Page 78 of The Medici Return

The horse seemed to respond and mustered a last burst of energy that caused another whelp of pain. The riderless horse came parallel.

Now.

He leaped from Leone, grabbing the mane of the other horse, searching for the reins. The crowd let out a collective sound of shock. His body slid off the sweaty animal and his feet brushed the track, boots skidding along. He clung to the mane, then found the reins and pulled himself up, settling on the new mount.

The nostrils blew out a burst of exhale with excitement.

Cheering began at his success.

Leone, seemingly sensing her race was over, had fallen back. The horse beneath him seemed nervous, unsure about the new rider.

But they had no time to get acquainted.

“Let’s go,” he told the animal in Italian.

And he pressed his legs together, signaling for speed.

THOMAS HAD PATIENTLY WAITED AS THE RACE HAD TURNED PROGRESSIVELYchaotic. Several horses had gone down, along with their riders. In other cases only the riders had been eliminated, one of whom had been from his errant gunshot. Malone was now right beneath him, but his horse was slowing, as if hurt. The angle for the shot was not right, as he was too far back from the open window to make any meaningful adjustment. To fire now would require him to lift the weapon from the table and approach closer to the window.

But that could risk detection.

And that was the one thing Ascolani had been emphatic about.

Draw no attention.

He raised his head and watched as Malone leaped from one horse to another. Now the American was spurring his mount forward, gaining ground on the remaining two horses. Only a matter ofseconds before they all found the second turn and the best angle for the shot returned. He pressed his eye to the rifle scope and waited. He knew from the first two laps that there would be about five seconds when the horses would be in a short straightaway, headed for the third turn.

His opportunity.

COTTON SWUNG TO THE OUTSIDE, THEN BACK INSIDE. THE HORSE’Sgiant strides swallowed up the track. They were making up time, closing the gap. He took the second turn faster than he should, taking advantage of the horses slowing around the sharp loop. They came out of the turn and he found himself clumped with the other two riders, the Porcupine one horse over.

No way to get to him. No way to stop him from winning. He had no choice. Only one alternative remained.

Just win the damn race.

THOMAS FIRED.

And missed.

He readjusted and fired again.

Another miss.

Both rounds had found the dirt in the track. Malone was zigzagging. Lots of unpredictable movement. He’d tried to anticipate where next, but failed. The horses were now around the third turn, again on the far side of the campo, out of reach. No more good opportunities would come for another try. Ascolani would not be pleased. But this entire endeavor had been questionable from the start.

Be smart.

He removed the rifle from the tabletop and broke the weapondown, replacing it back into the case. He zipped the top shut and left it on the bed, per Ascolani’s instructions.

He then closed and locked the window.

Time to leave.

COTTON’S EYES PRICKED FORWARD TO THE TRACK AHEAD, WHICHwas pitted with hoof marks from the first two passes. He was hoping he had an advantage since this horse had been running jockey-less for at least a lap, maybe more. Which might prove helpful for some added stamina. He kicked his heels into the horse, spurring the animal on. He also pushed the reins forward, which sent a signal to go faster. He had no connection with this animal, unlike Leone, but he leaned in close and tried some vocal encouragement.

“Come on. Run. Fast. Run,” he said in Italian, close to the ears, running one hand up and down the neck, the other clinging to the reins.

The horse responded, legs pounding the ground, and their speed increased. They rounded the final turn and thundered into the home stretch. About fifty yards to go. It was still not possible to take the Porcupine out. The only way to deliver on what he’d promised was to win the race outright. He and the other two horses were clumped together, moving in unison. He was on the inside, riding near the rails that separated the track from the crowd. The horse’s powerful legs swept over the track, each step as sure-footed as the one before. Hysteria swept the crowd. Arms were raised, voices shouting, all in unison.