What was going on? Were they waiting for him on the helipad? How would they know where he was headed? He pressed himself against the wall and pushed open the door leading out on to the helipad. No gunfire.
‘Michael?’ a voice called out from the helipad.
Graham recognized Kolchinsky’s voice. He was also the only person he knew who called him Michael.
‘Michael, is that you?’ Kolchinsky called out again.
Graham wiped the sweat from his forehead and stepped out on to the helipad. Vlok stood beside Kolchinsky and Marco, a two-way radio in his hand.
‘We thought you two might use the main entrance to save time,’ Kolchinsky said.
‘So when we heard that two maintenance workers were headed for the stairs we put two and two together and Dieter gave instructions to the guards to give you free passage to the helipad.’
‘You sure know how to spoil a guy’s fun, Sergei,’ Graham said with a half-smile.
Kolchinsky checked his watch. ‘You did it with four minutes to spare. You could have taken the lift after all. It would have been far less strenuous.’
Graham smiled as Kolchinsky crossed to the telephone to break the news to Philpott.
‘Wouldn’t you like to join us?’ Calvieri said to Sabrina and indicated the third chair in front of the television set.
‘The air’s a lot cleaner where I am,’ Sabrina retorted sharply.
‘Humour, even in defeat. I admire you for that.’ Calvieri sat down and rubbed his hands together. ‘I’ve been waiting for this moment ever since the PCI came to power two years ago. The public humiliation of Enzo Bellini.’
‘It’s five o’clock,’ Ubrino said, glancing at his watch. ‘He should be arriving any moment now.’
Calvieri nodded.
‘All that’s missing is a cigarette. I would die for one.’
‘Me too,’ Ubrino muttered, and helped himself to another peppermint from the packet he had taken from the drawer.
They watched the screen as the Swiss President emerged through a side door and crossed to a table where he sat down and surveyed the dozens of journalists seated in front of him. Cameras flashed incessantly. A journalist shouted out a question but the Swiss President immediately raised a hand for silence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming here tonight,’ the President said in English. ‘I called this press conference to deal with the rumours that the Italian Prime Minister, Signore Enzo Bellini, is to step down through ill-health. It is true that he was taken ill this morning, which is when the rumours began, but I am glad to report that it is nothing more serious than influenza. I have just seen Signore Bellini and he has asked me to assure you that he will not be standing down, either today or at any time in the foreseeable future…’
‘What are you talking about?’ Calvieri shouted at the screen. He rubbed the back of his hand nervously across his mouth. ‘It’s part of the deal. Bellini must resign.’
The telephone rang.
Calvieri knocked over his chair in his haste to answer it.
‘I thought you’d like to see the start of the press conference before I called you,’ Philpott said.
‘What are you playing at, Philpott?’ Calvieri snarled, his breathing ragged. ‘I told you what would happen if either of my demands weren’t met. You’ve just made a very big mistake–’
‘We’ve found the vial.’
Calvieri’s eyes narrowed with uncertainty.
‘Where?’
‘In the workshop.’
Calvieri burst out laughing, such was his relief.
‘But we expected a red herring,’ Philpott continued. ‘That’s why we carried on with the search even after it had been found. Miss Rietler was very helpful when it came to finding the real vial. Or should I call her Miss Dannhauser? After all, that was the name in the address book we found under the floorboards in your flat.’
Calvieri’s face went pale. He fumbled for a chair and sat down slowly.
‘The lab results came through fifteen minutes ago,’ Philpott said, knowing he had to call Calvieri’s bluff. It was too late to turn back, even if he was wrong. And God help him if he were. ‘Our scientists have identified the compound as the virus. They didn’t attempt to defuse the magnetic charge on the side of the metal cylinder, just in case you’d booby-trapped it. The vial’s been removed from the cylinder for further tests. It’s quite harmless now.’
Calvieri wiped the sweat out of his eyes.
‘It’s not over yet, Colonel. We still have one ace left to play. Sabrina. She’s our ticket out of here. And don’t underestimate us, we don’t have anything left to lose. Not any more.’
‘If anything happens to Sabrina–’
‘It won’t, as long as you do as we say. I’ll call you back when we’ve decided on a plan of action. And don’t try anything stupid like storming the room. You wouldn’t want to have Sabrina’s death on your conscience, would you?’ Calvieri replaced the receiver and rubbed his hands over his face. He was devastated. He looked up at Ubrino.
‘They found out about Helga.’
‘How?’ Ubrino replied. ‘You said there was no way they could trace her.’
‘I know what I said,’ Calvieri snapped, raking his fingers through his hair. ‘They found her name and number in an old address book under the floorboards in my flat. I don’t remember putting it there. I thought I’d destroyed all my links with her. God, what have I done?’
‘It’s all collapsing around you and there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it,’ Sabrina said with a satisfied smile. ‘You might as well give up now, Tony, you know you’re finished. Nobody likes a failure, not even the Red Brigades.’
‘Stazitta!’ Ubrino shouted, pulling the Beretta from his belt.
‘Leave her,’ Calvieri hissed and pushed the barrel of the gun towards the carpet. ‘We need her in order to get out of here.’
‘They could be stalling for time.’
Calvieri shook his head. ‘Then they would have postponed the press conference. No, they don’t intend to give in to our demands. That much is obvious.’
‘Then press the button.’
Calvieri took the transmitter from his pocket and stared at it in the palm of his hand.
‘The vial’s already been removed for analysis. What’s the use of blowing up an empty metal cylinder?’
‘You only have their word for it. What if they’re calling your bluff? Press the button. We have nothing left to lose. Press it.’
‘No!’ Calvieri yelled, his eyes blazing. ‘You’ve been working with Zocchi for too long. Even if the vial is still inside the metal cylinder, what can we hope to achieve by killing millions of innocent people? Nothing. Absolutely nothing.’
Ubrino looked at Sabrina.
‘She was right. You never intended to push it, did you?’
‘Never,’ Calvieri replied defiantly. ‘But they didn’t know that. If they had they wouldn’t have agreed to our demands in the first place. It was psychological pressure. Can’t you see that?’
‘I believed in you, Tony. And this is how you repay my trust.’ Ubrino levelled the Beretta at Calvieri. ‘Give me the transmitter.’
‘You’ll have to kill me first,’ Calvieri said in a challenging voice. ‘And you can’t do that, can you? You need me to get you out of here. You don’t have the brains to do it by yourself.’
Ubrino thought for a few moments, then shoved the Beretta back into his belt.
‘When this is over…’
‘Then you’ll kill me, sure,’ Calvieri replied with an indifferent shrug, reaching for the telephone to call Philpott.
‘What did he say, sir?’ Whitlock asked after Philpott had replaced the receiver.
‘He wants a helicopter ready in twenty minutes to fly them out. They’re taking Sabrina as a hostage.’ Philpott turned to Paluzzi. ‘I want you and your men to clear the helipad. Only our helicopter must be there.’ He gestured to Vlok. ‘Dieter, I want you to go with them to make sure it all runs smoothly.’