Free The Dolomite Solution by Trevor Scott Page B

who in the fuck you’re dealing with,” the larger man said, his eye shifting uncontrollably to one side. “I’m gonna screw you royally.”
    She laughed and aimed the gun toward the man’s crotch. “Not if you have no dick.”
    The man glanced downward, started to cover himself and instead backed up. “I’ll find you. You can bet on that.”
    Toni moved to the back of the BMW, her gun still trained on the men, who were now nearly to the shrubs at the side of the building. “Professor Scala. You have to trust me. Go to the black Alfa with me and I’ll explain everything.”
    He wasn’t sure what to think. First two men force him off, then a beautiful woman steals him at gunpoint. She was definitely the better alternative. He hurried to the car and got in.
    Meanwhile, Toni shot out both left tires on the BMW and then got behind the wheel and pulled away from the curb, her tires squealing and burning.
    When she met up with via Botticelli, she turned right onto Viale Romangna, the wide avenue separated by a broad strip of trees, and then slowed down like the rest of the traffic. Through the trees she could see two police cars, their blue lights flashing, heading toward the university to investigate the shots she had fired.
    The professor was clutching the briefcase on his lap, unsure what to say.
    Toni broke the silence. “I’m sorry about that, professor. Those men would have killed you.”
    â€œThey were from Interpol,” he said.
    She laughed. “That’s what they said?”
    â€œI saw their identification,” he pleaded.
    â€œYou saw a fake I.D.” There’s no way those two were Interpol. She thought for a moment, wondering how much she should tell him. “Why would Interpol want you?” She glanced at him, but kept her eyes on the road.
    He shrugged. “I don’t know.”
    â€œThey wanted you to go quietly in broad daylight. Without you making a fuss. They were sent to kill you, after you gave them what you have in that briefcase.” She glanced down at the case he was clutching and then back to the road.
    â€œThat’s absurd.”
    Toni circled a roundabout and turned onto Viale Lombardia, picking up speed again.
    She knew he wasn’t buying any of this. “All right. You were about to drive to Linate Airport, have a glass of red wine, since you hate flying, then board Alitalia flight 329 for Innsbruck, where Leonhard Aldo was set to pick you up. You would then go out to dinner, have a few good Austrian beers, and discuss your presentation to Tirol Genetics tomorrow morning. Stop me when I get something wrong.”
    His eyes were wide with concern, yet he somehow looked like a little child who had been caught stealing candy from a store, and whose mother was lecturing him. Finally he muttered, “How do you know all of this?”
    She didn’t answer. She turned onto Autostrada 4 toward Bergamo and immediately picked up speed. When she was safely cruising out of the city, she sighed and said, “I can’t tell you. But you must believe that I’m a friend and I’m on your side.” She gave him her most sincere expression, and she meant it.
    â€œSo, I am to trust you?”
    â€œI’m all you’ve got.”
    â€œI could go to the police.”
    She laughed.
    â€œAll right. Forget that. Everyone knows how corrupt they can be.”
    She could tell he was thinking it over, trying to break free all those intellectual synapses, but was coming up with nothing. He was used to taking empirical data, synthesizing the variables, and then coming up with the results. But this...there was no logic to it.
    She didn’t want to tell him about his colleague until she had gained some trust. Without that, he would never believe her. She thought back over the last week or so as she had watched the two scientists in the Dolomites. At first she had been disturbed that they had