John set the dynamite gently down on the ground, then motioned me closer. He was shaking his head.
"There's the first charge," John said. "My guess is that there's another one in the same spot on the other side of the building. We'll have to keep looking."
I glanced at my watch. "It's taking too much time. With some luck, Jandor should be back with the Italian authorities in another hour or so. When that happens, I don't want Fordamp to have the option of blowing the place up."
"There's no way to go any faster," John said. "I'm sorry." He didn't have to add that St. Francesco's Church was only one of dozens of potential targets, not including the three castles.
I pointed to the cannister. "That's the ignition device?"
John nodded. "Radio controlled. Fordamp must have the transmitter with him."
"He does. Is there any way we can jam the frequency?"
"We don't have the equipment."
"Can he set them off one at a time?"
John studied the cannister. "I doubt it. I'd say they're set to go off all at once."
It seemed to fit Fordamp's disposition. If he couldn't get what he wanted, he'd leave everything of value in San Marino in ruins.
"How do you disarm it?"
John reached down and unsnapped the cannister from a magnetic clamping device. It seemed simple enough.
"Is there enough there to blow up a castle?"
"Fordamp will have more there."
"Okay. I've got to go to the castles. I've got a friend in one of them."
"I'll go with you," John said, rising to his feet. "A man's life is the most important thing."
I heard a noise behind me and wheeled. Marshmallow Mouth and another one of Fordamp's men were standing a few feet away, their guns trained on us.
I decided I'd rather die running than propped up against a tree. I made a gesture of resignation, then made as if to toss the dynamite at them.
They reacted as I'd hoped, instinctively stepping backward and throwing their hands up to their faces. I grabbed the detonator away from John, then leaped to one side and sprinted toward the corner of the building. A gun barked three times and bullets ricocheted off the stone, peppering my face with sharp chunks of rock. But there was no cry of pain from behind me, which meant that at least John had had the good sense to stay put. I made it around the corner of the church and sprinted down an alley.
I had the dynamite and the detonator, but they made an unlikely weapon, one that I couldn't even control. Still, it was all I had. I tucked the dynamite under my arm, put the cannister in my pocket, then headed at a trot toward the castle where Phil and the regent were imprisoned. I had to make one last-ditch effort at getting them out.
A moment later I heard my name in English. It was amplified over a loudspeaker."
"Frederickson! It's all over now! Come here! We have your friends!"
The sound was coming from the direction of the circus grounds. A few San Marinese stopped and stared around, then moved on. Those who did understand English probably assumed that the words had something to do with circus business.
The message came at me again. More insistent.
I made my way across the town to the high ridge overlooking the field and crouched down in the tall grass. The scene below wasn't encouraging.
Fordamp, flanked by his bodyguards, was standing in the middle of the field. John Marinello had a gun pointed at his gut. Jandor was there, too, his hands tied behind his back. There wasn't going to be any last-minute cavalry charge; I was on my own, and things weren't looking up.
A few San Marinese, attracted by the loudspeaker, appeared on the ridge across from me. They were quickly shooed away by guilty-looking members of the San Marinese police force. Occasionally the men paused and cast glances at a well-dressed San Marinese whom I took to be Alberto Vaicona. Vaicona stood with his head bowed. The police kept dispersing the onlookers.
However, there were a few spectators who weren't so easily scattered. The circus people were coming out of their trailers and gathering in a knot at the western edge of the field. Big Nell was in their midst, moving around and whispering urgently. At a signal from Fordamp, the guards moved toward the circus people, guns drawn. Nell signaled and the circus people moved-but not away, and not in the direction Fordamp had intended; they began to quickly fan out. In a few moments Fordamp and the others were encircled.
Once again the police seemed uncertain of how to react; it was obvious where their sympathies lay, but it was even more obvious where the power lay. Fordamp, keeping an anxious eye on the circle, reached inside his vest and withdrew the transmitter. The device was about the size of a carton of cigarettes, with a red button in the center. Vaicona paled. The Regent walked quickly up to the policemen and spoke to them. Their guns rose.
I glanced over my shoulder at one of the three castles rising into the sky; all that stood between two men and eternity was one man's shaking hand. One push of that red button and the castle would come crumbling to the ground.
The valley below suddenly smelled of death; the tension was building to a peak. Sooner or later someone was going to make a move, and bullets would fly. The button would be pressed. Fordamp was betting everything he had on the one last card he held in his hand, and I couldn't afford to call.
I pulled a few strands of long grass out of the ground and twisted them into a rope of sorts. I replaced the detonator on the dynamite, then lashed the whole package to my belt, at my back, just beneath my shirt. Then, trying not to think of what would happen if Fordamp pushed the button, I stood up and immediately raised my hands in the air.
Even from that distance I could see Fordamp's satisfied grin. He put the transmitter back into his vest, then motioned for me to come down.
Dozens of eyes watched me as I worked my way down the slope. I moved through the circle and heard my name whispered. Big Nell was watching me with wet eyes; I smiled at her and pressed on through.
I moved toward Fordamp, who raised his hand in a signal for me to stop. I stopped. He whispered something to a seemingly indestructable Petrocelli who grinned through his smashed jaw and reached inside the sling on his arm to produce a gun. I had the distinct impression that my death warrant had been issued.
Petrocelli stepped forward, his eyes swimming with hate, and waved his gun toward a grove of trees behind him. It was time to make a move, any move.
I walked forward until I was abreast of Fordamp, then lunged sideways into the man. I locked my fingers around his belt with one hand and struggled to untie the dynamite from my belt with the other.
Fordamp gave me a startled look, then lifted me off the ground and shook me like a rag doll, trying to break my grip.
The ring of circus people was closing in, led by Nell. Petrocelli fired a shot into the air, and they stopped. All except Nell. She walked forward three more steps.
"You can't shoot us all!" Nell shouted at Petrocelli. Then she turned around to face the circle. "If we don't stop them, they're going to kill Mongo!"
Petrocelli got a shot off and Nell spun, grabbing her right shoulder, falling to the ground. Blood spurted from the wound, but she rolled over and started to get up. Petrocelli advanced on her, his gun pointed at her head. He froze when the guns of the San Marinese policemen swung on him.
Fordamp seemed to have forgotten that I was still clinging to his belt. He quickly reached into his vest and withdrew the transmitter again.