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“The Afghans? Is it them?”

Veep said, “No way. The guy was a tall Caucasian, dressed like he was on a security contract. Definitely not the Afghans.”

“So someone’s helping him. We need to get a box on this building right now. Don’t let them out. I got the front door. Find the back.”

They took off through the alleys and I called Jennifer, saying, “Koko, we’re at a place called the Marco Polo House and we’ve made contact. Give me what you know.”

I heard nothing for a second while she worked the computer, then she came back, saying, “It’s a museum, but it’s not open now. Doesn’t open until ninea.m. It’s supposedly the house Marco Polo lived in.”

I said, “I don’t care about its pedigree; the target is inside and we have the front door locked down. How can he get out?”

“Stand by, checking. Knuckles is coming.”

I called the team, “Blood, Veep, status?”

“Trying to find the back of the building. The house itself cuts the alleys in half, and the ones we are on are running parallel. Trying to find a cutoff.”

I said, “Koko, anything?”

“They can get out over the roofs from the third floor, but they’ll be trapped and unable to get down after a few buildings. They can jump out the window on the second floor to a courtyard, and they have a clean run to the end of the island.”

I said, “All elements, all elements, it’s the window. Get to the back. They’re probably jumping now.”

Veep came back, saying, “We can’t find a perpendicular alley.”

I heard a noise behind me and saw Knuckles running up. He said, “You were going to let me sleep through the high adventure?”

I said, “No. Get ready.”

On the net, I said, “I’m going in.”

Jennifer said, “Wait for backup, Pike.”

“Knuckles just showed up. They aren’t coming out the front, and going in that way would be the last thing they would expect. Veep, Blood, continue to the back.”

I turned to Knuckles and said, “You ready?”

“What are we up against?”

“At least one guy with a suppressed pistol”—meaning the people inside had some skill—“maybe more, but I don’t think so. He took a few shots at Blood and Veep, but didn’t continue the fight. He’s here for Branko just like we are, and he’s trying to run.”

He glanced around the corner and said, “Stairwell to the second floor?”

“Yep.”

He shook his head and said, “Man, I hate stairwells. Get on them, and you’re committed.”

“You can have low.”

He racked a round into his own suppressed Glock and said, “Won’t get any arguments from me.”

We took off running with him in the front. He knelt down behind the stone banister on the right, his weapon trained on the entrance of the door, and I went up the stairs on the left, running flat out, knowing he was my protection. I reached the top, rolled to the left of the frame where the knob was, and took a knee, now with my barrel on the door.

In seconds he was on the landing, his own barrel out on the right side of the frame. I looked at him, he nodded, and I reached forward, turning the knob and flinging open the door. He flowed in with me right behind him, he went left and I went right, but there was nobody there. It was an empty room with plaques on the wall and display cases circling the area.

Knuckles nodded to a room off the back and we flowed that way, clearing the same way as before. It was empty yet again, but this one had a display case overturned and an open window, the curtains blowing in the wind.

I went to it and looked out, seeing Brett and Veep rounding the corner into the courtyard. They looked up at me, weapons aimed, and I waved them off, saying, “Shit. They’re gone.”