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They left the café and crossed the street into the alley. She said, “No, I didn’t know you guys got a choice.”

They started speed-walking down the narrow lane and he chuckled, saying, “Everything is a choice. I’ve been shot at more times than I can count, but all of it was a choice. I could have been a case officer in Bermuda. I chose Sudan. And then I chose this team.”

They reached the back of the wall, the terrace above them, Jennifer honestly curious. She said, “So why?”

He looked at the small iron pipe leading up, the darkness closing in, and he said, “Because of you.”

“Me? What’s that mean?”

He looked at the wall, surveying the stone for holds, then went back to her, saying, “Because of what we just talked about. You do what’s right. You always have. It’s why I’m on this team. I could have done anything within the intelligence community. I came here.”

Embarrassed, Jennifer said, “I don’t know about that. I’ve had my own problems in this world.”

He smiled in the fading twilight and said, “Yeah. Yeah, you have. You got my back?”

She said, “Yes, of course.”

He grabbed the pipe and said, “Catch me if I fall?”

It was the same words she’d told Pike years ago right before she began a climb, the statement disconcerting. She said, “What’s that mean?”

He said, “Nothing. You think I’m going to wait on a woman to catch me?”

Now doubly confused, she started to retort, and saw him smile in the gloom, showing her the inside joke.

He said, “Race you to the top,” and began climbing.

She knew she couldn’t beat him using the same iron gutter pipe. It’s not like she could climb over him. She looked back down the alley, and then grabbed the rough-hewn stone of the wall. Within seconds, she was past him. She glanced in his direction a single time, seeing him smile, but spent the most of her focus on the holds.

There was no one to catch her if she fell.

She reached the terrace, pulled herself up just enough over the wall until she could view inside the house, and saw no threat. She knew that the lights inside would hamper anyone looking out, and lightly dropped to the floor of the terrace. Brett came over the wall right after her, saying, “Okay. You win.”

She smiled and keyed her earpiece, whispering, “Squirter control in place. Cleared to breach.”

Rodavan came out of the bathroom, saw Pushka behind one of the four laptop computers arrayed on the dining room table, and said, “You’re still working that problem?”

“Yeah. I had to make a call on this. Branko never came back here and I can’t get him on the phone.”

“So you passed our gateway to that Sphinx guy?”

Staring at the screen, Pushka slowly nodded, saying, “I know that’s going to piss off Branko, but I had to make a decision. In my mind it won’t even matter because the countdown is fire and forget. He probably won’t see it that way, though.”

Rodavan came around the table, looking at Branko’s computer. Lines of code were scrolling like something out ofThe Matrix. Allfour of the laptops were daisy-chained together via cables plugged into Thunderbolt ports. The only one standing alone was Branko’s MacBook.

The screen to Pushka’s right flashed an alert, and Rodavan went to it. He took one look and felt the panic flood. He said, “Someone’s coming up the stairwell.”

He turned the laptop to Pushka, showing three men sprinting on the stairs, guns drawn. Pushka stood up so fast his chair upended. He stared into the screen, seeing the hard faces and the intent. He said, “Time to go.”

“Pack out?”

“No. Destroy.”

Rodavan ran back into the bedroom, snatched up a go-bag he’d prepared, then raced to a switch on the floor, a cable leading from it to the first computer. He said, “You sure?”

Pushka, now getting his own bag, said, “Yes. Kill it.”

Rodavan hit the switch and smoke started streaming from the first computer, then the second. The front door exploded inward, with three men barreling inside, and Pushka screamed, “Escape plan!”