of an approaching automobile. A sedan swung casuafly off the road into the parking area. In the front seat was a couple, the man's arm draped over the woman's shoul- der. The headlights shone directly on the immobile bodies on the pavement, the spill illuminating the shattered window of the stalled car and the bloody head inside.
The driver whipped his arm off the woman's shoulder, pushing her down on the seat, and gripped the steering wheel with both hands. He spun it violently to the right and sped back into the road, the roar of the motor echoing throughout the woods and the open space.
"They'll reach the police," said Bray. "Let's get out of here." "I submit it would be best not to use that car," replied the KGB man.
"Why not?" "Winthrop's chauffeur. You may trust him. I'm not sure I do." "That's crazyl He was damn near killedl" Taleniekov gestured at the dead men on the pavement. "These were marksmen, Russian or American, it makes no difference, they were experts-the Matarese would employ no less. The windshield of that limousine was at least five feet wide, the driver behind it an easy target for a novice. Why wasn't he shot? Why wasn't that car stopped? We look for traps, Beowulf. We were led into one and we didn't see it. Perhaps even by Winthrop himself." Bray felt sick; he had no answer. "We'll separate. It's better for both of us." "Corsica, perhaps?" "Maybe. You'll know if I get there." "Very well." "Taleniekov?".'Yes?" "Thanks for using the matches." "Under the circumstances, I believe you would have done the same for me." "Under the circumstances... yes, I would." "Has it struck you? We did not kiH each other, Beowulf Agate. We talked." "We talked." A ]one siren was carried on the cold night wind. Others would be heard soon; patrol cars would converge on the killing ground. Both men turned away from each other and ran, Scofield down the dark path into the woods beyond the rented car, Taleniekov toward the railing that fronted the ravine in Rock Creek Park.
Chapter Eleven
PART II
The thick-beamed fishing boat plowed through the chopping swells like a heavy awkward animal dimly aware that the waters were unfriendly. Waves slapped against the bow and the sides sending cascading sprays over the gunnels, the tails of salt whipped by the early morning winds into the faces of men handling the nets.
One man, however, was not involved with the drudgery of the catch. He pulled at no rope and manipulated no hook, nor did he join in the cursing and laughter that were byproducts of making a living from the sea. Instead, he sat alone on the deck, a thermos of coffee in one hand, a cupped cigarette in the other. It was understood that should French or Italian patrol boats approach, he would become a fisherman, but if none did he was to be left by himself. No one objected to this strange man without a name, for each member of the crew was 100,000 lire richer for his presence. The boat had picked him up on a pier in San Vincenzo. The vessel's schedule had called for a dawn departure from the Italian coast, but the stranger bad suggested that if the coast of Corsica were seen by dawn, captain and crew would have a far better catch for their labors. Rank had its privileges; the captain received 150,000 lire. They had sailed out of San Vincenzo before midnight.
Scofield twisted the top back onto the thermos and threw his cigarette over the side. He stood up and stretched, peering through the mists at the coastline.
They had made good time. According to the captain they would be in sight of Solenzara within minutes; and within an hour they would drop off their esteemed pas senger between Sainte-Lucie and Porto Vecchio. No prob lems were anticipated; there were scores of deserted in lets on the rocky shoreline for a temporarily disabled fishing boat.
Bray yanked on the cord looped around the handle of his attach6 case and strapped it to his wrist; it was firmand wet. The string burn on his wrist was irritated by the salt water, but it would heal quickly, actually aided by the salt. The precaution might seem unwarranted, but the appearance of it was as valuable as the attachment. One could doze, and Corsos were known to be quick to relieve travelers of valuables-especially travelers who journeyed without identification, but with money.