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“If Zollner stays after he delivers Lucia, they’re probably going to have an excellent sniper.”
“Great,” Lars said with a sigh. “This is going to be like storming the beaches at Normandy.”
“Yeah, but the Allies won on D-Day.”
“Yes… at the cost of 4400 men.”
“Cheer up,” I said with gallows humor. “We don’t have 4400 men, so it won’t be nearly that bad.”
Lars laughed bitterly, then took down my instructions for where to meet me.
As I got back in the car and started to drive again, I thought about what Lars had said.
If they have a good sniper, they can pick us off as we approach.
I had no doubt that Zollner was a good shot. The only reason he hadn’t killed me back in the woods was because he wanted me to bring my brothers to the slaughter.
This time, Zollner would be trying to kill me.
How could I possibly reach Lucia before I got shot?
As I pondered that question, the driver’s side door started rattling from the wind rushing over it.
I figured I must not have closed it properly, so I opened it up to slam it shut again –
And the instant I did, I got a burst of inspiration.
I immediately turned the car around, went back to the pay phone, and called Lars.
“Did something happen?” he asked in concern.
“Yeah. I got an idea.”
After I told him what I was thinking, he said, “That’s insane.”
Then he added, “Which is exactly why it might work…”
88
Two hours later, I was back in Treporti – the small town where my road trip with Lucia had begun.
The sun was coming up and I was exhausted from lack of sleep. I knew I should try to nap while I had the chance, but it was pointless to even try. My mind was racing a million miles an hour and there was no hope of shutting it off. All I could think of was Lucia and how scared she must be.
In the absence of sleep, I decided I should get some food in me, so I parked in front of a small café.
As I was getting out, an old shopkeeper came out of the place next door and started shouting at me.
“Hey – hey, that’s my son’s car!”
Shit.
In my exhaustion, I’d forgotten I’d stolen it.
What are the chances? I thought wearily.
Actually, in a small town like this… pretty good, actually.
“You STOLE that car!” the old man roared. “I’m calling the cops!”
