The Devil's Triangle (A Brit in the FBI 4)
“Cover me, I’ve got to be able to see more of the area.” Nicholas inched forward, crouched low, toward a small bridge arching over the canal. He saw another shooter, this one sneaking up behind Mike, taking sight. He raised his gun, smoothly pulled the trigger. The shot echoed, and the man disappeared, not shot; he’d melted back into the shadows. Well, bloody hell.
Where were the polizia?
Movement, he saw it, off to the north side of the piazza. He saw two men running past, taking up new positions, flanking him and Mike. So four shooters at least.
He needed to move some twenty feet to his left for a better position. He was about to make the dash when five shots came from his right, smooth, fast, from two guns. Small caliber, sounded like a Walther PPK, a British gun. But why would Italian thugs have British weapons?
He saw one of the shooters rise up to fire, and the British gun fired, and he went down.
He looked across at Mike. Her Glock was up, she was sweeping the area, like he was.
“Go,” a female voice shouted. He knew it was Kitsune. She slipped out of the darkness and was rapidly firing across the piazza. He took off back to Mike, grabbed her hand, and the two of them ran along the edge of the canal. Bullets sounded behind them, some striking the walkway, some splashing into the canal. They heard a man scream. A body fell in front of them and they leaped over it, not missing a stride, and went around a corner.
Adrenaline was flowing hot and heavy and Mike was blazing with fight. “Nicholas, who shot that man? Who was shooting back in the piazza?”
“Kitsune.”
“You’re kidding. What is she? Our guardian angel?”
“You’d think. This is the second time today she’s saved my hide.”
“What are we going to do? We can’t leave her to face the rest of the shooters and I’m nearly out of bullets.”
“I’ve only a few shots left myself.”
Another six shots from the British gun, then it was utterly silent, only the sound of the water lapping against the walkway. They heard footsteps, light as a feather, coming closer. It had to be Kitsune.
A quiet voice said, “Take the water taxi. I left it for you. I’ll come to you at the hotel. And Nicholas? Mike? Try not to get yourselves killed on the way.”
And she was gone.
They heard the wail of a siren. At last, the polizia.
He was glad the cops had finally showed up, but he didn’t want to talk to them. It would be too much. He grabbed Mike’s hand and they ran for the water taxi bobbing in the canal. They were on board; the driver, without a word, took off into the night, spray churning up like wings.
Nicholas glanced back once to see Kitsune standing on the pylon where the boat had been tied, covering their escape.
He said again, “That’s twice in one day.”
The boat made a sharp fast turn and spray hit her in the face. Mike swiped the water out of her eyes, laughed. “What is one to do with a criminal who rescues you?”
“Let’s start with finding out what she’s gotten herself into.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
Louisa met them in the lobby, candy from a vending machine in her hand. She did a double take. “What on earth happened to you?”
“More bad guys tried to kill us,” Mike said. “It was exciting there for a while, then Kitsune showed up, saved us yet again. No polizia, no Carabinieri, and that really pisses me off.”
“After the no-show in the piazza,” Louisa said, “I’ve got to think Kitsune’s clients paid them to stay away.”
Nicholas thought of Major Russo. “It’s reasonable to assume there are certainly a couple of high-ups who are doubtless on the clients’ payroll.”
Mike said, “Given someone’s tried to kill us twice today, and not a soul from the Italians’ side was around to help, I think we need to accept that we’re on our own.”
Louisa punched the elevator button. “Thank goodness Kitsune was there. She’s turning into Wonder Woman.”
Mike said, “I figure she has to save us, since she got us into this mess, whatever this mess turns out to be. Hey, Nicholas, you okay?”