William Diehl - Sharkys Machine

Italy, 1944: A squad of American soldiers on a dangerous secret mission is ambushed and slaughtered... and a fortune in gold vanishes.

Hong Kong, 1959: An aging American colonel, haunted by his wartime past, is brutally murdered in a luxurious brothel.

Atlanta, 1975: The last survivor of the fatal World War II ambush in Italy is executed at point blank range in a parking lot.

Blowing away a crazed, gun-wielding drug dealer on a crowded city bus gets police detective Sharky bounced from the narc squad into the dreaded dregs of the department-vice. That's where he stumbles on a high-priced call girl and her pimp who are fleecing rich johns in an even higher-priced blackmail scam. Together with his "machine" of hard-bitten vice squad veterans, Sharky closes in for a big sting. He doesn't count on falling for Domino, his alluring target. Or falling into the middle of the murderous design she's a part of-involving a hot presidential candidate, the shadowy multimillionaire who's backing him, and the ice-cold assassin they're using to wipe out the past... before it blows their future to hell.

"Every chapter crackles with sex, violence, and corruption."

-The Washington Post

"Fast-paced, attention-holding, hard-hitting."

-Chicago Tribune

"A slam-bang ending that should shock the most jaded thriller reader."

-The Associated Press

24-CARAT ACTION!

VICTOR DELAROZA is the ruthless multi-millionaire kingmaker who caters to the whims and pleasures of the super-rich and the super-powerful..

DONALD HOTCHINS is the senator who wants power

the ultimate power in the land unaware that the woman he loves and the man whose money he needs, hide scandals so devastating that they could break him forever .

S H ARKY is the gritty cop from the Vice Squad who hears some shockingly obscene tapes that draw him into a world of lethal secrets and dangerous seductions .

And they all have a fatal weakness for ... DOMINO, ravishing, fascinating companion of millionaires and politicians Americas most bizarrely skilled and exclusive ca l lgirl .

It started one continent and three decades away and SHARKYS MACHINE is the superb, solid-bullion action-thriller that pulls it all together. Here is a world of stunning violence, outrageous sex, sinister intrigue and heart-stopping intercontinental adven tu re , announcing the mega - thrill explosion of a new major thriller-writing talent.

Also by William Diehl in Warner Books:

HOOLIGANS

WARNER BOOKS

A Warner Book

First published in Great Britain by

Hutchinson& Co (Publishers) Ltd 1978

Published by Sphere Books 1979

Reprinted 1979, 1982 (twice), 1983, 1985, 1986,

1987, 1988, 1990

Reprinted by Warner Books 1994

Reprinted 1995, 1996

Copyright 1978 by William Diehl

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced,

stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any

form or by any means, without the prior

permission in writing of the publisher, nor be

otherwise circulated in any form of binding or

cover other than that in which it is published

and without a similar condition including this

condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.

Printed in England by Clays Ltd, St Ives pie

ISBN 07515 1369

Warner Books

A Division of

Little, Brown and Company (UK)

Brettenham House

Lancaster Place

London WC2E 7EN

For my wife, Candy, with love and affection always

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To these special people for their love, encouragement, and support before and during the writing of Sharky:

to my mother and father; to my children, Cathy, Bill, Stan, Melissa, and Temple; to Carol, Temp. and Julie; to my dear friends, Marilyn and Michael Parver, Carole Jackowitz, Mardie and Michael Rothschild, Leon and Judy Walters, DeeDee Cheraton and Ira Yerkes, Arden Zinn, and Larry and Davida Krantz for The Nosh; to three generous and indulgent editors from the past, Al Wilson, Howard Cayton, and especially Jim Townsend; to Delacortes Helen Meyer, a legendary woman; and my new friends , Ross Claiborne and Bill Grose for their dazzling enthusiasm; to my editor, Linda Grey, whose warmth and kindness made it easy and whose brilliance made it better; but znost of all, to my dynamic and unerring agent, and devoted friend, Freya Manston, who made it all come true.

Our deeds will travel with us from afar,

And what we have been makes us what we are.

GEORGE ELIOT

PROLOGUE

Chapter One

NORTHERN ITALY, 1944

It had been dark less than an hour when Younger and the two sergeants finished loading their equipment on the three mules and prepared to head north towards Torbole and the rendezvous with La Volte. The young captain was excited, his eyes flashing as they smeared boot black on their faces. He was like a football player just before the first whistle blows, charged up, fiery with nervous energy. Harry Younger was perfect for this kind of cloak and dagger stuff; it was like a game to him. You could almost bear the adrenalin pumping through his veins. When they had the mules ready, Younger took out his map one more time and spread it on the side of an ammo box strapped to the flank of one of the miles and held his flashlight close to it. He went over the details once more and everybody nodded. The paisanos stood back from the group and smoked American cigarettes and said nothing.

When he was finished, Younger smacked his hands together and then ran one band through his crew cut several times and pulled his cap down over his head. Then he took Corrigon by the arm and led him away from the group, off by himself.

How ya doin, buddy-boy? he asked Corrigon.

Four-o, Corrigon said, but there was an edge in his voice.

Sure youre okay?

Yeah, yeah, fine, sir.

Youre not gonna choke up on me, are you, chum?

Corrigon smiled. I wouldnt dare, he said.

Thats mboy. Look, its a piece of cake, Corrigon. Ive done this, shit, half a dozen times. You been in here for two days, right? Not a sign of a fuckin Kraut anywhere around. Dont think about what might go wrong, think about how simple its gonna be.

Yeah, sure, Corrigon said. Will you knock off the pep t alk, for Christs sake!

Ill make you a bet. Ill bet we all come outa this with Silver Stars. I know this La Volte, see. Hes got every fuckin paisano guerrilla in north Italy up his sleeve. Itll be a little Second Front, up here. Theyll kick the Krauts in the ass and well be across the Po before Christmas.

Yeah, right, right. Corrigon tried to sound enthusiastic.

You know why I picked you for this end, Corrigon? Hunh? Because Pulaski and Devlin there, they been slug- gin it out all the way since Anzio. If anything goes wrong, were between you and the Heinies, if there are any. And we been in here now two days and not a sign, not even any recons overhead. Hell, buddy, God lost his galoshes in here. Nobodys gonna bother us.

Corrigon was beginning to feel a little better. You oughta be a coach, he thought.. Youd have the whole team playin with broken legs.

Feel better?

Corrigon nodded. Im okay, Captain. Believe me.

Younger laughed, his all-American smile flashing through the blackface. What the hell am I pumping you up for? Look, two days, well be back in Naples. Ill swing a seven-day pass for all of us out on Capri and the drinksll be on old Bud Younger.

Youre on, Corrigon said.

Younger slapped him on the arm. Dont break radio silence until youre set up. You wont hear from us unless theres trouble. When youre ready, give us a call and well be back at you. We wont be a anile away from you when they make the drop.