Private Rome

Chapter 23

We pushed our way through the crowd, heading for the corridor linking the main saloon with the back rooms. I glanced over my shoulder to see the fierce-looking trio — all muscles beneath tightly fitting T-shirts, scowls and tattoos — barge their way after us.

I cleared the way for Luna, ignoring the irritated looks and hostile remarks we received, until we reached the corridor.

We ran along the dimly lit, narrow space, the restrooms to our left, a small catering counter to our right with next to it a storeroom and office. I glanced back to see the trio shoving people out of their way. One man made the mistake of trying to resist and was punched by the lead pursuer, knocking him backwards into the crowd as he fell.

The trio reached the mouth of the corridor as Luna and I made it to the fire door. I pushed the bar and barged the door open with my shoulder. An alarm sounded, panicking the already disturbed crowd, and I looked over my shoulder to see people moving as one toward the main entrance, away from the three men, who were close to us now.

I slammed the door shut behind us and scanned the gloomy alleyway for a makeshift barricade, but the dumpsters were all gathered fifty feet away where the alley met Via Frattina, and there was nothing else to hand.

Luna ran ahead of me, racing toward the road. The fire door burst open behind us and I turned to face the three fearsome fighters who spilt out. The first, a ferocious skinhead with a nose that had been broken long ago, swung at me. I ducked the punch and delivered a heavy fist to his gut, then caught him with an uppercut as he doubled over. I drove the heel of my palm into the ridge of his nose, breaking it anew, and he went down, his face a bloody mess.

His two comrades came at me. I lashed out, delivering a heel kick to the shin of the man on my right. The guy on my left was huge but moved slowly. As he threw a punch, I sidestepped, grabbed his arm and pulled it, so he lost his balance and took some compensating steps forward. I drove my knee into his groin and clapped his ears as he crumpled. The other man came at me, grabbing my shoulders, attempting to hurl me to the ground. I used his momentum and spun myself clear. We faced each other for a moment, while one of his comrades was on his knees clutching his bloody nose and the other had one hand pressed to his ear and the other to his groin.

I seized the advantage and rushed the standing man, charging him with my shoulder. I caught him with a savage tackle and felt the wind knocked from my lungs as he brought his fist down on my back. I ignored the pain and drove him into the fire door. He slammed into it bodily and I stood tall and swung a flurry of punches at him, which he tried to block ineffectually. I landed a right cross and his eyes swam, so I followed it up quickly with a couple of jabs and a hook that knocked him down.

Luna was at the mouth of the alley now, looking back at me.

“Come on!” she yelled.

I sprinted away from the incapacitated men, but as I neared Luna, my heart sank. A van pulled up behind her and she cried out as the panel door slid open to reveal two men in ski masks. They grabbed her before she could run and hauled her inside.

“No!” she shouted.

I sprinted as fast as I could, driving my heels into the cobblestones, but the van door slammed shut and the vehicle roared away. I managed to pound the bodywork impotently as it raced off.

I took out my phone and activated the camera to grab a series of photos of the speeding van, making sure I got its license plate.

When the vehicle finally turned left onto Via Mario de’ Fiori, I became very aware of the three injured men behind me, now stirring.

I hurried away and dialed 112.

“I’d like to report an abduction,” I said when the operator answered.