Christmas Choices Chapter 4: Carnificial Night
"Good to see you again, Inspector." Paolo held out his hand.
"And you as well, Colonel." Liceti grasped it and squeezed it hard.
"So, how can I help the Polizia di Stato in a Guardia di Finanza investigation?" Paolo reciprocated.
Their eyes locked. Their hands each constricted the other.
"You can start with telling me why SISME was at the site."
His concentration fixed on the proxy battle-handshake, Paolo responded without thought. "I haven't been in Military Intelligence for some time."
Liceti bore down harder, unearthing some reserve of strength. "I think you're still a spook."
"Well, if I am, do you think it's wise to ask me that?" His voice was low to hide the strain.
"I don't know. Why don't we call that number on the MoD business card together and see?"
Paolo yielded. His fingers relaxed, and he wiggled his hand from the Inspector's. "All right, what if I was in the intelligence service? What would you expect me to say? Admit it?"
"No, but I'd like an honest answer to-"
They were interrupted by Dorigo's mix of laughter and coughing, quickly joined by the bleating heart rate monitor. "You are too much, both of you!" He waved his hand at the police inspector. "And here I thought you were visiting me! Instead, you're just looking to finish some fight. Well, go ahead, but try not to break anything; they might bill me for it."
Paolo shook his head. "This isn't the right-"
"Wait a second, Colonel. You owe me some answers. We can start with-"
He held his index finger to his lips. "Not. The. Right. Time." The words were soft, scarcely more than a whisper.
In unison, four pairs of eyes glanced at the door. Nothing.
His voice still hushed, Paolo asked, "Dominic? Can you cough again? Cough a lot."
Dorigo complied. The monitors scolded them.
"That's good." Paolo patted the capo's hand. "Disconnect yourself and get in the coat closet."
He slapped his belly and winced. "Have you seen this? The result of years of good living. Do you think I can-"
"We don't have a lot of time." Paolo started to gently pull the tubing and cables off the portly man. Beeping, then screeching filled the room.
"Bathroom?"
"It can wait."
"No, how about I hide in the bathroom?"
"That's where they'll look after they shoot up the bed. Get up and get in there."
With an exaggerated grunt and grumble, Dominic Dorigo sat at the edge of his bed. Inspector Liceti mouthed a "Why?" as he helped the older man up and to the closet.
As Liceti closed the closet door, Dorigo uttered a sardonic "Thank you." Between the blaring medical alarms and the door, it was barely heard.
Paolo turned and drew the privacy curtain around the bed. "In the bathroom, Inspector."
"Signore Paolo?"
Paolo looked down. Dina had placed herself between him and the door, her hand again in her bookbag. "The guards didn't come when he coughed. Twice."
"I meant, where do you want me?"
"Out the window."
Liceti grabbed his arm. "Are you joking? This is the fifteenth floor!"
"It's all right, Signore Inspector." Dina slid the Beretta 90Two from her bag, the ripping of hidden Velcro seams seeming louder than even the cacophony of bleeps and tones. She passed the gun to her left hand, drew the Gerber Mark II blade and clamped it between her teeth. "Be careful, Signore Paolo." With the knife between her teeth, her words were distorted, and her lips twisted in a grimace of a smile.
The suddenly-opened window chilled the room. Below, the street lights and decorations twinkled in their unknowing peace. Paolo guided the stunned policeman into the cramped bathroom and closed the door. He unholstered his own Beretta 90Two. "Do you have a pistol, inspector?"
"What?"
"We may have to defend ourselves. Do you have a -"
The staccato barking echoed in the tiled chamber. It was followed by two mighty and deep roars. The chainsaw of gunfire resumed, then stopped a second later.
A second tempo of blasts sounded, two at a time, then a pause, then two more. It was replied by the angry rattle coincident with a deep boom.
Light suddenly shone into the darkened lavatory when a fist-sized chunk of the door vanished.
The double-tap beat responded, then a short burst of submachine gun fire suddenly cut short.
As fast as the chaos of gunfire burst upon their ears, so was the stillness that followed. Only their shallow and rapid breaths, only their pulsing heartbeats filled their ears.
"Signore Paolo? You can come out now."
Paolo opened the door only partway before it hit a felled body. He leaned on the door, moving it to one side and leaving an angry red smear on the white linoleum floor. He looked around.
Tufts of batting and feathers still floated in the air, giving it the look of indoor snowfall. The air was turned acrid from the gunfire.
Four attackers lay dead in the room. One more was sprawled face-up in the doorway, the Gerber protruding from his right eye socket. They all wore doctors' scrubs, hair nets, face masks, even the synthetic cloth shoe coverings. Their firearms were not far away – four Steyr TMP machine pistols and a Franchi SPAS-12 shotgun.
Grimly, Paolo walked past the gape-mouthed Liceti and pulled the last body into the room before closing the door. He grabbed the inspector by the shoulders and shook him. "Listen. There may be more of them. Are you still with me?"
Mutely, the Inspector nodded.
The Mafia capo slowly crept out of the closet. He took in the carnage. "What… what happened?"
"Not the right time. Are you all right?"
He pointed at his other shoulder. "I'm not … sure. Is … is this supposed to happen?"
The dressing was soaked in red, and it was starting to drip.
Dorigo collapsed to the floor.
Dina unslung her schoolbag and swapped magazines, then knelt and retrieved her knife from the dead man's skull, wiping it once on each side on his chest to remove the bits of bone and sheen of mucus. She put it between her teeth. "Out the window again, Signore Paolo?"
"No, Dina. They know we're here. Tend to him, first. I'll cover the door."
"Yes, Signore Paolo."
"She is a ... " Liceti swallowed, looked at her, then at Paolo. "She's a … a monster."
"No, she may be able to do amazing things." Paolo tilted his pistol to check the chamber loaded indicator, then crouched, aiming at the doorway. "But at her heart, she's just a little girl."
