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His attention was on a pair of carabinieri--- Italian militiamen--- who were walking slowly among the tourists, their submachine guns slung across their chests.
Lots of police, he murmured.
Its the holidays, Smith replied. They always add extra patrols. Yuri...
I have something to tell Mr. Klein, Jon, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every Danko leaned across the table. What cynthia woods mitchell pavilion
going to do--- I never would have believed it. Its insanity! What are they going to do? Smith demanded, trying to control his tone. Whos they? Danko looked around nervously. Have you made the arrangements? Can you get me away from More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every here? We can leave right now. As Smith dipped into his pocket for his cynthia woods mitchell pavilion
he noticed the two carabinieri moving between the café tables. One laughed as though the other had made a joke, then motioned in the direction of the sandwich bar. Smith counted out some lire, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every placed the bills under a plate, and was about to push back his chair when the universe exploded. Jon! Dankos nurses day
was cut short by the brutal sound of automatic weapons fired at point-blank range. After passing the table, the two carabinieri had whirled around, guns blazing. Death More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every spat from the two barrels, riddling Dankos body, the force of the bullets slamming him into the back of his chair, then flinging it nurses day
had barely enough time to register the carnage before he threw himself in the direction of the small grandstand. Bullets stitched More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every the stone and wood around him. The pianist made the fatal mistake of trying to stand up; a fusillade cut him in half. Seconds seemed to move as though trapped xavier fulton
honey. Smith could not believe that the killers were taking so much time, working with More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every deadly impunity. What he did know was that the grand piano, its glossy black frame and white keys horribly splintered, was saving his life, absorbing burst after burst of military-grade bullets. The killers were professionals; they knew shel silverstein poems
they had run out of time. Dropping their weapons, More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every they crouched behind an overturned table and ripped off their military jackets. Underneath, they wore gray and tan windbreakers. From the pockets, they pulled out fishermens caps. Using the bystanders panic as cover, they broke and raced toward the Florian Café. As best doctors
burst through the More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every front doors, one of them yelled: Assassini! They are killing everyone! For the love of God, call the polizia! Smith raised his head just in time to see the killers plunge into the screaming crowd of café patrons. He looked back at Danko, lying on his More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every back, his chest shredded. cynthia woods mitchell pavilion
low animal growl rose in Smiths throat as he leaped off the grandstand and elbowed his way into the café. The herd swept him away to the service doors and into the alley at the back. Gasping, Smith looked frantically in More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every both directions. On the left, he caught a glimpse of shel silverstein poems
jackets disappearing around a corner. The killers knew the area very well. They cut down two twisting alleys, then reached a narrow canal where a gondola was tied to a pier post. One jumped in and More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page More Page Jonathan Van Every grabbed the oar, the other slipped the rope. In seconds they were moving down the canal. The xavier fulton
who was oaring paused to light a cigarette. A simple enough days work, h.
