Page 40

The men walked right in the side door.
Nomad noted that Red could have come and gone from the back staircase without having to smile and be pleasant to the front desk.
The tradecraft was good. This hotel was clean but run down. The kind of setup where they’d have a sink and a toilet.Visitors would go to a hammam—a public bathhouse—to get cleaned up. There would be none of the modern amenities that the hotel up the street would have. No one would look for a Westerner here.
A huge step down in quality of stay. It would be tough to be sick in a place like this.
Not seeking relief from air conditioning and a shower would take fortitude.
Nomad knocked and then put his ear to the door lest someone mutter or moan in response. But the only thing he heard was the drip, drip of a leaky faucet.
The lock used an old-fashioned brass key. Their pickpocket tools weren’t going to work here. After examining the situation, the men decided that they weren’t getting into that room by kicking down the door, especially if Red had put her locking systems in place. They’d need a C4 blast, which was a no-go.
“Ideas?” T-Rex asked.
“Sob story to the front desk?” Havoc suggested. “We could always use some of the cash from the money bag. It’s just sitting there in the van.”
“They were adamant about preserving her cover. We need to keep our faces separate from her.”
“Look in the window?” Havoc asked. “Maybe there’s a ladder?”
“That might be wishful thinking,” Nomad said, “but why not come down from above?”
“I’ll go see if I can’t rent the room above hers.” T-Rex went down the outside stairs so he could enter through the front door.
Havoc and Nomad waited in the hallway.
Standing there, Nomad knew Red was inside.Knew it. And he knew it was for him to get to her and save her.
Hang in there, Red. I’m coming.
Chapter Fourteen
Nomad
T-Rex was back with an old-fashioned brass key.
“What’s the plan?” Havoc asked.
“You stay here, Havoc. I’m taking New Guy upstairs with me. There’s someone in the room above, but I was able to get the one above that.”
“No rope,” Nomad said. “On the way in, I checked. There’s not enough ledge for me to hang from the window and get my toes on the sill.”
“We make do.” There was a twinkle in T-Rex’s eyes. “We tie the sheets together. I hold them on one end, and you dangle from the other. You should be able to see and report the situation.”
Sheets. Fair enough. While he trusted T-Rex’s strength, Nomad weighed in at two sixty-five. Those sheets had better have a damned high thread count, or he’d be plummeting from the fourth floor.
Once they were upstairs and dragging the comforter off the bed, it was evident that pulling those sheets off was a no-go. They were threadbare and patched already. Instead, the men yanked down the drapes, cut them into strips, lashed them together, then braided them into a rope.
The shutter-style window opened inward; Nomad straddled the ledge. Looking over his shoulder, it was a long-damned way down, and there was nothing, not even a heap of garbage, to break his fall.
Those thoughts came and went as Nomad adjusted into position, moving with the precision of a man who had done this a thousand times before.
Nomad felt the pressure of time and knew he had to get to Rednow.
He dropped the roping down the wall, checking that there was sufficient length.
“Good?”