Vlok agreed, then hurried out with Paluzzi and his men.
‘Sergei, I want you and Mike to check the fifth floor. There shouldn’t be anybody there, but it’s best to be sure.’
Kolchinsky and Graham left the room.
Philpott turned to Kuhlmann.
‘Reinhardt, I want you to commandeer one of the lifts then put a guard on each floor to make sure that Calvieri and Ubrino have safe passage to the helipad.’
‘I’ll see to it,’ Kuhlmann said and went immediately to carry out the instruction.
‘Which leaves me,’ Whitlock said suspiciously. ‘What do you want me to do?’
‘Ever wanted to become a helicopter pilot?’
The telephone rang. Calvieri answered it.
‘You’re three minutes late.’
‘You made the conditions, not me,’ Philpott replied.
‘Is the helicopter ready?’
‘It’s ready.’
‘And the lift?’
‘It’s been stopped on the fifth floor, as requested.’
‘You make any move against us–’
‘You’ll kill Sabrina, you told me that before,’ Philpott cut in.
‘As long as we understand each other. She’ll be released, unharmed, once we reach our final destination. I’ll call you at the hotel tomorrow morning to tell you where to find her. Until then, ciao.’ Calvieri replaced the receiver and turned to Ubrino. ‘Bring her.’
‘Why don’t you bring her?’ Ubrino retorted.
‘Why don’t I just bring myself?’ Sabrina said, getting to her feet.
Ubrino grabbed her arm and pressed the Beretta against the side of her neck. Calvieri unlocked the door and eased it open. He then took hold of Sabrina’s other arm and they led her out into the deserted corridor.
All the doors were closed. The lift stood open at the end of the corridor. The silence was eerie. Ubrino dug his fingers into Sabrina’s arm and guided her towards the lift. Calvieri kept his eyes on the doors behind them, his Beretta at the ready. Not that he thought Philpott would try anything. There was a touching loyalty amongst his kind. A loyalty that was foreign to someone like Calvieri. His loyalty lay with the cause, not with its protagonists. He glanced at Ubrino.
Zocchi’s militancy had obviously rubbed off on him over the past few years. Ubrino had suddenly become a dangerous liability. He would kill him the moment they were airborne. He couldn’t afford to take any chances. But for the moment he needed Ubrino. Just as Ubrino needed him. A temporary bond was all that remained of a once close friendship.
Ubrino led Sabrina into the lift, the Beretta still pressed firmly against the side of her neck. Calvieri backed into the lift after them and closed the doors.
Whitlock sat behind the controls of the Lynx helicopter, Emile’s peaked cap tugged over his head. He looked across at the lift doors. Where were they?
He thought about the briefing in Vlok’s office. Philpott’s instructions had been simple. Rescue Sabrina, unharmed. It meant he would have to kill at least one of them. Perhaps both. Ubrino was certainly the more dangerous of the two. A psychotic killer. Calvieri was less of a threat. Although he was always armed, he had never been known to use his gun. He left the killings to his Brigatisti. Whitlock touched the Browning in his belt and looked slowly around the deserted helipad. The landing lights were on as the darkness descended across Berne. He shivered in the light wind which had sprung up in the last hour and absently adjusted his cap as he turned his attention back to the lift doors. Where were they?
The doors suddenly parted and Calvieri stepped out tentatively on to the helipad. He looked around slowly, then indicated for Ubrino to follow him. Ubrino emerged on to the helipad, Sabrina held tightly against him. Whitlock bit his lip anxiously. It was going to be a difficult shot. A mistake could cost Sabrina her life. That seemed to give him renewed confidence in himself.
Calvieri pointed to the rotors and turned his finger round in the air, indicating that he wanted Whitlock to start the engine. Whitlock remembered what Emile had shown him and pressed the starter switch. They were now less than ten yards away from the helicopter. He palmed the Browning from his belt. His hands were sweating. Calvieri reached the open door first and peered into the cabin. Satisfied it was empty, he clambered inside. Ubrino led Sabrina to the door and Calvieri grabbed her arm to help her up. Ubrino glanced around furtively, then gripped the door but as he pulled himself up Sabrina lashed out with her foot, catching him on the side of the head. He fell heavily on to the helipad, the Beretta spinning from his hand. Whitlock instinctively swung his Browning on Calvieri, then noticed out of the corner of his eye that Ubrino had got to his feet and was making for his fallen Beretta. For a split second Whitlock was caught in a dilemma. Then Sabrina shoulder-charged Calvieri, slamming him against the cabin wall. He grunted in pain and the Beretta slipped from his grasp. Whitlock kicked open the passenger door and shot Ubrino as he was aiming the Beretta at Sabrina’s back. The bullet struck Ubrino in the head and he was dead before he hit the ground. Whitlock turned the Browning on Calvieri, giving Sabrina the chance to kick the Beretta out on to the helipad.
Graham and Paluzzi, alerted by the gunshot, emerged from behind a door leading on to the stairs and ran across to the helicopter. Philpott, Kolchinsky and Kuhlmann appeared behind them. Graham retrieved the two Berettas, then ordered Calvieri out of the helicopter. Calvieri jumped on to the helipad and slowly raised his hands above his head. Paluzzi frisked him and pocketed the transmitter. He found the key for Sabrina’s handcuffs and unlocked them before helping her out of the helicopter. She took one of the Berettas from Graham and pushed it into her shoulder holster.
Whitlock cut the engine, then got out of the cockpit and looked across at Sabrina. ‘Are you all right?’
‘I’m fine,’ she replied, massaging her wrists where the handcuffs had dug into her skin. ‘Thanks, C.W.’
Whitlock smiled at her, then crossed to where Philpott was standing.
‘Good work, C.W.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Cuff him,’ Philpott said, nodding towards Calvieri.
‘Allow me,’ Sabrina replied, then took the handcuffs from Paluzzi and snapped them around Calvieri’s wrists.
‘Have you got a cigarette?’ Calvieri asked Kolchinsky. ‘I haven’t had one all afternoon.’
Kolchinsky took his cigarettes from his pocket, pushed one between Calvieri’s lips, and lit it for him. Calvieri took a long drag then raised his manacled hands and took the cigarette from his lips. He exhaled deeply, then looked across at Philpott.
‘I’m not taking this rap by myself. You’ll find Nikki Karos at his house on Corfu.’
‘Karos alive?’ Paluzzi snorted. ‘That’s ridiculous. Mike and I were there when he was killed.’
‘It was stage managed for your benefit,’ Calvieri said to Paluzzi.
‘We’ve had the house under surveillance–’
‘Don’t you think he knows that?’ Calvieri cut across Paluzzi. ‘Why do you think Boudien dismissed the staff? To make it look as if Karos was dead.’
‘We saw him die,’ Graham snapped.
‘I don’t know how he faked it, but Nikki Karos is alive. I should know, I spoke to him on his private line this morning.’
Philpott turned to Graham.
‘I want you and Sabrina to check it out. Emile can fly you there tonight.’
‘I’ll fly them over, Malcolm,’ Kolchinsky said. ‘Emile’s a courier, not a combat pilot. If Karos is alive, we could come under fire.’