The Doomsday Conspiracy by Sidney Sheldon

In the cab of the truck, Giuseppe was thinking about his passenger. The word was out about an American the authorities were looking for. His passenger had a French accent, but he looked like an American, and he dressed like an American. It would be worth checking out. There might be a nice reward.

One hour later, at a truck stop along the highway, Giuseppe pulled up in front of a gas pump. “Fill it up,” he said. He walked around to the back of the truck and peered inside. His passenger was asleep.

Giuseppe went inside the restaurant and made a telephone call to the local police.

Chapter Forty-five

The call had been routed to Colonel Cesar. “Yes,” he said to Giuseppe, “that sounds very much like our man. Listen carefully. He is dangerous, so I want you to do exactly as I tell you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Where are you now?”

“At the AGIP truck stop on the way to Civitavecchia.”

“And he’s in the back of your truck now?”

“Yes.” The conversation was making him nervous. Maybe I should have minded my own business.

“Don’t do anything to make him suspicious. Get back in your truck and keep driving. Give me your license number and a description of your truck.”

Giuseppe gave it to him.

“Fine. We will take care of everything. Now get moving.”

Colonel Cesar turned to Colonel Johnson and nodded. “We have him. I’ll have a roadblock set up. We can be there by helicopter in thirty minutes.”

“Let’s go.”

When Giuseppe replaced the receiver, he wiped his sweaty palms on his shirt and headed for the truck. I hope there won’t be a shoot-out. Maria would kill me. On the other hand, if the reward is large enough…He climbed into the cab of the truck and headed for Civitavecchia.

Thirty-five minutes later, Giuseppe heard the sound of a helicopter overhead. He looked up. It had the markings of the state police. Ahead of him on the highway, he saw two police cars lined up next to each other, forming a roadblock. Behind the cars were policemen with automatic weapons. The helicopter landed at the side of the road, and Cesar and Colonel Frank Johnson stepped out.

As he neared the roadblock, Giuseppe slowed the truck down. He shut off the ignition and jumped out, running toward the officers. “He’s in back!” he shouted.

The truck rolled to a stop. Cesar shouted, “Close in.”

The policemen converged on the truck, weapons ready.

“Don’t shoot,” Colonel Johnson yelled. “I’ll take him.” He moved toward the back of the truck. “Come on out, Robert,” Colonel Johnson called, “it’s over.”

There was no response.

“Robert, you have five seconds.”

Silence. They waited.

Cesar turned to his men and nodded.

“No!” Colonel Johnson yelled. But it was too late.

The police began firing into the back of the truck. The noise of the automatic fire was deafening. Splinters of crates began flying into the air. After ten seconds, the firing ceased. Colonel Frank Johnson jumped into the back of the truck and moved the crates and boxes out of his way.

He turned to Cesar. “He’s not here.”

Day Nineteen

Civitavecchia, Italy

Civitavecchia is the ancient seaport for Rome, guarded by a massive fort completed by Michelangelo in 1537. The port is one of the busiest in Europe, servicing all seagoing traffic to and from Rome and Sardinia. It was early in the morning, but the port was already alive with noisy activity. Robert made his way past the railroad yards and stepped into a small trattoria filled with pungent cooking odors and ordered breakfast.

The Halcyon would be waiting for him at the appointed place, Elba. He was grateful that Susan had remembered it. On their honeymoon, they had stayed in their room there making love for three days and nights. Susan had said, “Would you like to go for a swim, darling?”

Robert had shaken his head. “No. I can’t move. ‘Able was I, ere I saw Elba.’ ” And Susan had laughed, and they had made love again. And bless her, she has remembered the palindrome.

Now all he had to do was to find a boat to take him to Elba. He walked down the streets leading to the harbor. It was bustling with maritime activity, crowded with freighters, motor boats and private yachts. There was a landing for a ferryboat. Robert’s eyes lit up when he saw it. That would be the safest way to get over to Elba. He would be able to lose himself in the crowds.

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