‘I won’t need it. Put yourself in Ubrino’s position. He doesn’t know we’re unarmed. He’s more likely to try and slip out of the back than engage in a firefight.’
‘Or use the vial to effect an escape,’ Sabrina said.
‘In which case the two of you will be lying in wait for him,’ Stressner said. ‘You need the guns, not us.’
Graham trained the binoculars on the chalet again. Curtains drawn, overnight snow packed against the foot of the front door and the absence of any ski tracks in front of the chalet gave it an eerie, deserted appearance. He focused the binoculars on the chimney. A steady stream of smoke filtered up into the blue sky. He wondered if Ubrino had left the chalet since he got there on Monday. Why bother?
‘How do we get round to the back of the chalet without being seen?’ Sabrina asked.
‘I’ll let Marcel explain. He’s the expert.’
‘My English not good,’ Lacombe said to her. ‘I explain better in French. You speak French?’
She nodded, then listened attentively as he told her the best route for them to take to come up behind the chalet unnoticed.
‘You have radios?’ Stressner asked.
Graham tapped one of the pockets in his overall. ‘Kuhlmann got them for us. He had them pre-set to your frequency.’
Stressner looked at his watch. ‘It should take you ten minutes at the most to get yourselves into position. Call me when you’re ready. Then we can move in.’
Graham nodded, then followed Sabrina back through the trees, into the gulley, and out to the slope where they had deplaned. They traversed the face of the slope, crossing it without losing any height, then skied down a couloir, a steep, narrow descent, and emerged on to a flat stretch of the mountain. She stopped and pointed to the sixty-foot ridge on their right. The chalet was directly behind it. They pulled the hoods over their heads to give them added concealment in the snow then made their way slowly up the ridge, crawling the last five feet to the top.
‘Look, ski tracks leading from the door,’ she whispered.
‘Yeah,’ he muttered, his eyes screwed up behind his sunglasses as he stared at the single upstairs window facing out on to the ridge. The curtains were drawn.
‘Call Stressner, tell him we’re in position.’
Graham inched his way backwards until he was out of sight of the chalet, then took the two-way radio from his pocket and called Stressner. He replaced the radio in his pocket when he had finished and gave Sabrina a thumbs-up sign.
‘They’re going in. I’ll move further down the ridge. If Ubrino does try to make a break for it I’ll be in a better position to cut him off. You stay here…’ He trailed off, hearing the sound of a helicopter in the distance.
‘What the hell’s Paluzzi playing at? I told him I’d radio if we needed assistance.’
‘He must have picked up your conversation with Stressner and thought it was meant for him. Get him on the radio, tell him to pull out.’
Graham took the radio from his pocket again.
‘Yankee to Leatherhead, come in. Over.’
There was a pause then the crackled reply: ‘Leatherhead to Yankee, I read you. Over.’
‘What the hell are you doing?’ Graham hissed angrily. ‘I haven’t given the order to move in. Return to base and await further instructions. I repeat, return to base. Over.’
Another pause.
‘Leatherhead to Yankee, message unclear. I am at base. Repeat, I am at base. Over.’
Graham was about to speak when the helicopter came into view. It was the white Gazelle Tommaso Francia had used on Corfu. Graham scrambled to the top of the ridge. He had to warn Stressner and Lacombe.
They were already clear of the trees. Stressner swung round to face the helicopter as it dived towards them. Tommaso Francia opened fire. Both men were hit by a hail of bullets and the helicopter immediately banked sharply, skimming over the chalet and passing within ten feet of the ridge where Graham and Sabrina lay motionless in the snow.
‘Leatherhead to Yankee, I heard gunfire. Are you all right? Do you need assistance? Over.’
Sabrina picked the radio out of the snow.
‘Sister to Leatherhead, we’ve come under fire from the Francias’ helicopter. Stressner and Lacombe have been hit. Need assistance. Repeat, need assistance. Over.’
‘Message understood. Am on my way. Over and out.’
Graham was the first on to his feet.
‘We’ve got to take cover before it comes back. The chalet’s our only chance.’
They approached the chalet cautiously and took up positions on either side of the back door. They took the Berettas from their pockets and Graham indicated for Sabrina to go around the side of the chalet. She nodded then moved apprehensively towards the end of the wall, the Beretta held barrel upwards inches away from her face. Once there she paused to wipe the sweat from her forehead. She glanced over her shoulder but Graham had already disappeared around the other side of the chalet. She swivelled round, Beretta held at arm’s length. Nothing. She could see Stressner’s body from where she stood. He lay on his back, his white overall saturated with blood. Then she heard the sound of the helicopter’s engine behind her. She turned to see the Gazelle rise into view from behind the ridge. She flung herself into the snow a split second before a row of bullets peppered the side of the chalet where she had been standing. The helicopter swivelled fractionally as if on an invisible axis until the 30 mm cannons were aimed at her. She tried desperately to get to her feet. She knew she wouldn’t make it before the guns opened fire.
The Westland Scout seemed to appear from nowhere. It shot across the front of the Gazelle and Tommaso Francia recoiled in horror, unconsciously jerking his hands off the controls. The Gazelle bucked sharply and went out of control. It plummeted towards the chalet. He managed to regain control of it at the last moment and it missed the roof by a matter of inches. One of the pads struck the chimney and Sabrina had to scramble out of the way as bricks and mortar rained down into the snow. The Gazelle levelled out and disappeared over the pine trees in pursuit of the Westland Scout.
‘You okay?’ Graham asked behind her.
She nodded, then removed her sunglasses and wiped her sleeve across her forehead.
‘Now’s our chance to get Ubrino, with the helicopter out of the way.’
‘You take the back, I’ll take the front.’
He moved round to the front of the chalet and ducked as he passed a window, even though earlier the curtains had been drawn, only straightening up again when he was clear of it. He undipped his skis then pressed himself against the wall and reached out slowly for the door handle. His gloved fingers curled around it and he pushed it down.
The door was unlocked. He opened the door and took up a firing stance, Beretta extended, legs bent and apart. He found himself looking down a dimly lit hallway. He stepped inside and his eyes instinctively moved towards the wooden stairs to his right. Was Ubrino at the top, waiting to pick him off the moment he tried to climb them? Or was he hiding in one of the rooms leading off from the hall?
He noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye and spun round to face the open door, the Beretta held at arm’s length. Nothing moved. A sprinkling of snow landed in front of the door. That was what he had seen. More snow fell to the ground. It couldn’t be thawing, the chalet was enveloped in shade. That meant something else was dislodging the snow. Or someone else. Ubrino. He waded out into knee-deep snow and as he looked up at the sloping roof Ubrino propelled himself away from the open skylight window. Graham raised his Beretta to fire. Ubrino launched himself off the edge of the roof and caught Graham’s wrist with the edge of his ski, knocking the gun from his hand.
He landed awkwardly and skidded sideways into the snow. He managed to get to his feet before Graham felled him with a bruising football tackle. Ubrino lashed out with his ski pole, catching Graham painfully on the shoulder. He lashed out again with the ski pole, this time hitting Graham in the face. The basket at the end of the pole ripped open the stitches in the side of Graham’s face, spurting blood across the snow. Graham cried out in pain and stumbled backwards, his hand covering the wound as blood streamed down the side of his face. Ubrino scrambled to his feet and set off down the slope.