A left turn ahead — and the man’s determined expression suddenly changed to fear as he realised he was going too fast to make it around. He braked, the BMW dropping away sharply, and the Piaggio leapt back upright as Zane jerked the handlebars to straighten out. The Israeli had to lean out of the cabin to act as a counterweight as the tiny truck again threatened to overturn through the bend. One end of the bungee cord jarred loose, sending tools clattering into the pickup bed.
Eddie kicked away a shovel and moved back behind his cover. He heard the BMW closing as it exited the sharp corner. The road ahead curved right along the cliff edge. Another hit, and the 7 Series would bowl the Ape over the low wall.
No gun, so how to stop it…
Improvise.
He grabbed one of the sacks and lifted it in front of his face and chest. Two bullets hit like punches, dark loam spraying from ragged tears in the plastic, but he took the blows — then flung the ripped bag over the tailgate.
It thumped down on the BMW’s nose, spewing earth over the windscreen. The gunman was blinded by the cascade. He pulled back into the cabin, coughing and spitting. Vision blocked, the driver was forced to slow, drawing an angry hoot from the second pursuing vehicle right behind him.
Houses ahead on the inside of the bend. Eddie snatched up a rake from the scattered tools and swung it, hooking the handle of a large metal wheelie bin. Pain seared through his arms as he pulled — then the rake slipped from his grip. But the bin spun into the road behind the Piaggio.
The lead driver used the windscreen wipers to clear the soil — and saw the obstacle. Hemmed in on the narrow road, he had nowhere to go. Brakes shrieked, but too late—
The 7 Series ploughed into the bin with an explosion of garbage. The collision threw the car off course. It veered to the right and smashed into a parked car. The passenger was launched through the windscreen like a missile.
‘What just happened?’ Zane shouted.
‘He soiled himself and binned it!’ Eddie replied.
One BMW down — but the second was still a threat. It swerved around its wrecked twin and powered after the Ape.
Another gunman leaned out. Eddie dropped behind the remaining soil bags as bullets lanced across the rapidly diminishing gap between the two vehicles. One struck the cab with a piercing clang. The Piaggio reeled, the engine note dropping. Eddie thought Zane had been hit, but then the young man recovered, the sputtering two-stroke shrilling back to full power.
The road widened, and the BMW pulled alongside the Ape. Eddie raised his head. The gunman was just feet away, aiming at the Israeli—
Eddie snatched up the shears by one handle and swung them at the man’s arm. Centrifugal force clacked the blades open. The metal was rusty, but the edge was still keen — and it hacked deep into the gunman’s wrist. He screamed, yanking his bloodied limb back into the car. The gun dropped to the road and was lost behind them.
The BMW’s driver responded by jerking the wheel. The 7 Series sideswiped the Ape, sending the smaller vehicle into the oncoming lane. Zane swerved back to avoid a head-on collision, but the other man attacked again, harder.
Eddie rose, about to stab the shears through the open window—
Zane pointed his Barak backwards from the cab and fired blind. One lucky shot shattered the BMW’s windscreen, the others missing — but they passed close enough to the startled Englishman that he reflexively jerked back…
The car rammed against the Ape’s side.
The little truck was again thrown into the oncoming lane — and Eddie lost his balance, tripping over the spilled tools. Arms flailing, he stumbled backwards and toppled over the side—
One hand caught the dangling bungee cord.
It arrested his fall — for an instant, before the tough elastic stretched under his weight.
‘Shiiiiit!’ he screamed as he dropped towards the road—
The straining cord reached its limit, arresting his fall with his ankles on the pickup’s side and his head just two feet above the ground…
Now only one foot.
The massively unbalanced Ape tipped on to two wheels. Zane looked at Eddie in shock as the vehicle tilted beneath him, then hurriedly leaned from the cab’s right side to counterbalance the Englishman. The Piaggio wobbled, teetering on a knife edge — but Zane couldn’t stretch any further without letting go of the controls.
The BMW’s driver suppressed a laugh at the sight of the two men dangling from their vehicle like a clown car. Grinning, he brought the 7 Series back into contact — only a nudge this time, but still enough to send the Ape at the wall.
Eddie saw it rushing at him—
Muscles straining, he wound the bungee cord around his fist to raise himself a little higher, clearing the top of the low stone barrier by an inch. But he still didn’t have enough leverage to haul himself back into the truck.
A telephone pole loomed ahead, waiting to slice him in two—
Zane saw it — and let go of the handlebars, almost rolling out of the cab before catching the throttle with his left hand.
The sudden shift in weight jerked the Piaggio back down on to all three wheels, practically catapulting the Yorkshireman into the cargo bed as the pole sliced through the air behind him.
But now the Israeli was trapped in the same situation that Eddie had just escaped, unable to pull himself upright. The Ape swung back across the road, Zane hearing the roar of the BMW’s engine coming up fast from behind.
He twisted his head to see the twin radiator grilles rushing at him—
Eddie grabbed a heavy gardening fork from the box and hurled it through the onrushing car’s shattered windscreen. ‘Fork off!’
The three prongs thunked deep into the driver’s throat with a spurt of blood. He spasmed, thrashing in his seat. The BMW’s charge stopped inches short of Zane as the man’s foot came off the accelerator, then it veered left and bumped the Ape’s flank.
The blow gave the Mossad agent the extra impetus he needed to drag himself back into the cab. He stamped on the brake pedal as the 7 Series swerved past, smashing through the wall and hurtling over the cliff. It arced down towards the sea a hundred feet below, disappearing in an explosion of spray.
The Ape rattled to a halt beside the new opening. Oncoming cars stopped, their occupants regarding the scene with alarm. Shaking, Eddie climbed out of the pickup and went to check on Zane. ‘You okay?’
‘I’m fine,’ said the wide-eyed young man, repeating the words as if trying to convince himself.
‘You’ve been hit.’
Zane looked at a bloodstain on his sleeve. ‘Flesh wound,’ he said, flexing the limb. ‘It’s okay.’
Eddie shook his head. ‘I know what flesh wounds are like — and they fucking hurt. Are you sure you’re all right?’
‘Yes, yes,’ the younger man insisted. ‘What about you?’
‘Not dead, still got all my bits, so… fine. We need to get out of here before the polizia show up, though. We’d better dump this thing, too — it’s a bit recognisable.’
Zane clambered from the battle-damaged Ape and started running along the road. ‘Come on.’
He had covered almost fifty metres before he heard Eddie shout: ‘Oi! You going to run back to Amalfi, or take the easy way?’ Stopping, he saw that the Englishman had gone to the third car in the line of traffic — which happened to be a taxi.
Eddie grinned as the younger man hurried back. ‘That’s something you learn as you get older; you don’t have to do every fucking thing the hard way.’ The pair got in. ‘All right, let’s go.’ His expression hardened. ‘I’ve got to find out what’s happened to Nina.’