“From April until September the opening times are until seven o’clock. From October until March six o’clock. We are not closing this evening because of the bomb. The last thing Commandant Sonnenburg wants is thousands of people leaving the square and taking routes that will take them close to Balotelli’s police car. We do not need a panic on our hands.”
“So how long will it stay open to visitors?”
“All night if we have to.”
Ferrara looked at faces around him.
“Everyone seems content at the extended opening. “Let us hope it stays that way.”
No more than a hundred metres from them a man glanced impatiently at his watch again. It was now six forty five. He glanced around. The crowds should have been leaving at six o’clock. Filing through Pope Pius XII’s square the crowds would continue down the via Della Conciliazone or they would take the roads to the left or right. The bomb would cause absolute chaos and mass hysteria, distraction for the police.
Twice uniformed officers had passed by very close. One group had a very attractive blonde with them. Each time he’d averted them. He held an Apple I-pad in his hands, the code for the car bomb already programmed in. He had only to hit the enter button now.
He was still wearing his dark sunglasses. Suddenly a tourist stepping back to take a photograph bumped into him. The girl apologised and the man with the I-pad replied in Russian. The American tourist didn’t understand a word of what was said and she shrank away at the cruelty in the voice. A large, heavily muscled, heavily tattooed American man rounded on the Russian.
“Hey she said she was sorry.”
The Russian stared back through his sunglasses as the American glared on. The Russian had already decided that his training gave him the tools to cut the American down in a dozen different ways. He didn’t move though, unwilling to draw attention to himself from the police. Finally, the Americans, realising there wouldn’t be an argument forthcoming moved further away. Now the Russian had a clear line of sight to the attractive blonde. That she was with a policeman, no doubt a detective, was obvious. Then the detective was holding a finger to his ear and was talking quickly into his collar. Now the blonde was looking straight at him.
Natalie stared straight at the dark sunglasses. A chill went through her. She frantically tugged Ferrara’s arm, the one up to his ear. He stopped talking into his collar to look at her open mouthed.
“Him,” Natalie said, not taking her eyes off the man with the I-pad.
Ferrara spun round and met the cold stare. He undid his jacket and reached for his gun. The man with the I-pad turned and began to walk away.
“Stop!” Ferrara shouted.
He took his Beretta out and held it up into the air.
The man in the sunglasses was charging through people barging them out of the way. The four uniformed officers began to give chase but Ferrara stopped them. He fired a warning shot into the air causing people to scream and panic.
“Everybody down on the ground now!” Ferrara shouted, firing another warning shot into the air. People dived for the ground, many covered their heads with their hands. The man with the I-pad still in his hand turned on the run and pulling a handgun out of his pocket he fired at Ferrara. The bullets whizzed past the detective as he returned fire hitting the man twice in the chest. The gun man cried out as the impact of the bullets sent him sprawling. He looked over his shoulder, his eyes wide with pain and terror as he crawled towards the I-pad. Ferrara advanced on him quickly, the gun held in both hands never wavering from the target. Ferrara realising the man’s intent shouted.
“STOP!”
Too late.
The Russian reached the I-pad which had skittered out of reach and brought his hand down onto the touch screen as Ferrara shot him dead. A last groan escaped from his lips as he collapsed to the ground.
Ferrara, Natalie and the uniformed police all spun around as a huge explosion rocked the very walls of the Vatican and a large ball of fire rose into the darkening sky.
Sonnenburg and De Luca watched the scene from behind a jersey barricade which had been put in place four hundred yards from Balotelli’s police car.
Thirty minutes earlier a black army car along with the bomb disposal truck had arrived. An elegant officer had jumped out of the car and had introduced himself to the two senior police officers as Colonel Antonio Farina, an army bomb disposal expert who had done two tours of Afghanistan and three in Iraq with the united nations. He had instantly taken control of the situation and launched a rubber wheeled robot to investigate the car.
Sonnenburg and De Luca had been invited into the back of the bomb disposal truck which was also the incident unit and had watched on a bank of computer screens as the robot had set to work. Six rubber wheels and two mechanical arms had approached the Alfa Romeo. The two policemen had watched with keen interest as the robot had investigated the boot. The live video images streaming to the computers had shown the dead body being moved to examine the incendiary device. The robot had then moved around to the front of the door and peered inside the window De Luca had smashed.
Farina had noticed wires taped to the console which housed both the parking brake and the gear stick and then disappeared beneath the accelerator pedal. The robot had cleverly reached inside and pulled the door handle, reversed back and opened the door to Sonnenburg and De Luca’s total amazement. Next the robot had beamed back images of the car’s interior.
Finally Farina had moved away from the bank of computers to address the two policemen.
“It’s a simple device which is activated by someone depressing the accelerator pedal,” Farina explained, “This is why the bomb didn’t explode when you broke the window and opened the door.”
“Can you defuse it?”
“Absolutely. This will be a fairly routine disarmament. Has anyone taken responsibility for it yet? Any demands made?”
“Not as yet. Would it make a difference if anyone had?”
Farina got up and approached one of the heavy blast suits as aides rushed to help him.
“It would of course help to know who we’re dealing with. Certain groups prefer certain methods. With no-one coming forward to claim responsibility this could be just a political statement, someone who is angry with or at the Vatican or it could be a diversionary tactic.”
“What do you mean a diversionary tactic?” Sonnenburg asked.
“It could be to divert the police’s attention away from another target, possibly a political one. There is a football match tonight isn’t there? Between Roma and Lazio.”
“There is,” De Luca replied, ”But we don’t think that is the target.”
“Then it must be just someone making a name for themselves.”
De Luca looked at Sonnenburg who read the other’s mind and nodded.
“It seems a bit ridiculous but we believe there is someone, possibly a group, in Rome who is or are intending to steal relics from the church of the holy cross of Jerusalem.”
“A terrorist group?”
“No. A previously unknown group not linked to any organisations. We haven’t got all the details yet and what we do have is sketchy. We’re not even sure of their intentions as yet,” De Luca said, not sure as to how much information he should divulge to the army officer.
“Well I’ll say one thing,” Farina said as layers of Kevlar were folded over each other in front of his throat, “They’ve gone to a lot of effort just for a few relics.”
Now Sonnenburg and De Luca watched as Farina and his Lieutenant both suited up, left the truck and began a slow, heavy walk towards the police car. They passed the robot going in the other direction.
“Why is the other one carrying pipes and a jerry can?” Sonnenburg asked.