Jake looked to where Toni was positioned. He couldn't see her. The darkness was complete. He picked up a small ash tray from a table next to the chair and flung it across the room. Flashes came from the kitchen, followed by Toni firing three times.
As they fired, Jake crawled across toward where he had shot the first guy. He slithered around the outside of the large sofa. He listened for breathing. Nothing.
Then Toni shot twice. With the light from the flashing Uzi, Jake peeked around the sofa. The man he shot lay face up just two feet from him. Jake reached his hand around the corner of the sofa and felt the man's neck. Nothing. Lifeless. His neck was still warm, but no pulse. Then he felt a moist, stickiness that had to be blood. He slid his hand up to the man's face. His nose was nearly gone. Jake quickly pulled his hand away and wiped it on the carpet. A shiver came over him. Control Jake. Control.
Jake scooted forward far enough for his gun to clear the edge of the sofa.
"Your friends are dead, give it up." More flashes came from the kitchen. Jake could feel the sofa taking hits, and the wall next to the door near Toni.
Jake and Toni fired a salvo. And then the louder sound of Kurt's 45 auto. Jake moved out farther from behind the sofa and opened fire through the thin kitchen wall until his gun was empty. Quickly, he popped in his last clip. But the flashes ended.
Then silence. The smell of gun powder filled the air. And the hard, cold iron smell of blood from the man next to Jake.
"Toni?"
"Yeah?"
"Hit the lights."
Finally, the overhead light lit the room. Jake looked over to the door. Toni was crouched on one side and Kurt on the other.
Toni pointed toward the kitchen. "I can see his feet on the floor."
Jake got up and charged toward the kitchen. The man lay face down in a pool of blood. "All clear."
Toni and Kurt drifted slowly into the room. Jake watched as Kurt winced when he saw the man with no nose. In the light, Jake could see that the back of the man's head had been shattered and splintered and was stuck to the wall about six feet behind the sofa.
The last to die was riddled with at least five bullets. It was hard to tell through all the blood.
Jake turned the man over. He had a strong jaw and pock marked face. Even lifeless he looked mean.
Toni moved over closer and crouched down for a better look. "I know him. Well, I don't know him, but I've had a few run-ins with him and his buddies over the years. I nailed a few of his friends about two years ago."
"I remember," Jake said. "I was in England for a few months at the time."
Toni nodded.
Kurt came and stood near the entrance to the kitchen. "I could use a beer," he said. "By the way, I got the guy on the first floor. But one of them got away."
"There were only two," Jake said, moving out of the kitchen and across the living room.
Toni and Kurt followed Jake down the stairs to the first floor. A man lay crumpled at the midway point between the second and first floors.
On the first floor, Jake crouched down to the hard wood floor and pointed to a small spot of blood. "There! I thought I hit one," Jake said, with the eagerness of a hunter on the trail of a wounded animal.
Polizia sirens alternated in higher and lower tones off in the distance. Jake cocked his head. He checked his watch. Time had stood still for less than ten minutes as the Hungarians chose their destiny, Jake thought.
Toni squeezed Jake's shoulder. "You've got to get out of here. Now!"
Jake knew that it would be hard to explain his presence. Toni had a diplomatic passport, and Kurt his military identification. They could convince the authorities of nearly anything. And Toni had many friends. But his story would sound much too contrived. He had to leave. He rose and started to open the door. He hesitated.
"Go! I'll explain everything." Toni said. Her eyes sparkled as if tears had started to form.
"I'll let you know how things go in Germany," Jake said. He flung the door open and swiftly ran toward his car.
The sirens were getting closer. Jake cranked over the engine, made a U-turn, and sped away. He wound through back streets for a few kilometers and then entered the Autostrada and headed north toward Germany. He'd have to drive through the night to make it there by morning.
CHAPTER 35
Isaac Lebovitz opened the heavy wooden door to the large cabin and ushered in two men with a gust of cold rain. He slammed the door hard and turned to view his guests. One had a bandage around his left shoulder. Blood was escaping regardless of the futile effort. The other, Jason Dalton, slipped his coat off and shook the rain from it.
"A few more degrees, Jason, and we'd have snow instead of that blasted freezing rain." Isaac said, moving closer to the two men. "Would you like a shot of schnapps?"
They both nodded their heads. Isaac sat down at the large wooden table and poured three shots of clear schnapps. Isaac knew there was no cause for celebration. No time to waste. But he also knew that sometimes it was easier to get information, the right information, with a comfortable glass of schnapps.
All three quickly tilted their heads and downed the contents of the small glasses.
"Ah! Now, what do you have for me gentlemen?" Isaac asked.
The man with the bandage appeared to be in a great deal of pain. His eyes would close from time to time, and he grimaced when he moved wrong.
Dalton looked at the injured man and then back to Isaac. "We've got a little problem."
"We wouldn't be here if that weren't the case," Isaac said. "I heard through some of my sources that there was a terrorist attack in Rome yesterday. Even the news had something to say about three dead Hungarians and a whole lot of bullets shooting up a nice neighborhood. What happened?" Isaac eyed the injured man.
"We had the CIA agents cold," the man said with a weak, raspy voice. "Then this other guy showed up out of nowhere."
"Who? Did you get a good look at him?" Isaac inquired.
"Dark hair, mustache, medium height, athletic walk. He was an American. At first I thought he might have been Italian."
"How do you know?"
"The girl, Toni, called out his name. Jake," the man said. He coughed a few times. "He answered back in English."
Isaac thought for a moment. "Shit!" He poured another round of schnapps and didn't hesitate to be the first to drink. "Why in the hell does this have to happen to me?"
Dalton and the wounded man looked confused.
"The man, Jake? That's Jake Adams. He was CIA, but I heard he left the agency about a year ago. Did he shoot you?" Isaac asked, pointing at the wounded man.
"Yes."
"Then you are truly a lucky son of a bitch," Isaac said. "You should be dead now. Jake Adams doesn't miss much."
Isaac went to the door and yelled to his driver. In a few seconds, the wounded man was escorted out of the cabin.
"He'll bring him to a doctor in Budapest," Isaac explained to Dalton. Deep down he knew the man wouldn't make the trip alive.
Dalton shot down his glass of schnapps and set his glass on the heavy table gently. "We have another problem. My man on the USS Roosevelt is missing. As you know, he was supposed to deliver our last bit of information on the computer chips."
"Missing?" Isaac asked, clenching his fists. "How could he be missing?"
"I don't know for sure," Dalton said. "I got word from diplomatic sources that there was a little trouble aboard the carrier. Maybe even a shooting. These are mostly rumors that I didn't have time to check into. All I know is my man didn't show as planned."
"Probably Jake Adams," Isaac said. "Now we'll have to depend totally on Carlson in Germany."
Dalton's eye brows rose sharply. "Carlson? Why?"
Isaac tapped the side of his head. "I guess you have a right to know. Maybe you could even help me out. His name is Steve Carlson. He works for the company you were getting the computer technology from. Do you know him?"