He thought through his options. Should he increase his speed even if it put them in danger of running off the road? Suddenly, he remembered something he’d seen along the road as they’d walked up, and a plan took shape in his mind. It would take perfect execution, but it just might work.
After a sharp turn, they entered a straightaway. Zane believed the place he was looking for was just ahead on the right. He needed to get there before the pursuing vehicle turned onto the straightaway. A moment later, he saw it. It was closer than he’d expected and coming up fast. Clenching his teeth, he reached down and killed the headlights.
“Zane?” Carmen asked from the back.
Ignoring the question, he took his foot off the gas and jerked the wheel to the right, turning into a small grassy clearing. He brought the vehicle to a stop by using the emergency brake then shifted into neutral and released the brake.
The pursuing vehicle came flying around the curve, its headlights spearing down the road to their left. Zane hoped he’d pulled far enough off the road. If the other driver saw them, the plan would fail. So far, so good. He wasn’t slowing down. The driver probably assumed they had already taken another turn, which was exactly what Zane had counted on.
Zane studied the headlights in the side mirror. The approaching vehicle was almost upon them. When it was approximately twenty yards back, he shifted into drive, mashed the pedal to the floor, and turned left. His timing was flawless. The other driver saw him pull out into the road, but it was too late to react. He jammed on the brakes as Zane turned into him. The resulting impact punched the other SUV off the road and into the woods. Inertia and gravity did their work, rolling the vehicle onto its side as it careened through a stand of saplings.
A second later, a deafening bang echoed through the trees as it slammed into the trunk of a towering tree.
After slowing for one last glance, Zane hit the gas and took off down the mountain.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Zane walked quietly down the hotel corridor, a cup of coffee clutched in one hand. When he found the room he was looking for, he rapped softly on the door. A moment later, the peephole darkened and the door swung inward.
Carmen motioned him in. “Welcome. How is your room?”
“Way too small.”
After escaping down the mountain, the team had switched back to their car and traveled to Menaggio, a small town along the western shore of Lake Como. Following a brief search, they’d been able to locate two rooms in a boutique hotel overlooking the Piazza Giuseppe Garibaldi. Zane had argued they should travel an hour or two to the south, a move that would put some distance between them and the gunmen back at the villa, but Carmen had rightly pointed out Menaggio was their best chance at finding rooms at this late hour. Most of the towns lining the southwestern shores of Lake Como were small, and even though early March wasn’t the busy season, there were probably enough tourists to fill up the few hotels. In addition, they needed to get Emily into a comfortable bed where they could monitor her condition.
“Come see our patient.” Carmen shut the door behind him and set the latch.
Zane continued into the large-but-simple room. Amanda sat at the table with Pauling’s laptop under one arm.
Carmen gestured toward the two beds on the right. “As you can see, she’s still pretty groggy.”
Emily was curled up in the fetal position on the bed closest to the window. Zane was glad to see she was finally getting some rest. During the ride to Menaggio, she had improved slightly, although it was obvious some of the sedative still coursed through her veins. She’d even been able to share a few details of the last twenty-four hours.
The bulk of her time in captivity had been spent answering questions from her captors, and for the most part, she’d told them the truth. She admitted she was Richard Pauling’s daughter and that she’d come to Italy seeking clues related to his disappearance. She told them she’d been searching her father’s house when ambushed by a group of American investigators.
During one of the interrogations, Emily had asked the men about her father’s fate. A direct answer never came, but the expressions on her captors’ faces indicated he’d likely been killed. From that point forward, she had fallen into a deep period of depression. For a brief time, she’d even stopped plotting her escape. The news of her father’s probable demise had taken away her will to live.
As she’d continued to share a few details, one in particular grabbed Zane’s attention. At one point, she had awakened to find a man sitting a few feet away. He was gaunt and sallow like a corpse and had the unblinking stare of someone possessed. Emily said she’d never before felt the presence of such evil.
Zane asked Emily for more details, but the only thing she remembered was his name — Viktor. Her fear had been so intense it seemed to have erased much of what went on after that. Zane made a decision not to press her further. If her memory did return, he was sure she’d share it.
Hearing voices, Emily lifted her head. Thankfully, she didn’t seem as pale as before. Carmen had insisted she sip bottled water in the car, and the hydration seemed to have helped restore her color.
Emily’s eyes fell on Zane, and she brightened immediately. “Hey.”
“Hello.” He sat at the foot of the bed and patted her leg. “It looks like they gave you some good stuff. I could use some of that myself.”
Emily gave a little laugh. “Not sure you’d want to go through what I did in order to get some.”
“Try to get some sleep, honey,” Carmen said.
“Okay.” Emily looked briefly at Zane before adjusting her pillow and closing her eyes.
Zane and Carmen crossed to the table and pulled out chairs.
“Find anything?” Zane asked Amanda.
“We were getting Emily situated and haven’t had a chance to look.” She turned the screen so both of them could see then mashed the power button.
“Let’s hope there is something on here,” Carmen said, “because at this point, it’s all we have.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Zane pointed out. “Don’t forget your detective work from inside the wardrobe.”
After Emily had fallen asleep in the car, Carmen had briefed them on the conversation she’d overheard between the leader of the assault team and the man with an American accent. She was convinced the latter was someone she recognized. In fact, she was also convinced he was someone who held a high position within the United States government. Unfortunately, the phone connection was poor and had distorted his voice just enough to hide his identity.
The reference to the Vatican had most captured Zane’s attention. What did the cryptic reference mean? Was the Holy See after the map? Or had the man been referencing some kind of operation against the Vatican? He guessed the latter, although it was only a hunch.
Carmen sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “Assuming the Vatican reference is a lead, where do we start? Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s significant. I just don’t know what we can do with the little information we have.”
“We’ll need to put our minds together.” Zane nodded at the laptop. “Who knows? Maybe Pauling left us a piece of information linking everything together.”
As they waited for the device to boot, Zane parted the curtains and looked out at the Piazza Giuseppe Garibaldi. The hour was late, and activity in the plaza had slowed considerably. A boisterous group of tourists spilled out of a restaurant to the left. On the opposite side of the square, several couples strolled along the shore of Lake Como.