Day Of Confession

159

10:58 a.m.

Eaton stood near the back corner of the railroad station, breathless and sweating, trying to stifle a coughing fit from the inhaling of smoke. The scant breeze that had come helped some but not enough, except that it had cleared the air just a little, enough for him to see what he saw now – Harry Addison coming down the grassy slope to his right, carrying the dwarf he'd left the apartment on Via Nicolo V with in his arms. He was half walking, half running, using a stand of trees that lined the roadway to the rail station for cover.

Fifty feet in front of him, Eaton saw the green engine inch toward an old and rusting freight car, which, he was certain, had to be the escape wagon. Glancing back he saw the rusty tracks leading out through the open gates in the Vatican wall. Now he looked back, searching for Father Daniel. If he could find him, that opening was the way he would take him, one way or another, even if he had to carry him.

Crossing behind the station, Eaton came onto the tracks with his back to the open gate. In front of him he saw the gray-haired, white-shirted stationmaster standing on the platform watching the work engine near the freight car. The man was a problem, as was the two-man crew he'd seen on the engine. But none of them were half the problem he saw now. Adrianna, suddenly, and from nowhere, was crossing the grassy hill toward Harry Addison and the dwarf.

He watched Harry stop when he saw her. Then Harry yelled something, as if to tell her to go away. But it made no difference. She kept coming, and now she had reached them and was moving alongside, looking at the dwarf in Harry's arms then back to Harry himself. Whatever she said or was saying, Harry Addison kept going, heading downhill, toward the tracks.

'Dammit,' Eaton swore under his breath, his eyes moving off again, searching for Father Daniel.

'Adrianna, get out of here! You don't know what the fuck you're doing!' Harry yelled, half stumbling with Hercules in his arms.

'I'm going with you, that's what the fuck I'm doing.'

They were almost at the bottom of the hill. Almost to the tracks. Harry could see the green work engine nose to nose with the freight car, its engineer and brakeman with their backs to them, working at the couplings.

'Your brother's in the freight car, isn't he? The trainmen don't know it, but that's where he is.'

Harry ignored her. Kept walking, praying the trainmen wouldn't look up and see them. Hercules grunted and Harry looked down at him. The dwarf smiled feebly.

'The Gypsies are going to meet the train when it stops… Don't let the police have me, Mr Harry… The Gypsies will bury me…'

'Nobody's going to bury you.'

Suddenly the trainmen were walking away from the coupling, moving toward the engine.

'They're getting ready to leave!' Immediately Harry was pulling Hercules tight to his chest. Starting to run the short distance to the tracks. Adrianna stayed right with him.

Ten seconds later they were there. Crossing the tracks behind the freight car, running alongside it, out of sight of the trainmen.

Harry's eyes watered, his lungs on fire from the smoke and exertion of carrying Hercules. Where the hell were Danny and Elena? What had happened to Roscani? Then they were at the door and he stopped. It was partially open.

'Danny. Elena-'

No reply.

Suddenly the train whistle sounded. They heard the engine's diesel rev up. A puff of brown-black exhaust rising from its smokestack.

'Danny-,' Harry called again. Nothing.

Again the train whistle. Harry glanced at his watch.

11:00 A.M. exactly.

No time, they had to get into the car and do it now.

'Get in.' Harry looked quickly to Adrianna. 'I'll hand him up.'

'All right-'

Putting both hands on the freight car's floor, Adrianna pulled herself up and in. Then she turned and Harry set Hercules in her arms.

The dwarf coughed, grimacing as she strained to lift him. Then she had him up, and Harry was coming into the dimly lit car behind her. Suddenly she froze.

Thomas Kind stood directly in front of him. Elena was with him, eyes wide with fright, an ugly machine pistol to her head.