the toilet and he aimed his stream making patterns in the dirt and dust to amuse himself. He shook himself off and pulled the chain. There was no water and he shrugged and pushed the door to when he left. He poked around the other buildings for another minute then looked across at an old building which must have served as a hangar years before.
Balotelli found himself at the foot of a flight of steps and he glanced up them. He thought for a moment about climbing them and decided aginst it. Whatever that Alfa Romeo was doing here it didn’t appear to be much. Probably a drug deal Balotelli decided and the participants long gone. The policeman hovered around for a few more moments then turned to leave.
Behind the door at the top of the stairs the man who had been replacing the locks stood silently with a Glock pistol in his hand. He watched through a crack in the door as the policeman turned to leave. His radio suddenly screeched at his hip. At the foot of the stairs Balotelli spun around and drew his gun from its holster. He moved up the stairs hugging the wall with his gun raised. At the top the man watching put the Glock in his pocket and picked up his cordless drill.
Halfway up the stairs Balotelli tensed as he saw the door move. He readied himself to rush up the remaining steps and burst through the door when he heard the sound of a drill. Relaxing slightly he lowered the gun though still holding it in both hands at his waist.
“Policia,” he called.
He heard the drill stop and Balotelli pushed the door open to be greeted by a man holding a drill while holding a large screw between his teeth. The man looked genuinely surprised. Balotelli rolled his eyes and holstered his Beretta.
“I nearly shot you!” he said, “I thought you were an intruder. What are you doing here Signori?”
The man with the drill took the screw out of his mouth.
“I’m fixing the lock,” he said in English.
“The lock?” Balotelli looked around at the state of the room.
“My boss has just bought this airfield and he wanted the lock repaired. This is the control room.”
“Yes. It needs a lot more than just the lock replaced. It’s not been used in years. Any of it.”
Balotelli watched the man for another minute as the lock was fiddled with.
“Who is your boss?” he asked.
The man stopped what he was doing.
“Pardon?”
“I asked you who your boss was.”
The other man looked at him for a moment.
“No one you would know.”
“Oh really? Try me.”
“He is a successful German businessman. No one famous.”
“German!” Balotelli nodded, “I like Germany. I’ve been there many times.”
Now it was the man with the drill who nodded.
Balotelli wandered closer to one of the crates.
“What’s in these?”
The man shrugged at the ammunition crates.
“Just equipment.”
He glanced towards the door to the other room where his two colleagues were hiding, no doubt with guns drawn. The man with the drill moved his hand closer to his pocket with his gun in it as Balotelli got dangerously close to the other door. Then he relaxed as Balotelli turned and smiled at him.
“Oh I almost forgot. Do you know anything about a speeding Alfa Romeo?”
“No. Sorry!” the man shrugged.
Balotelli smiled again.
“Well good luck! I must go,” he said cheerfully, “Ciao.”
The man with the drill just nodded. The drill poised. Balotelli put his hand up in a friendly gesture then left. The man with the drill rested his head against the door and blew out his breath in relief. The two that had carried the crate came back into the room.
“That was close,” one of them said. He had an MP5 machine gun across his chest. Balotelli suddenly burst back through the door.
“Hey I almost forgot. There’s no water in the downstairs….”
His voice trailed off as he saw the gun. Instantly his hand went for his gun as he reached for the radio at his left shoulder. The man with the MP5 was lightning quick and he swung the muzzle of his gun and sent a burst of machine gun bullets into the policeman’s chest throwing him backwards. Blood dribbled from Balotelli’s mouth as he slid down the wall.
Petrov bounded up the stairs two at a time with his Glock handgun drawn. He peered around the door then put his gun back in its holster when he saw the inert form on the floor. Two of his men were