I shoot Him. Right in his open mouth with his rubbery, wet lips. To wipe that horrible grin off His pasty, doughy face. The force of the blast knocks me back against the wall and Ihatebeing so weak, coughing until I get my breath back. “Do it do it doitdoit…” I’m whispering mindlessly and I try to straighten my arms again. “This is for all those poor women.” I shoot him once more in the crotch. Wiping my sweaty hands on my shirt, I take another deep breath, bracing myself against the wall. The Smith & Wesson feels like it weighs 800 pounds but finally, I shoot him right in the heart. He should have suffered more. But the crotch shot seems right.
Then I’m out the back door, running painfully to the lights of the closest street, gun still clenched in my hand.
Dario…
“What the fuck just happened?”
I’d walked down to the main floor after checking in with Giovanni to find my head of security unconscious, the door to Schmidt’s holding cell open, and one very dead trafficker. There was a well-placed bullet right through his mouth and out the back of his head, one in his crotch and then in his heart.
“A triple tap,” I nodded my head in unwilling respect. Whoever it was knew what they were doing
Carlo dropped his head. “It was Cora.”
“What?” I shouted,“Cora?She’s the size and weight of your average house cat right now! How did she overpower you? Hypnosis?”
“She injected me with something,” he angles his shoulder to show the mark. “It knocked me out almost instantly, it must be the stuff Edoardo used on Schmidt.”
He gets up, leaning heavily against the wall. “I’m guessing the men patrolling the perimeter didn’t catch her.”
Angrily slapping on my headset, I check in with Luigi and Alessio. “Cora’s gone; the back door is open. One of you head for the closest streets, the other into the woods. Send out Davide in the truck.” Looking over at Carlo, I said, “I’m assuming she shot Schmidt with your gun?”
Patting his empty holster, he closes his eyes and nods.
“She’s armed,” I said into the headset, “use caution but retrieve her. Alive. And uninjured.”
Edoardo staggers down the stairs, still half asleep. “What happened?” He heads to Carlo, checking him over.
“Cora stole a syringe of your industrial-grade knockout juice from your bag to disable Carlo,” I said bitterly, “she took his gun and killed Schmidt. Three perfectly placed shots. I think we’re dealing with a professional.”
“What the hell?” Edoardo drags his hands through his short hair. “I’ll get Leo and we’ll dispose of the body. You want Schmidt in pieces and buried or dissolved? That’s going to be a much longer process.”
“I want him buried intact,” I snap, “shallow grave, easy enough to find once they trace him to here.”
He nods grimly and sets off to get rid of that piece of shit while I pace, thinking. “Contact Casey, he should be back in the US. See what he can find on street traffic cameras. Getting out of Heidelberg is going to be her next move. Get someone down to the train station, and monitor the bus routes out of here for the next couple of hours. She’s not going to stick around.”
Carlo pats his back pocket and his head drops again. “Fuck. She’s got my wallet.”
Chapter Five
In which Cora flees and Dario chases. Unsuccessfully.
Cora…
No matter what else you can say about the characteristics of mobsters and made men, they always seem to carry a big roll of cash. Thank god, Carlo is no different. I feel terrible taking his money, though I have no choice.
Striding into the bus station, I try to look like your average tourist, trying to get to the next stop. I’m grateful for the bit of good luck that Dario took me right back to Heidelberg, because every time I headed to a new city, I’d stash my fake IDs, burner phone and emergency cash in a locker at the bus or train station. It may have been ten weeks since I was taken, but I’m proud I remember the combination to the lock just fine.
Heading for the ticket counter, I look up, giving the security cameras around the open area a good look at my face.
“Guten abend,”I say politely to the sleepy ticket agent, “a ticket to… searching the departure board, I pick the next bus out. “To Frankfurt,bitte?”
Yawning, she hands me my ticket and I head for the women’s restroom. My little bag stashed in the bus terminal lockers also has a pair of glasses, a wig, and enough make-up to change my looks, along with a big hoodie that I pull up over my head, shadowing my face as I amble out of the terminal and catch a ride to the train station. I’ve turned Carlo's wallet - minus the cash - into lost and found and bought a ticket to Stuttgart when I see two of Dario’s men hurrying through the main entrance.
“Oh, no no no no,” I whisper, heading in the opposite direction and scanning the departure display. My train is only two gates over and about to leave. I scoot in between a few other tired souls racing for the gate and barely get my foot on the step when the doors close behind me. I see one of the men - Davide, I think - hop the gate to search the windows as the train cars pass by.
Knocking into the woman in front of me, I apologize profusely as I kneel out of sight and help her pick up her things as he runs down the platform to check the next car.
That was close,I think, shuddering,that was too damn close.
