Frank Beretta remained sequestered in his nest above the lakeshore. His restlessness grew as the sun set. If things went going according to plan they had already started to move at the clinic. Now he had to wait impatiently for the call telling him Joey was safe.
To get himself focused on what he needed to do he went back over his checklist and scanned the villa with his high-powered scope. Soon he would need night vision, but he expected to be in the kayak by then. Serge appeared in the center of his bedroom windows. The French doors stood open, as usual, and the drapes fluttered in a soft evening breeze. The man had just taken a shower and Frank observed his prey dressing for dinner for the last time. Had he not had other plans for the drug dealing pimp this would have been the perfect opportunity to take a shot.
As he lowered his Zeiss scope to the level of the shoreline he was surprised to by a Zodiac with a single occupant approaching the villa’s docks. The small inflatable boat ran quietly on an electric trolling motor lending to the impression that its driver may not be expected. Frank hit the power zoom on his scope. Wearing dark clothes and a tactical vest the visitor was definitely not dressed for dinner. A holstered automatic and a compact machine gun in hand announced the guy's intentions.
Frank decided in an instant he'd rather be a participant and not a spectator. As he boarded his kayak and started to paddle across the lake he mulled over the possible identity of the unexpected arrival. It was true that Serge had many enemies both old and new. Frank’s greatest fear was that the newcomer was CIA. He was still having a hard time reconciling the recent deaths of the two field agents in France.
With each stroke of the paddle Frank’s kayak picked up speed and soon he became absorbed by the rhythmic exercise. The exertion helped balance out the adrenalin building in his system as he approached a showdown that had been on hold for decades.
At the clinic Katya’s plan was moving according to schedule. While she dispatched Farouk Farnazzi, Jorge headed down the hall to Jemima Burck's suite with a wad of cash in his pocket. The attendant, Rene, had vacated his post so Jorge knocked softly and waited for the door to open. Rene peered out through a narrow crack making it obvious Jorge would not be admitted as planned.
“What’s wrong, Rene? I thought we had a deal?”
“We do, my friend, we do. But you need to be patient. Someone is with her right now.” He spoke in a hushed tone.
“With her?”
“Yes. I don't think he will be long, though. You are next.”
Those words commanded Jorge to take immediate action. Using his jacket to conceal his weapon from the security cameras he pushed the door open and fired his dart gun twice at the horrified attendant. The first dart lodged squarely in his upper arm and the second in the neck. To be sure Jorge fired a third dart and hit him again in the arm. Rene, slowed by the tranquilizers, grasped for the darts in an attempt to remove them. Jorge pushed him back into the room.
“What are you doing?” Rene spoke slowly, on the verge of collapse.
“I’m with the hospital licensing board. We’ve had a number of complaints from patients about privacy issues.”
“Huh?” The man slurred as confusion set in.
Seeing the bedroom doors closed prompted Jorge to waste no more time. He spun Rene around and, for good measure, cracked him on the back of the head with the butt of his pistol. Rene dropped to the floor.
“I was joking, dumbass.”
Jorge moved quickly, drawing his 9mm automatic as he gained momentum and made no effort to make a stealthy entrance. Mario stood by the bed with his back toward Jorge. The top of Joey’s pajamas splayed open as the big Italian caressed her with his left hand and himself with his right.
Without turning around he said, “Not now Rene. Get out!” The words came out in a nauseating pant. Jorge raised his gun and fired a single, muted shot into the back of the perverted killer’s head. A pink spray hit the wall in front of him as the man fell forward onto the nightstand.
The clattering sounds accompanied by Mario’s fall appeared to register with Joey. She moaned a little and moved away from the noise. Perhaps she wasn’t as heavily sedated as Jorge thought. It didn’t matter. They had no time to spare. He gently pulled the IV from her right arm and covered her with a blanket from the end of the bed. As if on queue he heard two sharp knocks. Jorge bent at the waist and in a single powerful move lifted the limp woman onto his shoulder in a traditional ‘fireman’s carry’. In moments he stood at the entrance to the suite.
He opened the door and, as expected, found Edwin and Elisabeth, but their expressions were off. Something was wrong. Edwin turned his eyes hard right as if to signal before stepping forward slowly. Jorge had only seconds to back away before someone pushed Katya through the threshold with enough force to throw her off her feet. She landed on her butt and was followed into the room by a female guard. The compact, muscular woman's badge identified her as "Pauletta" and she had been sent to discreetly fetch Mario. She encountered Dr. Pendleton and his “patient” as she emerged from the stairwell. The woman packed the power of an athlete and carried a handgun.
Jorge’s first thought was to protect Joey. He turned ninety degrees away from Pauletta but had difficulty bringing his weapon to bear from that angle. Edwin drew his dart gun and fired three or four times striking her twice. The tranquilizer's effect was not immediate. Pauletta had just enough time to target Katya who raised her own weapon to fire. Certain she wouldn’t get a shot off in time Edwin stepped between them as he continued to pepper the woman with darts. Though one of them hit Pauletta in the face she still managed to get off a single round before Jorge dropped her with two taps from his Browning. The rescuers raced from the room.
Once in the elevator they all realized Edwin had been hit. His wound did not appear to be life threatening and they were able to press on. As they came to a stop Jorge set off the wailing car alarm. The disruption bought them seconds of time while the two guards tried to process what was happening. Seeing Edwin injured put Katya in a bad mood. She shot both men to death without reservation while Jorge loaded Joey and Edwin into the car. The Rolls was already in motion when she jumped into the front passenger’s seat.
With Farnazzi and Mario dead, the guards at the main gate had not yet been alerted. Through an open window Jorge spoke to one of the men who grinned, swung the big gates back, and saluted. Jorge stepped on the gas and, with a crisp salute to the gatekeeper, accelerated down the road. It was a drive of more than an hour to Milan where a plane was waiting for them.
“He was certainly cooperative.” Jorge grinned and rubbed his fingertips together signifying “money”.
Katya sent Frank a text message before turning to check on Edwin. She had him stuff gauze into his shirt and told him to keep pressure on it. He'd be in pain but no immediate danger. Joey, though unconscious, had good color and was breathing normally. For the first time she peered into the face of the woman who captured Frank's heart and her thoughts were conflicted. At least she'd repaid part of her debt of honor to The White Knight.