“Jesus,” Dennis muttered.
He had to brake hard and swerve as motorway users performed emergency action to avoid the carnage and now the traffic was slowing ahead. Two police cars raced past headlights and blue lights ablaze. Dennis switched on his siren and blue light again and changed lanes until he was on the hard shoulder. He raced the Lancia’s engine through the gears and hammered down the middle lane now the road in front clear as far as the Hummers. The two police cars were keeping a safe distance. Dennis could hear their conversation with control over the Lancia’s radio.
The Hummer’s were back in traffic now. They raced past the junctions for the Fumicino airport. The traffic here slowing into two lanes. The telephone on the passenger seat began ringing again.
“We’ve got you on the scanner,” Sonnenburg began, “We’re setting up a road block. As you pass each junction more police cars will join. The idea is to box them in and slow them down, eventually stopping them.”
“You’d better tell them not to get too close,” Dennis replied, “They’ve got machine guns and they’ve already killed two of your motorcyclists….”
Dennis read the road sign ahead.
“Civitavecchia,” he said, “Is that the port where the big cruise ships dock?”
“It is. Tarquinia is just beyond it and if you maintain the speed you’re doing you’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
Sonnenburg was right Dennis was thinking as he and the police cars tailing the Hummers raced past the exit for the port. Above, the helicopter kept a distance from any potential gunfire. Dennis was at the back of the carabinieri cars which were keeping a formation to stop any vehicles from behind in overtaking. Then ahead in the distance in the fading light Dennis saw the unmistakeable bulk of a transporter plane flying low. The flashing lights on the aircraft drawing his attention. Even from this distance Dennis recognised it as a C130 Lockheed Hercules. Dennis was going to dismiss the aircraft but it suddenly occurred to him that it might be heading for the airfield bought by Von Werner. What was it called? Tarquinia?
Then Dennis saw the sign for Tarquinia and he knew that must be where the transporter was heading. He picked up the phone to ring Sonnenburg to warn him when the unthinkable happened. Almost as if in slow motion Dennis saw the Hummers pass a coach full of tourists. As the last Hummer passed a man leaned out of the back window, aimed his gun and fired a burst of bullets at the front wheel which exploded in large lumps of rubber. Dennis imagined the driver fighting for control and then suddenly it was swerving across the lanes without slowing. The twelve ton coach ploughed into the central reservation, destroying a few metres of it before the vehicle mounted it. The front end of the coach rose into the air, the chassis clearly visible, before it came crashing back down on its side in a shower of sparks and broken glass. The coach slid along the carriageway for a short distance and then completely stopped. The first two police cars were unable to stop in time and they ploughed straight into the wreckage. The third lost control and slammed into the central reservation. Another police car slammed into the two already embedded into the coach. The last was able to stop. Dennis in the Lancia was also able to stop, the Lancia’s tyres squealing black smoke. Then Dennis was throwing open the driver’s door and he was out running to the scene.
He got halfway when one of the police cars exploded, picking him up and throwing him through the air. Dennis landed in the road, his ears ringing. Then slowly he was able to get up and he groped past the other police car that had stopped. The driver of this car also slowly getting to his feet. Dennis helped him then moved forward. Three police cars were burning and he shielded his face with his hand as he got closer. A sickening pall of black smoke rising. Then Dennis was running for the coach knowing it too would catch fire at any moment. The smell of burning flesh was nauseating and Dennis saw the burning policemen sitting upright in their car seats and he fought the urge to vomit. He swallowed the bitter tasting liquid that had found its way into his mouth.
A window on the coach exploded and he heard the screams of the passengers trapped inside. Dennis made his way round to the front. He could see the coach driver was dead. Then the vehicle began to burn and the screams intensified. Some of the passengers were scrabbling through the smashed window and they crawled along the side which was now the roof of the coach. One man was struggling and he fell back twice. Willing hands outside tried to pull him up and then suddenly the flames leapt and he was consumed. Those trying to help him scrambled to safety. Dennis ran around to the back of the coach knowing there would be an emergency exit, the back window. He could see there was no outside handle to open it. It required a special hammer to break it. The hammer was inside. The back window like all the other windows was tinted and he could see hands frantically thumping at it. Then he saw a child’s face appear at the glass and he began kicking the toughened glass. He kicked it repeatedly but it wouldn’t break. A policeman suddenly appeared alongside him and together they tried to break it. Still to no avail. Other faces appeared at the glass now, panicking. Then Dennis grabbed the policeman’s gun and he banged hard on the back window.
“Move back! I’m going to shoot the glass!” he shouted.
He knew he probably couldn’t be heard so he banged the gun on the window a few times then moved back and pointed it. The faces disappeared and he fired. The first three bullets travelling so fast just punched holes in the tinted glass. The fourth one shattered it into millions of cubes. Dennis knocked as much of the glass in as he could. Desperate hands reached out and Dennis grabbed the child and pulled her to safety as the policeman began pulling people from the wreckage. He carried her to the Lancia and opened the back door and placed her inside. She was crying and he bent down and brushed her long hair away from her face.
“Shh. Shh. You’re safe now,” he said.
A woman came hysterically running to the car. Dennis moved out of her way and she reached in and scooped the little girl up. She kissed the child repeatedly on the side of her head, the hug so intense.
“Grazi! Grazi! Signori!” the woman said, then, realising Dennis may be English she said, “Thank you for saving my little Rosa. Thank you.”
Dennis placed his hand gently on the woman’s shoulder and they exchanged a smile. The sound of another small explosion came across to him and he was running back to the coach. The policeman was still plucking people from the back window and Dennis rushed in and was helping to pull them out. Then his T-shirt was getting wet and he tasted the sweet water on his lips and he couldn’t understand how it could be raining when the sky had been clear all day. Then suddenly the firemen were there and kind hands grabbed Dennis and helped him back, to safety. He saw the hose that was held by two firefighters that was already dousing the flames that now hissed and he realised that this was his rain. The fireman who helped him was checking him over for injuries and Dennis shook his head.
“I’m all right.”
The fireman nodded and rushed off to help others. Dennis looked at the woman still cradling the small child her eyes never having once left him. He half smiled again and then a dark thought crossed his mind and he walked across the carriageway to see past the coach, to look for the Hummers. The road ahead was completely clear. The Hummers were gone.