More whispers from the Italians as they reach out for their friend.
Jake nudged up to Elisa and whispered into her ear, “Get down on the ground and when I tell you to shoot, send two bullets flying.”
“All right.”
She did as she was told. Jake moved out into the main corridor slightly into a narrow stance and aimed toward the center so he could move his gun to either side quickly.
“Now,” Jake whispered.
Elisa shot twice.
Flashes came from two positions, so Jake had to choose one and fire three times, his only indication of his target coming with his own muzzle flashes. Just as he saw a man drop, he dove to his right. The two of them lay next to each other, their heavy breathing in synch.
“Are you just trying to get closer to me?” Elisa asked him.
Jake’s ears were ringing now, so he guessed hers would be as well. One of the men screamed in pain out in the corridor. “Maybe a little,” he said. “Hey, tell them if they leave now we’ll let them live.”
“Are you trying to taunt them?”
“It might work. They have two down. I’m guessing they’re just guns for hire. Tell them there’s no profit from dying.”
She did what he said, her voice echoing off the limestone walls.
Jake had a feeling the only thing these guys would object to is being told what to do by a woman.
The response was easy for Jake to interpret. They called her a fucking bitch, and they’d rape her in every hole just before they killed her.
“Now that was uncalled for,” Jake said aloud in English. He turned on the light on his watch and decided they needed to make a move or the Greeks would be too far ahead of them, even though he had a feeling he knew where they would take Sara. “Listen,” he whispered to Elisa, “I’ve gotta do something on my own here. It’s the only play we have here.”
“No. We can wait them out,” she pled.
“They’ve got us trapped without lights, without water, without food. They could hold us off with just one guy for days, changing the sentry every four hours. That’s what I would do. Now I’m guessing they either killed the man who let us in here or they have some pull with him to keep his mouth shut. Maybe they just threatened his family. That’s the Mafia way in Sicily, as I’m sure you know. But we have one advantage. If we can’t see, then they can’t see. I’ve been down that corridor and know what it looks like.” This was only partially true. Just before the lights went out, he remembered that the corridor angled to the right up ahead. He explained his plan to her very carefully. It would require shooting discipline and patience.
She protested, “I don’t know, Jake. Is this the only way?”
“Yes. Check your watch.”
Elisa turned on the light on her watch.
“Exactly two minutes from right now.”
Jake got to his feet and quietly slipped out into the dark corridor, moving to the far left edge and barely touching the wall with his left hand. Then he moved forward as if he was back in the mountains of Montana trying to sneak up on a bull elk through the noisy aspens. But this was much easier, since the ground was soft stone and wet sand. He tried to tick off the seconds in his mind and then raised his gun as the two minutes got closer.
Suddenly the sound of gunfire behind him was followed by the flashes from Elisa’s barrel. Then two flashes came from the Italians ahead and Jake started running and shooting simultaneously at those figures.
More shots from Elisa.
Jake was now upon them and his gun stuck back, out of bullets. He dove at the first man, hitting him right across his chest and knocking him back against the wall and losing his gun at the same time. Rolling to his side, the two of them struggled for the Italian’s gun. Jake smashed the man with his elbow into his jaw.
As Jake heard the other Italian yelling a few feet away, he rolled the man onto him just as the bullets flew from the man’s gun.
Then from closer behind him, Elisa shot twice and the man dropped a few feet away.
She got to Jake and said, “Are you all right?” Then she turned on her pen light and scanned the corridor. Three men lay variously about the dirt floor, their guns next to their bodies.
Shoving the dead man off of him, Jake said, “Collect their guns and extra magazines. I think we might need them.” He tried to get to his feet but felt a sharp pain in his stomach at the right side, buckling him back to his knees.
“I can’t believe we just had a gun fight with four men from the Mafia and came out without a scratch,” Elisa said as she got their guns. She turned the light back on Jake and gasped when she saw him on his knees. Rushing to him she said, “Jake, are you hit?”
He held his hand over the wet spot on his right side and said, “I think so. But the bullet was slowed by the other man’s body. I don’t know if the bullet went through and through. Can you check my back?”
Elisa shone her light on him and let out a quiet yelp. “Yes, you’re bleeding there also.” She put her hand onto the exit wound. “We have to get you to the hospital.”
“No, no, no. There was a first aid kit in the Fiat trunk. I saw it when we put our bags back there. Just patch me up.”
“You need a doctor,” she said. “The bleeding won’t stop.”
“Listen, you saw the scars on my body last night,” he reasoned. “I know a bad shot and a good shot. This one isn’t that bad. It missed all major organs, including my kidney. It’s just all muscle tissue there.”
“And blood vessels.”
“Hey, I’m doing much better than those four. Now help me up. We’ve gotta get going if we plan on getting Sara back.”
Exasperated, Elisa did as Jake said, helping him up and out to the entrance. When they got there, the weather had changed from a calm, warm morning, to a torrential downpour. Somehow Jake expected to find a back-up crew of Mafia waiting for them there. But the small parking lot outside the old church contained only three cars, the one Jake had taken the night before, the one the Italians had escaped in after the shooting at the pension, and he assumed the third car was from the other two Italians.
Since they had not gotten the keys from the dead men, they would have to take the Fiat. Elisa put Jake into the back seat of the car and got the first aid kit from the trunk. In short order she had both sides of him patched up, first using butterfly-strips and glue, and covering that with four-inch trauma bandages. Then to keep both patches from falling off, she ran gauze and tape around Jake’s stomach a number of times. She took the rest of the spare bandages and shoved them into her bag.
“So,” Jake said, getting out of the car into the rain. “I guess you should drive.”
She laughed as she opened the front door. “I think so. But to where?”
Jake found his way around to the front passenger side and sat down with some discomfort. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just get us out of the city for now. My blood will be all over the place. I hate leaving my DNA everywhere, so we’ll have to get rid of this car eventually.”
“Where would they take Sara?” she said desperately.
“Directly to Petros Caras. Find him and we find Sara. Let’s go.”
Elisa cranked over the car and found the fastest way out of the city of Siracusa, Jake hoping like hell the Polizia had pulled back their road blocks.
20
Senator James Halsey had just gotten back to his home state on a private jet and was picked up at Hobby Airport by his close friend, lawyer and advisor, Brock Winthrop. They were driving now in a black Ford Expedition from the airport to the hospital where Jim’s father was taking a turn for the worse, the lawyer behind the wheel.