The BattleThe men rushed to the door.
I followed them down the stairs, across the front hall, and up the steps, then through the maze of corridors to the entrance, armed men joining us as we ran. We hugged the walls beside the main door as one of Cesare’s men quickly opened it.
And the fortress was indeed under attack.
The terrible rat-ta-tat-tat of the Tommy gun faced us, with only the columns and a foot-thick four foot high barrier protecting the portico. The men guarding the portico were down, bleeding. And the men against us were advancing.
We crouched down, hurrying through the doorway then scattering to each side, chips of concrete, tile, and wood flying as the bullets hit. I hid beside a bush near the thick, heavy door, pulling it shut behind me with some effort while the others
