on a switch. Hatch
descended slowly through the opening and in seconds was on the
balcony. He stepped out of the loop and gave a thumbs up. The rope
slithered back into the opening as the invisible Shadow-4 climbed
to 1,000 feet to await further orders.

Hatch took his silenced SigPro out of its
holster and switched the safety off. He had already levered a round
into the firing chamber. He entered the room silently and stepped
to the right of the door. The room appeared to be a den. Bocca was
sitting on a small couch and was talking English to a man leaning
against the far wall. The man answered in heavily-accented English.
Hatch detected a Russian accent.

Must be one of their
Russian connections
, thought Hatch.

“Don’t move, gentlemen,” Hatch said in
English, his weapon pointing between them.

They both looked up, startled. The Russian’s
right hand started to move, then relaxed as he saw he had no chance
to get to the weapon under his left arm.

“Where the fuck you come from?” asked Bocca
in accented English.

“Put your hands on your heads, please. Now!”
ordered Hatch, ignoring Bocca’s question.

They both replied quickly.

Hatch switched to Russian and said, “Too bad
you’re here, comrade. My business is with Bocca. Now, take your
left hand and slowly take your pistol out of its holster and put it
on the carpet.”

The Russian showed surprise on his face and
replied in Russian, “Your Russian is very good. Are you
Russian?”

“The gun, comrade,” repeated Hatch, paying no
attention to the question.

The Russian did as he was told.

“Kick it over here,” Hatch continued in
Russian.

Hatch picked up the Glock 9mm semiautomatic,
made sure the safety was on, and shoved it under his belt.

“Face the wall, comrade, and lean your hands
against it. Stay still, and you may survive this meeting. Try
anything, and you will never see Moscow again.”

“I’m hardly a ‘comrade’ in Moscow. I never
believed in that shit. I hate to share. I am a pure
capitalist!”

“Bully for you. Just don’t aggravate me or
you’ll share Bocca’s fate—which is not a good one, I’m afraid.”

Hatch moved to his right so he could face
Bocca and still watch the Russian. He switched to English.

“Now you,
Signore
Bocca. Are you armed? Don’t lie to me or
you will regret it.”

“No,” was Bocca’s curt answer.

“Stand up and turn around.”

Bocca did as he was told and Hatch patted him
down, watching the Russian out of the corner of his eye. In
Shadow-4, Colonel Coffer could hear Hatch’s conversation, so he
knew everything was going smoothly so far, but he was ready if he
was needed. Hatch had Bocca sit back down on the couch.

“Now, asshole, if you haven’t guessed, I was
sent here by Don Corleone to resolve this nonsense about you and
your associates killing one of the Don’s nephews, and attempting
other murders. Didn’t that fucker Guido tell you this?”

“Who’s Guido?” Bocca snarled.

Hatch put a bullet in Bocca’s left knee. The
Russian jerked his head around when he heard Bocca scream and saw
blood flowing from the wound, soaking Bocca’s pant leg.

In Russian, Hatch said, “This doesn’t concern
you, comrade!”

The Russian faced the wall again, wondering
who this dangerous man was and how he got into the room. He figured
he would not leave this room alive.

“Wrong answer, Bocca!” Hatch said, switching
back to English.

Bocca was holding his knee, trying to stop
the flow of blood, and whimpering in pain.

“I want to make it quite clear to you
and your boss Lucchese that Don Corleone will not tolerate any more
attacks against
Castello di Bragno
or any of its people,” lectured Hatch.

“Who’s Lucchese?” groaned Bocca.

Hatch shot him the right knee.

“You’re a slow learner, shithead. Do you
understand the consequences of any more attacks? Even a dirty look?
As you can see, I can find you wherever you are.”

Bocca was groaning and bleeding. The Russian
was in a panic and wanted to curry favor with the madman. He
switched to English so Bocca could understand what he was about to
say.

“You’re too late, whoever you are. They sent
a team of men to hit the castle,” said the Russian without turning
around.

Hatch clamped his jaw tight and glared at
Bocca.

“Is he right, you bastard?” Hatch screamed at
Bocca.

“Lucchese sent them, not me!” moaned
Bocca.

“When?” asked Hatch, his chest tightening,
visions of Syd floating before his eyes.

“A couple of hours ago,” answered the
Russian. “Lucchese sent his enforcer—a guy named Tony—to organize
an assault on the castle.”

“Coffer, they sent a group to the castle.
Warn Gunny now!”

“I know. Gunny just called! They’re there
now!”

“Get ready to pick me up! Tell Gunny we’re on
our way!” said Hatch.

Hatch looked at Bocca with contempt, then
looked at his watch. It was 5:59 P.M.

“Get Lucchese on the phone, now!” he yelled
at Bocca.

Bocca picked up the cordless phone from the
end table and dialed.

“Marco! Sal. There’s a man here wants to talk
to you,” he said in Italian, then handed the phone to Hatch.

“Listen, you piece of shit! I’ve just learned
that you sent a force against my castle. Big mistake! I would talk
longer, but thanks to you, I have to leave now. I’m going to punish
Bocca, then go take care of your Tony and his band of assholes.
Then, I’ll come for you, Lucchese! Count on it!” Hatch yelled.

He stuck the phone back in Bocca’s bloody
hand.

“I’m leaving now, Bocca. Convince your boss
that I’m a very serious man!”

Hatch switched his gun to his left hand, then
drew the Russian’s Glock from his belt. He walked over to the
Russian and hit him on the head with the gun. The Russian dropped
to the floor like a sack of wheat. He turned back to face Bocca,
who was jabbering in Italian into the phone. Hatch pointed the
Glock and shot Bocca in the left shoulder. Bocca dropped the phone
as the force threw him against the cushions. The sound of the
unsilenced gun would bring people running, and send a message to
Lucchese.

“Maybe your cohorts will get here before you
bleed to death. If they do, happy wheelchair, you miserable,
crippled fuck.”

Hatch stepped out onto the balcony, dropped
the Glock over the railing, holstered his SigPro, and put his foot
in the loop of the waiting rope.

“Beam me up, Scotty,” he said into his
mike.

• • •

Earlier, at 5:30 P.M. at
Castello di Bragno
, Sara and Syd met
in the small dining room for a cocktail. After their time at the
pool, they had had lunch, then took naps. Now they fixed themselves
vodka and tonics and sat down at the dining room table. Hatch and
Carmelo were not back yet, but then, Syd had not expected them to
be.

I hope Hatch is all right!
He could have least let me ride along in Shadow-4—be there in case
he needed me
, thought Syd as she took a pull on her
drink.

At that precise moment, Tony, Sonny,
and four handpicked
catenari
thugs were approaching the west side of the castle in the
moat in a Zodiac rubber boat. They had entered the moat from the
lake which fed water into the moat. Tony had bribed an official at
the Historical Renovations Department and had received a copy of
the plans of the castle. His plan was to enter the castle through
the door that led to the large dining room, secure the castle, and
search for the letter—torturing people if necessary to get them to
reveal its whereabouts. He knew there may be some
Sicilian Mafia
guys in there—and
some hit woman from America—but he figured he could handle them.
Especially with the element of surprise. What he did not know was
that the castle was being protected by high-tech equipment and
extremely well-trained commandos.