Graham saw the punch coming but his left arm refused to respond when he tried to raise it to defend himself.
Then nothing.
The sharp rapping on the door brought Sabrina out of her deep sleep.
‘Si?’ she asked, slipping her hand around the Beretta under the pillow.
‘Buon giorno. Caffè?’ the assistant conductor asked through the locked compartment door.
‘No, grazie.’ She glanced at her bare wrist then remembered her watch had been confiscated in Fribourg. ‘Che ore sono?’
There was a pause before he answered. ‘Le otto e un quarto.’
‘8.15? Oh God!’ she hissed under her breath. ‘Grazie,’ she called out, then scrambled off the couchette and opened the communicating door.
The adjoining compartment was empty.
‘Thanks for waking me, you guys,’ she muttered angrily, her hands on her hips.
After a cursory wash she donned the habit and wimple, slipping the Beretta into her pocket.
She went directly to the dining car, pausing in the doorway to look around. Her luck was in.
Werner, Hendrique and Kyle were having breakfast, and judging by the food still on their plates they would be there for some time to come. It was the perfect opportunity for her to search their compartments, especially Werner’s. He might be the kingpin but he was also the weak link. Hendrique and Kyle were seasoned criminals; Werner was a businessman. She knew if there were any clues to be found, his compartment would be the place to find them.
First she returned briefly to her own berth to fetch the keys Kolchinsky had taken from the dead conductor.
Her instincts had been right: both compartment doors were locked. Knowing she had only a limited amount of time she decided to go through Werner’s compartment first. The corridor was deserted. Quickly she unlocked the door and went in, fastening it again behind her. There were two pieces of luggage on the overhead rack, a small beige suitcase and an attaché case manacled to the steel pipe against the wall. She climbed on to the couchette and turned the attaché case round to face her. It had a combination lock. She knew the odds against her cracking the combination, even if she had all day, but having learnt never to discount the obvious she tried the locks anyway. They opened. Her astonishment turned immediately to suspicion. Even a harmless businessman would scramble the combination before leaving his case unattended. It had to be a trap. She took a nailfile from her pocket and traced it along the seam, checking for wires. There was none. She looked around the compartment for something with which to lever open the lid. All she could see was a newspaper so she rolled it up and stood to one side, holding it at arm’s length as she lifted the lid up several inches. Nothing happened. She exhaled deeply. Discarding the newspaper she opened the lid. A silver box and a miniature console were the case’s sole contents. Just as she was going to try to lift out the box she heard a key being inserted into the lock of the compartment door. She jumped off the couchette and pulled out her Beretta, aiming it at the doorway.
The door slid back and Werner froze, momentarily taken aback by the sight of an armed nun. He smiled a second later, recognizing her, and took a hesitant step into the compartment, his arms raised. Kyle followed him in but his arms remained at his side.
‘Close the door and lock it,’ she commanded.
‘Do as she says,’ Werner said without taking his eyes off the Beretta pointing at his chest.
Kyle locked the door.
Her eyes flickered towards the communicating door. ‘If Hendrique tries to burst through there you’ll be the first to die.’
‘He has no intention of bursting in, my dear. You might be interested to know what he is doing in there, though. May I?’ Werner indicated the door with one of his raised hands.
‘Don’t move!’
‘Of course, only I thought you’d want to see your partner. Hendrique has orders to kill Graham if he hasn’t heard from us in two minutes.’ Werner glanced at his wristwatch. ‘A minute’s nearly up. Call my bluff if you want but Graham’s death will be on your conscience for the rest of your life.’
‘You open the door,’ she said to Kyle without taking her eyes off Werner.
Kyle drew back the bolt then tapped four times on the door. It was unlocked from the other side and Kyle opened it to reveal Graham bound and gagged on the couchette opposite the door, and Hendrique standing over him holding a Franchi SPAS shotgun inches from his chest.
‘What have you done to him?’ she asked anxiously.
‘A drug-induced sleep, that’s all,’ Werner said. ‘He was very aggressive, even with handcuffs on. You have thirty seconds to throw down your gun. Hendrique’s very punctual, especially when it comes to killing.’
Hendrique’s hooded eyes were challenging, his lips curled in a contemptuous sneer.
Her determination wavered. If she surrendered her gun she would be breaching one of UNACO’s fundamental principles, giving in to the demands of known criminals. And Graham had sacrificed his family to thwart a wave of terrorist bombings. She knew exactly what he would want her to do. Shooting Hendrique would be easy. But at what price if he killed Graham in return? As Werner had said, she would have to live with the decision for the rest of her life.
‘Twenty seconds.’
She pushed Werner aside and levelled the Beretta at Hendrique’s head. His response was to press the shotgun into Graham’s chest.
Kyle stepped forward to disarm her.
‘Leave her!’ Hendrique snarled. ‘We’ll settle this my way.’
Kyle backed off.
She looked at Graham, his head lolling on his chest, and tightened her grip on the Beretta.
‘Ten seconds.’
She swallowed nervously, her eyes riveted on Hendrique’s face.
‘Seven seconds,’
Her finger tightened on the trigger and Hendrique smiled faintly to himself.
‘Four seconds. Three, two, one–’
She let the Beretta drop from her hand. Kyle scooped it up and trained it on her back.
Hendrique traced the shotgun down Graham’s chest then pressed it into his stomach.
‘I’ve conceded, what more do you want?’
‘So you have,’ Hendrique replied and squeezed the trigger.
Click.
‘I learn so much about a person’s character by calling their bluff. It also makes the contest that little bit more interesting.’
‘You jeopardized–’
‘I jeopardized nothing.’ Hendrique cut across Werner’s outburst. ‘I knew she’d back down. There’s a touching loyalty amongst undercover agents, especially between partners.’
‘You want me to tie her up?’ Kyle asked.
‘Give me the gun first,’ Hendrique replied.
Sabrina chose her moment perfectly and brought her foot up into Kyle’s midriff just as he extended the Beretta towards Hendrique. She pivoted round to face Hendrique but found herself staring down the barrel of his Desert Eagle automatic.
‘It’s a question of speed. Can you get to it before I pull the trigger?’
‘If it’s loaded,’ she retorted, still holding the hem of her habit above her ankles.
‘You’re learning, but are you prepared to call my bluff again?’