suicide. I mean, you do expect to give us a 'run.' It "You may count on it." She dropped the dress on the floor.
"I won't kill you, Antonia." She laughed quietly, derisively. "Oh, yes, you will. You and the Russian are the worst kind. In Bologna, they kill with fire in their eyes, shouting slogans. You kill with. out anger... you need no inner urging." I once did. You get over it. There's no compuLdon, only necessity. Please doWt talk about these things. The way you've lived is your stay of execution; that's all you need to know.
"I won't argue with you. I didn't say I couldift-or wouldn't-I simply said I won't. rm. trying to tell you, you don't have to run." The girl frowned. "Why?" "Because I need you." Scofield knelt down and picked up the dress, and gave it back to her. "All I've got to do is convince you -that you need me." "To save my lifeT' "To give it back to you, at any rate. In what form, I'm not sure, but better than before. Without the fear, eventually." " 'Eventually' is a long time. Why should I believe you?" "I don't think you have a choice. I can't give you any other answer until I know more, but let's start with the fact that the Brigatisti aren!t confined to Bologna. You said if you didn't go back, they'd come looking for you. Their... packs... roam all over Italy. How long can you keep hiding until they find you-if they want to find you badly enough?" "I could have hidden for years in Corsica. In Porto Vecchio. They would never find me." "That's not possible now, and even if it were, is that the kind of existence you want? To spend your life as a recluse in those godarnn hills?
Those men who killed that old woman are no different from the Brigades. One wants to keep its world-and its filthy little secret-and it will kill to do it. The other wants to change the world-with terror-and it kills every day to do that. Believe me they're connected to each other. That's the connection Taleniekov and I are looking for. We'd better find it before the maniacs blow us all up. Your grandmother said it: It's happening everywhere. Stop hiding. Help us. Help me." "There's no way I can help you." "You don't know what I'm going to ask." "Yes, I do. You want me to go backl" "Later, perhaps. Not now." "I won'tl They're pigs. He's the pig of the worldt" "Then remove him from the world. Remove them. Don't let them grow, don't let them make you a prisoner -whether you're in Corsica or here or anywhere else. Don't you understand? They will find you if they think you're a threat to them. Do you want to go back that way? To an execution?" Antonia broke away, stopped by the overstuffed sofa Bray had placed in front of the door. "How will they find me? Will you help them?" "No," said Scofield, remaining motionless. "I won't have to.%, "There are a hundred places I can go...
"And there are a thousand ways they have of tracing you.
"That's a liel" She turned and faced him. "They have no such methods." "I think they do. Groups like the Brigades everywhere are being fed information, financed, given access to sophisticated equipment, and most of the time they don't know how or why. They're all foot soldiers and that's the irony, but they'll find you." "Soldiers for what?" "The Matarese." "Madness!" "I wish it were but rm. afraid it isn't. Too much has happened to be coincidence any longer. Men who believed in peace have been killed; a statesman respected by both sides went to others and spoke of it. He disappeared. It's in Washington, Moscow... in Italy and Corsica and God knows where. It's there, but we can't see it. I only know we've got to find it, and that old woman in the hills gave us the first concrete information to go on. She gave up what was left of her life to give it to us. She was blind but she saw it... because she was there when it began." "Wordsl" "Facts. Names." A sound. Not part of the hum from the square below, but beyond the door.
All sounds were part of a pattern, or distinctly their own; this was its own. A footstep, a shifting of weight, a scratch of leather against stone. Bray brought his