The Sniper and the Wolf

21

Night had fallen. Gil and Dragunov were parked behind a crowded shopping mall on the outskirts of Palermo with the young Italian woman — a brunette named Claudina — still crammed between them. Dragunov had wanted to put her in the Nissan’s trunk, but Gil had vetoed the idea. Using Claudina’s cellular, Gil tried again to reach Pope but had been unable to establish a connection. Dragunov finally managed to contact Federov at the Russian Embassy in Paris, arranging for a GRU doctor from Rome to meet them the next morning.

Both men were in pain from their festering gunshot wounds, and Dragunov — who had never been shot before — was acting even more cantankerous than normal. Both of them were too bloody to risk going into a store for supplies.

“The doctor will bring a pair of satellite phones tomorrow,” he said, giving the phone back to Claudina, who had stopped crying hours earlier. She seemed to have figured out they weren’t going to hurt her and no longer gave the impression that she was terrified of them.

“Good thinking,” Gil said. “Do you think Kovalenko is still on the island?”

“He’s still here,” Dragunov growled. “I can smell him.”

“Well, I was lookin’ for somethin’ a little more evidentiary than your sense of smell.”

Dragunov glanced at him in the dim light. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Why do you really think he’s still on the island? Your nose doesn’t tell me shit.”

Dragunov turned to face him, pushing the girl back against the seat so they could see one another clearly. “With the Italian navy patrolling the coast, Kovalenko couldn’t get back to the mainland in a destroyer. He’s as trapped as we are.”

“How’s the hand?” Gil asked.

“It hurts like hell,” Dragunov mumbled. “More than I would have thought.”

“You wanna get in back and catch some sleep? I’ll keep an eye on Claudina here.”

Dragunov shook his head. “You sleep first. You need it more than I do.”

“It’s too bad we can’t trust her to go for food,” Gil said. “I’m starved.”

“Don’t talk about food, Vassili. Get some rest.”

Gil opened the door and pushed the seat forward. Then he climbed into the back, where he quickly fell asleep.

He awoke a couple hours later, bleary eyed, to see that Dragunov was out like a light, with his head against the window. Claudina was not there.

He sat rubbing the back of his head. “Ya didn’t have to put ’er in the trunk. I said I’d take watch.”

Dragunov came awake, looking over the back of the seat. “What did you say?”

“I said you didn’t have to put her in the trunk. I offered to take first watch.”

Dragunov looked around and sat up straight. “Where did she go?”

“Fuck, Ivan! You fell asleep on watch?”

“I told you we should put her in the fucking trunk!”

“Don’t blame your fuckup on me!” Gil shoved the seat forward and opened the door so he could get back into the front. “Christ, man. You’d better get us the fuck outta here. No tellin’ how fuckin’ long she’s been gone.”

“Fucking soft Americans,” Dragunov grumbled, hitting the key. “That’s why you lost in Vietnam. You don’t have the heart for war.”

Gil smirked. “I don’t exactly remember a Russian victory parade in Afghanistan.”

They were pulling from behind a large delivery truck when Gil spotted Claudina walking across the lot with a plastic grocery bag in each hand, her long brown hair blowing in the wind.

“No way.”

Dragunov hit the brakes. “Go get her!”

“Will you calm down? She went for supplies.”

“That makes no sense.” Dragunov reversed the car, and the girl came around the front of the delivery truck, walking up on Gil’s side of the Nissan and holding up the plastic bags. Gil got out and pushed the seat forward so she could get into the back.

Dragunov killed the motor and immediately grabbed one of the bags. It was full of food and bottles of water. The other was crammed with gauze, bandages, tape, disinfectant, and a bottle of aspirin.

Gil tossed the aspirin to Dragunov. “Swallow a handful those.” He looked at the girl and smiled. “Thank you, Claudina.”

She shrugged and turned her head to look out the window.

“Why didn’t she call the carabinieri?” Dragunov asked, chewing the aspirin and chasing them with a gulp of water.

“Beats me,” Gil said, tearing open a package of bandages. “I guess she decided to take mercy on us.”

Claudina helped Gil to dress his shoulder wound properly, and then Gil and Ivan helped each other bandage their hands. A short time later, they sat eating cold hamburgers and French fries, each man feeling much better about his physical condition.

“She’s kind of pretty,” Dragunov said, watching out the window and stuffing a handful of fries into his mouth. “I’m glad I decided not to put her in the trunk.”

Gil bit off a mouthful of hamburger and sat chewing. “You’re all heart, Ivan.”

“When will you allow me to go?” Claudina asked in heavily accented English, sitting in the back with her arms crossed.

Gil and Dragunov looked at each other. This was the first real English she had spoken.

“I don’t want to lose my car,” she said. “The police will take it.”

Dragunov laughed. “Women!” he said, shaking his head. “The same everywhere.”

Gil looked over the back of the seat. “We’ll let you go as soon as we can. I promise.”

“I call my parents,” she said. “I tell them we are south of here near Corleone. That will lead the police away, yes?”

Gil grinned. “You’re a good little operator, yeah.”

Dragunov swallowed the last of his hamburger and looked at him. “There is something you need to know. Federov told me your man Pope was almost assassinated today. He’s in the hospital but going to be okay.”

“Why didn’t you say somethin’ before?” Gil snapped. “How bad is he?”

“He’s not too bad, I think. He was only shot once.”

“Why didn’t you fucking tell me?”

Dragunov shrugged. “We were in rough condition before. I didn’t think bad news would be good for your morale.”

Gil thought that over. “I guess I can see that.”

“In the morning you are supposed to contact Pope’s Japanese woman. Federov was not given a name.”

“Midori,” Gil said. “That means we’re still in business. Hell, we might even still have satellite surveillance.” He glanced into the back to see Claudina curled up on the seat. “We gotta cut her loose in the morning, Ivan. We can’t risk her getting killed in a cross fire with the cops.”

Dragunov sat nodding, balling up the burger wrapper and dropping it into the bag. “I know. She’s a good girl.”