Claire Gulliver #03 - Intrigue in Italics (17 page)

“Okay, keep calm. We’ll get you out of there, I promise!” Aaron hoped he was telling her the truth.

He covered the mouthpiece as Craig and Jason approached him.

“We need some time. Can you get them on one of the trails? By the time they get to the next village we can have someone there to meet them,” Jason told Aaron.

“Claire? Are you up to a little hike?” he inquired, seeing Jason’s nod as he pointed to a map he had placed in front of Aaron.

“We’d like you to take one of the trails, perhaps the one to Corniglia. Do you think you can do that? Can you get on that trail without being seen?” He paused a moment for Claire to respond.

“Okay, this is what we’ll do. You take the trail to Corniglia and we’ll have someone there by the time you get there. Don’t go back to your room, just leave. We can collect any of your stuff later. And tell Kristen not to worry about calling in, we’ll make contact for her.

“Okay, don’t worry about recognizing our people; they will be accompanied by uniformed Italian Police Officers. You’ll know who they are. Now when you hang up, go right to the trail and try to stay out of sight. We don’t want these guys on the trail behind you.”

When he hung up the four people eyed each other. Marla said what they were all thinking. “We’d better not screw this up. I wouldn’t want to have to explain it to Bernie when he surfaces.”

“Hell no. He’s trusted us. We’re going to take care of this,” Craig asserted. “We’ve got James Martino in that area. I think he’s our best bet. Are you able to make contact with him, Marla?”

The four gathered around the big central table they used so often in planning their rescue operations. They didn’t have much time; they would have to move swiftly.

Claire hung up the receiver, removed the phone card and handed it to Kristen. “They want us to get out of here. We need to take the trail to Corniglia. Someone will meet us there. We need to leave now.”

“But what about my call at one o’clock?”

Claire paused and looked at Kristen with a grim expression. “I think when they don’t get that call someone there is going to assume their killers were finally successful.”

Kristen gasped, then recovered and nodded. A determined gleam came to her eyes, she said, “Let’s go! I think the trail starts on the other side there between those buildings. That’s the way the day trippers went earlier.”

There was a tiny sign with an arrow pointing in and the name Corniglia on the side of the building. The space was tight, just a corridor between the buildings, only enough room to walk single file. They hurried, nervously glancing over their shoulders until they turned a corner and could no longer be seen by a casual glance from the street. The lane twisted and turned as it moved upwards between and behind the tightly packed buildings forming the village. They stopped to catch their breath on the trail high above the house where they were staying. Here they could see right down into the village. Here they were higher than the tower perched on the cliff over the sea.

The village was so beautiful, so peaceful. Claire could see the old ladies in black, sharing a bench across from where their trail started. And she could see him now, the brown suited guy and his friend in the red jacket. They were striding purposefully out from under the tracks, heading down to the piazza.

“Maybe we’re being paranoid,” Kristen said hopefully. “Did you ever think they just might be tourists? They may not be assassins looking for us.”

Claire glanced at her and saw how hard she was trying to believe it.

They watched as the men approached the women on the bench. They had no way of knowing what words were exchanged, but one of the women clearly pointed across the street where the path cut through between the buildings and then pointed up to where they were standing. Both men turned and stared while Claire and Kristen were pinned to the path as immobile as frightened rabbits.

The men nodded at the women and moved into the street. They conferred and separated. The man in the red windbreaker headed back up the hill while the brown suited man disappeared between the buildings.

“Paranoid? I don’t think so,” Claire said. “Come on, we need to move fast. We don’t want him catching up with us.”

Then as they moved briskly around the bend in the path, “I wonder where the other man was going.”

Their path was now in full sun and dusty. It wandered down the coast, sometimes through terraced grapevines planted on either side, sometimes running along the cliff, high above the waves crashing on the rocks. Occasionally, hikers coming from Corniglia passed them and once Kristen asked two young men about the trail ahead.

“Good, very good,” they told her. “Just follow the red and white markers and, if you’ve brought your suits, there are a couple of great places to swim.”

The other young man seemed eager to join the conversation. “Or if you didn’t bring your suits there’s a nude beach near Corniglia.” This suggestion was delivered with such a lecherous look on the young man’s face that Kristen laughed in spite of her worry about the threat coming behind them.

She promised she’d consider a swim, waving as they moved on. It wasn’t long after they passed the young men that they reached a point in the trail where they could see it hugging a cove and then stretching back around the cliffs far on the other side. From this point they could see a few little figures moving both ways, those in front of them going to Corniglia and those heading their way from Corniglia. And there was a lone figure wearing something bright red.

Claire halted abruptly the little hairs on her neck standing up straight. She didn’t want to believe it, but she felt certain. “Look Kristen. Is that the man who was with Brown Suit?”

“Maybe.” Kristen shaded her eyes, making a telescope out of her fingers in order to see better.

“Could be. Maybe that’s where he was going when he left Brown Suit in Vernazza. Maybe he took the train to Corniglia so he could come the other way and sandwich us between them.

“Pretty clever, these assassins.” Her attempt at humor didn’t work. They were both too worried to be amused.

They looked at each other, wondering if not saying out loud, how far behind them Brown Suit was. Their brisk pace meant to put distance between them and the danger following them now looked like it was only moving them faster towards a new danger in front of them.

“It doesn’t seem to make a lot of sense to keep rushing this way only to end up meeting him.” Claire looked at the long trail in front them, searching in vain for a dissecting trail. “Maybe we should go back a ways and try to climb up through those vineyards. Maybe we could find a road.”

“I think the vineyards are too far back. They were pretty close to Vernazza. We might meet up with Brown Suit before we get there...” She too was looking around. “Claire, did you notice a little way back that section of path that veered toward the cliff? It was cordoned off.”

Claire hadn’t noticed it.

“It was just before we met those two guys. I’m wondering if it was the original path. Maybe they closed it so people wouldn’t walk so close to the edge of the cliffs. Maybe we should go back there and see where that path goes. It would get us off this trail for a while and then after Brown Suit passes we could get back on the main trail and make it back to Vernazza in time to make the boat for Riomaggiore.”

Claire realized it might work. They had no other options, so she nodded her agreement and they headed back the way they came. Their pace picked up so they were almost running. They weren’t sure how close Brown Suit was and they wanted to get off the trail before he came around a bend.

“There it is. See up ahead that clump of rocks?”

Claire saw the clump of rocks but couldn’t detect the trail until they were almost on top of it. It hadn’t been used for a while as was obvious from the weeds breaking through the worn path almost obliterating the trail. And while Claire didn’t read Italian the sign on the barricade was clear the trail was closed.

“Come on, Claire, hurry.” Kristen was tense. She ignored the sign, leading the way, confident her plan would work.

Claire, close on Kristen’s heels, climbed over the barricade and around the rocks used to block the trail. On the other side the trail was wide and only slightly sloping downhill until it turned around a bulge and was hidden from the trail above. They paused here looking around them. From this point they could no longer see any of the trail either coming from or going to Vernazza which they hoped meant that they couldn’t be seen either. They moved comfortably along walking abreast. Claire drank some of her water and then shared the bottle with Kristen. They had been on the trail for almost an hour. Claire was tired, mostly a result of the heat and the stress, but so far the hike hadn’t been too bad.

Almost in answer to her thoughts the trail they were on narrowed, dipped down and then around another bend it climbed steeply. Halfway up a steep cliff the trail faded. Here it was covered with loose gravel and sand. It looked treacherous, obviously the result of previous landslides.

Kristen started confidently across before Claire could even open her mouth to suggest caution. But when Kristen reached stable ground on the other side without incident, Claire, with her heart in her mouth and refusing to look down, followed. She breathed a sigh of relief when her feet were once more firmly planted on the hard, wider path on the other side. She hurried after Kristen, who had disappeared around another turn.

This trail was much more rugged than the one they started on. This trail wended its way on the very edge of the cliffs. Some places the trail seemed cut impossibly into the cliff and it was a sheer drop to the jagged rocks and water far below. Claire could understand why it had been closed and the other trail, cutting inland along a safer route, opened.

“This must run into the other trail up here somewhere but I didn’t see where it did before we decided to turn around, did you?”

Claire shook her head, realizing they might not want to merge with the main trail as they might come out just where Brown Suit and Red Jacket met.

It turned out there would be no danger of that happening, because abruptly the trail ended. They both stood and looked at the deep gouge in front of them which was probably formed when part of the cliff fell into the sea, taking the trail in front of them and quite a bit of the hillside.

“I guess this is why it was closed.”

“It looks like it happened quite a while ago.” Claire backed up, wondering how secure the section of the cliff they were standing on really was.

Kristen followed her backwards, maybe having the same thoughts.

“Well, nothing to do but go back to the main trail. Hopefully, Mr. Brown Suit has passed.”

Claire nodded, heading back, this time in front.

They were making good time, striding with the confidence of having already been over this trail, so when they came around the bend and came face to face with Brown Suit and Red Jacket they were stunned.

But for only for a moment; then Claire, with a flood of adrenaline rushed forward, not giving Brown Suit a moment to prepare his attack. His face was frozen in a look of astonishment as she raised her leg and kicked out with all her might. He was more agile then she expected, jumping back out of the way so her foot missed his knee completely. Her momentum, unchecked, threw her off balance carrying her dangerously toward the edge of the cliff. That’s when Kristen grabbed Claire’s backpack, yanking back until she got another hand on Claire’s upper arm, pulling back enough to counterbalance her. As Claire and Kristen both straightened up their eyes were drawn back to the drama developing on the trail in front of them.

When Brown Suit had leaped back to avoid Claire’s kick he had put himself squarely back on that portion of the trail covered with loose gravel. His highly polished Italian loafers, now marred and dusty, were not meant for trail walking. They started sliding on the treacherous surface. He tried to regain his balance but only upset more debris as his scrabbling feet sought a purchase in the loose sand. Red Jacket, just behind him, tried to steady him, but Brown Suit was now panicking, his arms flailing as he flung himself against the side of the cliff, clinging to some plants rooted in the wall of the cliff. But he only succeeded in pulling them out from the earth, adding more dirt to the slide that was starting.

The frantic activity of the men was too much. Red Jacket turned and tried to lunge for the more stable ground behind him, but Brown Suit grabbed him.

All four of them watched with disbelief as the ground reshaped itself, gravel and rocks sliding with more intensity. The men struggled to maintain their footing on the fast disappearing trail. Claire and Kristen on solid ground backed away. Claire would never forget Brown Suit’s face; his initial predatory look had changed to one of terror, before he and Red Jacket were swept off the cliff along with a good portion of the trail.

Claire and Kristen had mutely retreated around the bend, praying that the slide would stop before it reached them. Finally silence seemed to echo in their ears. Claire collapsed into a heap on the trail, her knees just gave out. She clasped her arms around them, rocking back and forth, saying, “I don’t believe it. I just don’t believe it.”

Kristen slowly lowered herself to the hard path and stared out to sea. She too was stunned by their unexpected reprieve.