The Criminal Escapades of Geoffrey Larkin (39 page)

Now this special vault had been blown apart without anyone hearing or seeing a thing and without a single alarm being activated. How had that been possible?

It was while he was inspecting the ruptured vault that the unexploded shell was discovered in the next room. Along with the rest of his officers the superintendent made an undignified exit to the safety of the outside of the building. To make matters worse, the building's alarm had been activated by one of the overzealous officers opening a door to one of the offices on the first floor. The bank manager, who had the security combination, was not answering his phone despite numerous attempts to contact him. There was also a problem contacting the senior officer of the Carabinieri whose responsibility it was to call out the army bomb disposal team.

To add to the noise of the security alarm were the sirens of the fire engine and ambulance which arrived simultaneously in the Piazza. By now there was a sizeable crowd of curious locals, some still in their night clothes, who had been attracted by the noise and flashing lights of police, ambulance and the fire services. These were being herded a safe distance away from the building by the local police and Carabinieri. It was now 4.30am and the bank manager had been collected and brought to the bank with a police escort. In addition, the army had eventually been contacted and were sending a bomb disposal team immediately.

It was around noon, 12.30pm to be exact, before the shell had been deactivated and the bank declared safe to enter and 1.45 before it was possible to confirm that a significant amount of the silver bullion, plus the two unmarked wooden boxes also in the vault had been removed.

*

The Bolton brothers had entered Austria in the Mercedes via the route given them by Merkel at the same time as the shell was made safe at the bank. They had experienced no problems. They were now in the process of contacting the ex-bank clerk on the telephone number he had given to them.

At the same time the two people parked across the road from the hotel in Pisa so they could observe the entrance but were not too obvious themselves, were relieved by two fellow CIA agents. They had then reported for a meeting with the staff who were responsible for the security of the forth-coming assembly of European leaders.

Ronald B. Hutch had been in the CIA for six years and this was the first assignment where he was solely in charge. He was out to create a favourable impression with his superiors. It was his team that were operating in Italy with the Carabinieri's permission on a watch and observe only brief. He had been at the port of Brindi in the car park with his partner acting as American tourists. It was here they had taken ample photographs of the individual members of the gang. The CIA, the Italian authorities and Interpol operating on ‘red alert' had identified the individuals and passed on their files to the security staff.

This joint meeting was to discuss the next relevant action the security forces needed to take against this suspected gang of terrorists.

‘Good afternoon, gentlemen. My name is Hutch, Ronald B. Hutch. This meeting has been called in order to bring you up to date with recent developments. I would like to brief you and bring you up to date on the present position. My team and I, in conjunction with your security forces, have been monitoring a gang that recently entered Italy in two groups. The leader of the first group of four was a Geoffrey Larkin, a British citizen. Wanted by the British police for questioning in connection with a vicious murder, money laundering and travelling on forged documents and, also, dealing in explosives.'

At the word explosives, the men sitting around the table looked up with renewed interest.

‘The group of four that followed later was under the leadership of a man who goes under the title of Mr. Brown. The first group we have not yet been able to make contact with and we are still trying to trace them. The second group we have been following. They, gentlemen, are under surveillance as we speak. They have met with two local Italian criminals who are known to the Italian authorities. Also, it was the second group that made contact with a known smuggler at the Italian port of Brindi. From information forthcoming from this smuggler we believe it was this group that took possession of explosives at that meeting. The second group under their leader Mr. Brown are using a hotel in Pisa as their base.'

Agent Hutch stopped to pour and take a sip of water from the jug and glass in front of him. He could feel the tension in the room; he also liked the feeling of being the centre of attraction especially amongst so many senior members of the security team.

‘As a cover they are acting as ordinary tourists but they are also travelling on forged passports. All the members of that group, apart from one, are at this moment in this hotel in Pisa. I recommend, gentlemen that now would be an ideal opportunity to arrest these terrorists before they have the opportunity to split up and disperse into smaller cells.'

Ronald B. Hutch sat down and took another sip of water as he observed the impact his speech had had on the high-ranking officials sitting around the conference table. His partner entered the room and passed him a folded sheet of paper.

Hutch looked at the few lines of print on the paper, he then looked up at the men around the conference table, they were still in deep conversation amongst themselves. He looked at the note again.

There were reports being received of an explosion at a Municipal Building on the outskirts of Castiglion Fiorentino. Artillery shells had been fired from an armoured vehicle and the block had been cordoned off as, apparently, there were still explosives in the building.

Ronald B. Hutch was in a bit of a predicament. He could inform the committee of the shelling of their government building which, in his opinion, would strengthen his request for the gang in the hotel to be arrested at once. That would, however, embarrass the senior Carabinieri officer who, apparently, had not yet been informed of the explosion by his department. That situation could certainly sour relations for future joint Carabinieri/CIA operations in this part of Italy, especially if it came to light that the CIA were monitoring messages of the Italian security service.

The group had finished their discussion; they had obviously made a decision. Their chairman rose and addressed agent Hutch.

‘In the interests of security and for the protection of our foreign guests, we will take your advice, Officer Hutch. The Carabinieri Special Forces will be mobilised and sent to the hotel you mentioned at once. You will liaise with their commanding officer and arrest these terrorists. Please keep the committee informed of the outcome and of future developments.'

The committee's decision, given by the chairman, was obviously also his cue to leave. His business with the committee, as far as they were concerned, was obviously over. He thanked the committee and the chairman whilst placing the folded notepaper in his pocket as he left.

Ronald B. Hutch was pleased with the way things were developing. It had not been necessary to divulge his information in order to sway them to his way of thinking. He would have done so though if they had not followed his advice. He had two men still watching the hotel and an Italian Swat team was now on the way to join them. By the end of the day he would have these guys under lock and key leaving just one member of this section of the gang to be picked up.

He also had a team searching the villa on the outskirts of Arezzo. When they had finished he would pass the address on to the Italian authorities, as if it had come from one of the gang they were about to arrest. Sweet! That just left this limy guy, Geoffrey Larkin's cell of terrorists.

It was while he was being driven from his base in Florence to the hotel in Pisa that Hutch studied the dossier, which had been composed by Stockport police department at the request of the CIA on the leader of the second group, Geoffrey Larkin.

There were previous convictions as a teenager for petty theft. There was nothing after the age of fifteen although he had been suspected of being involved with more serious crimes but there was insufficient evidence to bring charges. He was wanted by the British authorities for questioning over a murder and the distribution of forged £20 notes.

Larkin left the country with three associates using false passports before he could be apprehended. He then entered Italy at the airport at Pisa. Last known address was when the four booked out of a hotel in Florence. None of that group has been seen since.

There were some personal observations from the inspector who had compiled the British information attached to the dossier.

‘You know I don't get this,' said Hutch to his companion.

‘What's that, sir?' she replied curiously.

‘This Brit; Inspector reckons that this guy Larkin is not a violent criminal, it's not in his nature to be involved with terrorists. These Brit service personnel are too soft. They use the term, liberal thinking. Have you ever heard so much shit? The same guy is involved in an unsolved murder, dealing in forged currency, using the money to obtain explosives smuggled in from an ex-Soviet dominated country, using an armoured vehicle to destroy a Municipal Building, and they say he's not a violent criminal. What a load of crap! It stinks! What's the latest on the explosion at the Town Hall Lainne?'

Lainne Landon, Hutch's CIA partner, had been working with her senior colleague for six months covering the security for this international meeting from the side of the American camp. She did not like Ronald B. Hutch as a person. He was extremely ambitious and rumour had it that he had no scruples about taking the credit if there was any going and not being afraid to drop his partners in the shit if need be and things didn't go as planned. So, on paper, his CV looked quite good and that's why he had progressed up the agency ladder so quickly.

She had considered asking her superior for a transfer, but after discussing the situation with her father, who had suggested that if she wanted to progress in this male dominated organisation, this guy Hutch was probably going places, and she would be as well hanging in there on the end of his coat tails.

‘Our agent at the scene reports that a tank was used to shell the Town Hall. The barrel has split so it's likely that some of the participants have been injured and possibly in need of medical attention. That's all we have at the moment, sir.'

‘Jesus Christ!' exclaimed Hutch. ‘A tank! Am I hearing you right? These guys have access to a tank. This is bigger and more involved than we first thought. Contact the agency Landon! Give them a brief breakdown with a more detailed report to follow. I think we'll need more back-up here, we need more bodies on the ground.'

‘Yes sir! I'll contact our supervisor as soon as possible. We are here now, sir. The hotel is just around the corner.'

She had pulled the car into the kerb where several men in suits were standing. One of the men left the group and joined them in the car placing himself across the rear seats.

‘This is Federico Mannarelli,' said Lainne, introducing the man to her boss. ‘He is from the Italian Intelligence Authorities and he is our liaison officer in this operation, sir.'

‘Hi there Frederico, I'm Ronald B. Hutch. I'm in charge of the CIA team here. I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance,' he said at the same time leaning over to shake the Italian officer's hand.

It was now late afternoon, there had only been a small tractor towing a trailer that had passed over the bridge while Geoff and Sooty were sheltering below, and then returned several hours later. Geoff had concluded that if the gang was intent on following them they would have been along this road by now.

He decided that they must have accepted the silver ingots as payment for their trouble, and hopefully called off their search.
One down, just the Carabinieri to go
, he thought as he looked at his mate's face which was still badly swollen and his eyes were bloodshot but it hadn't got any worse.

Although Sooty had dozed he had not fallen into a deep sleep, which is what Geoff was worried about, but it was too painful for Sooty to talk. It was now time to move on; they filled the small plastic containers that were clipped on the handlebars of the bike with water from the stream. Geoff thought these were a godsend because it meant that Sooty could drink fluids through his swollen lips using the thin tube at the top.

Leaving Sooty out of sight under the bridge, Geoff first checked the road was clear before going back to help the big lad up the embankment onto and then across the narrow road onto the faint track that led up the steep hill.

They made slow but steady progress and, even though the stony uneven mountain path was causing Sooty a great deal of pain and discomfort, the big lad moaned quietly on several occasions but he did not once complain to Geoff.

It was getting dark and they had climbed relatively high up into the hills, the cool breeze was a relief after the torrid heat of the valley, they found they were surrounded by bushes and woodland broken by the occasional field on a reasonably level plateau.

As they travelled by the light of a full moon, they could see far below them what Geoff said, according to his map, were the flickering lights of the city of Arezzo.

Their first night was spent in what was the tool shed of a shuttered up and securely locked villa, but it did have a small orchard of plum and pear trees and Geoff used a plastic bucket from the shed which he filled with the unripe fruits. He tried to collect the softest ones for Sooty so he might be able to suck them because at the moment still couldn't chew anything solid.

They left their shelter just before first light as they wanted to cover as much ground as possible before they were forced to take cover from the scorching midday sun. They had only travelled a short distance when they were both forced to dive for cover onto the rocky ground and into a clump of nearby bushes by the sound of a gunshot.

Both obviously thought the same; the gang had caught up with them. Nothing else happened, there was a deathly silence. Geoff raised his head slightly but quickly dived down again as another gun shot rang out.

The gang were definitely there. They were cruelly playing with them before finishing them off.
Typical,
thought Geoff. After what they'd done to their associate who had ended up in the Manchester ship canal, the sadistic bastards were mentally torturing them before moving in for the kill.

He looked down the track looking for more cover if they decided to make a break for it, wondering how far they would get before being shot. Turning back to Sooty he saw the big lad was standing up, his face contorted in pain.

The first thought that flashed through Geoff's brain was that Sooty had been shot. But Sooty was waving his arms and pointing for Geoff to look over the nearby stone wall. Gingerly, he raised his head looking over onto what was a recently planted field with new green shoots beginning to appear through the surface of the dark soil.

At the side of the field was a large blue gas cylinder, the type usually seen at the side of caravans or mobile homes; attached to this was a device that had caused the explosion. It was an automatic bird frightener set on a timer by the farmer to automatically start at dawn.

The first explosion had occurred just as they were passing. Sooty's painful expression was because the big lad, seeing what was causing the explosions and the effect it had on Geoff, had started to laugh, but the attempt had caused him a severe amount of pain. Not so with Geoff who did not see the funny side, after vigorously rubbing his bruised knee and wrapping his grubby handkerchief around a badly grazed and bleeding shin. He sat down on the wall for a few minutes to allow his heart to settle as it was still racing with the trauma of their experience.

Eventually he managed to get them organised again and back on their way cycling along the narrow rutted mountain track leaving the sound of the bird frightener far behind them.

They soon used their small amount of water, and the lack of it was becoming a problem as there wasn't any available so far up on the hillside.

Any springs that may have been there previous had dried up weeks before because of the very dry summer and, even though they could see storm clouds in the distance, no rain materialised in their direction.

They kept to the country paths, of which there were many on the hillsides, always going as near as was possible in a northerly direction. Unfortunately, at times, they were forced to backtrack which was all extra pain for Sooty as a path they followed was just a sheep or goat track and petered out to nothing and the terrain became impassable.

They occasionally managing to steal the odd plastic bucket of fruit, tomatoes or any other vegetable that was available from isolated villa gardens and orchards but these were few and far between as all the occupied ones seemed to have dogs, which started barking at the appearence of the two lads or the slightest noise.

In addition, both lads were suffering from a slight touch of diarrhoea, possibly from a combination of excessive unwashed fruit and vegetables and unclean drinking water.

Sooty's face was still quite swollen, although the purple bruising had started to disappear as well as the bloodshot eye which was not as startling, it was still obvious to Geoff it was very painful. ‘I'm going to risk going into the next village we come to, Sooty,' Geoff said. ‘We need some decent food but, most of all, clean water.' Sooty just nodded; it was still too painful for him to speak. He realised the risk Geoff was taking. But he was too weary and in too much pain to object, anyway he couldn't see any other alternative, as in the past he would leave any decisions to his mate, knowing they would work out okay in the end.

Geoff was worried about Sooty's face. He reckoned the big lad was suffering with a badly broken jaw and if he caught an infection through drinking the dodgy water they would be forced to find medical attention and for that they would need to show their documents, then they would both be in the shit!

It was the third afternoon of their journey over the hills. Keeping to the paths and limestone tracks Geoff reckoned that they were making reasonable progress and going in the right direction. They had managed to find two old battered straw hats in an out-building of one of the properties they had passed. ‘Put it on Sooty, I know they don‘t look very elegant,' Geoff had told his friend. ‘But it'll serve the purpose of stopping this scorching bloody sun from cooking our brains.'

Geoff had difficulty not laughing at the figure of Sooty in the battered old straw hat, but he must have looked the same to Sooty and uncontrolled laughter from the big lad would have caused him more pain. So he just mounted his bike and carried on cycling along the path followed more slowly by his friend. Apart from the odd hiker or locals with their dogs looking for truffles in the coppices they met no one on their journey over the mountain.

Eventually they came to a fork in the path, they could see that one went up and over the brow of the far hill while the other dropped down to what looked like a moderately large village.

‘This is it mate, wish me luck, you hang on here I'll be back in a jiffy.' Geoff mounted his bike and started the slow descent down the track in the direction of the village below.

Sooty watched him go until he was out of sight around a bend then he sat down in the shade of several trees at the side of the path to wait for his friend's return. He was glad of the rest, he was beginning to go weak at the knees, even though he would never have admitted it to Geoff, and he was quite prepared to have carried on until he eventually would have collapsed of exhaustion.

*

Geoff's arrival at the group of buildings coincided with the opening of the village store after siesta. As it was the only shop in the immediate area it doubled not only as general grocers but also as stationers, bakers, and butchers. Luckily, it also had a section for medication and even a part of the shop set aside for DIY and other basic hardware items.

At the rear, under a series of umbrellas were tables and chairs. ‘Gosh, it even has a café as well,' he said aloud as he brought all that he had purchased to the counter.

‘Buona sera,' he said to the young female assistant behind the till.

‘Buona sera, Basta,' she replied.

‘Si, si,' said Geoff. He was quite pleased with himself with the knowledge of Italian he had acquired in the short period of time he had been in the country, but then again he had received much help from the two old Austrians.

The girl put his purchases into two plastic bags. He was outside putting the contents of the bags into a shoulder haversack he had purchased when a noisy group of cyclists arrived in their brightly coloured, matching leotards on their smart, racing bikes, much different from Geoff's now very battered mountain bike.

Apparently, this must have been a regular stop for them as they exchanged pleasantries with the female assistant as they stacked their bikes against a nearby fence. Very noisily they then went through the shop to the café section beyond.

*

Geoff was finding it hard pushing the bike up the steep hill with the heavily loaded rucksack on his back, especially as it also contained a large six carton pack of drinking water plus the two cycle safety helmets he had taken from the group of stacked racing road bikes.

‘Bloody fools!' he said to himself in between taking in great lungfulls of air.

‘If they're stupid enough to leave expensive equipment lying around unattended, they deserve to have it lifted.'

By the time he reached where he could see the distant figure of Sooty under the shade of a tree the sweat was pouring off him. Sooty was sitting in the shade, leaning against the trunk of the tree. There was no movement from the big lad as he approached. A panic attack suddenly seized Geoff and he broke into a laboured trot pushing the bike in front of him.

‘Sooty!' he gasped but there was no response. ‘SOOTY!' he shouted again. He was much closer now and his shout was much louder. There was slight movement from the motionless figure, much to his relief Sooty's head turned slowly and he pointed to Geoff's saturated sweaty shirt.

‘Yes, I know Sooty,' he said, gasping for air. ‘My skin's leaking like an open tap!' Sooty held his face in his hands. It hurt him tremendously when he tried to laugh. ‘Here,' Geoff said, ‘try this on for size.'

He handed the big lad the largest of the two cycle helmets and although it did fit he could not fasten the chin straps as it was far too painful.

He had also managed to purchase an antiseptic gargle, cartons of fruity yogurt, soft cheese, tablets of soap, two small towels, a couple of pairs of socks and underpants, blood salts for dehydration and water purifying tablets, at least that's what he thought they were, but most important of all, an Italian version of an ordinance survey map for cyclists that showed the tracks over the hills between the different towns in that immediate area which were not covered by his original map.

In another nearby town Geoff managed to buy some proper side packs for the bikes and a cheap tent along with some waterproofs. Even though the weather had been favourable and fine, he wanted to be prepared for the worst.

The progress they were making along the mountain tracks was tantalisingly slow, due to the fact of the constant rests that Sooty required, plus the extra weight they had accumulated, also they had stopped travelling in the midday heat, and the lack of mileage they were covering was a constant worry to Geoff.

On several occasions over the next few days they managed to stop on camp sites making use of the showers which was an unbelievable luxury for them. Plus they had access of all the other facilities that were available especially the restocking of provisions.

At times, they were forced to use the tarmac roads but, wherever possible, they kept to the country lanes and mountain tracks. Even then, on two occasions, they passed check points manned by the blue uniformed Carabinieri military police. They nervousley slowed down but they were never stopped, just waved on by the bored officials.

To the semi-military police they were just two of the many cyclists on mountain bikes loaded down with rucksacks touring the area and definitely not bank robbers or desperate armed terrorists.

Geoff found that the fall from his bike near the villa when being chased by the young heavy had damaged his mobile but, fortunately, it still showed his collection of phone numbers. He had borrowed a mobile on the camp site from one of a group of Australian students which had cost him a round of drinks.

He had not been able to make contact with either Derek or John Bolton, because of the high surrounding hills there was no signal so he had decided to text them, just to say that he hoped they were okay and that they; Geoff and Sooty had hit a minor problem on their journey but they were coming the long way around. They were on their way they were safe and would contact them in several days' time. Signed G&S. He was hoping that when the owner of the phone obtained a decent signal his text would be sent.

It worried Geoff, it had been over a week and he had not been able to make contact with the Bolton brothers, he hoped this journey with all its problems and the pain that his mate Sooty had endured was not in vain. While he and Sooty had been struggling over the mountains, Derek and John Bolton could be languishing in some Italian or Austrian jail. But then he and Sooty were trapped by circumstances and had nowhere else to go. They could only head for Austria and hope to make contact with their friends, they were running out of options and far more importantly, he was running out of cash.