“This way!” Mila called out.
Quinn looked up. She was a floor above him. Her feet were on Julien’s building while her hands were pressed against the one on the other side of the gap. She was working her way toward the roof two more floors above. It wasn’t exactly the best escape route ever, but better than any of their other choices.
Quinn moved out and joined her. He’d made it about half a floor before Nate exited the apartment and started climbing behind him.
There was no question they were in a race against time. If the others stuck their heads out the window before the three of them reached the top, it was all over.
Hand, foot, hand, foot, up, up, up.
Quinn kept glancing down at the opening into Julien’s apartment.
Any second now.
He was so focused on watching for the danger below that he wasn’t paying attention to his own position. As he reached up, he found nothing for his hand to grab on to.
The top! Dammit!
He tried to snag the edge, but his balance was off and he started to swing to the side. Suddenly, a hand thrust out and grabbed his wrist, steadying him.
“I got you,” Mila said.
He clamped on to the lip of the building and let his feet drop against the wall so that he was dangling high above the ground. Pushing up with his arms, he swung his legs over the edge, and rolled onto the safety of the roof.
“Thanks,” he said to Mila.
She grunted in response as she moved a few feet away, her gaze suspicious.
Quinn glanced back into the gap just in time to see Nate grab for the top. He guided Nate’s hand up, then hooked him beneath the arms and pulled. As he did, a head appeared out of Julien’s window. The man looked down first, then twisted around and looked toward the sky.
“Hang on,” Quinn said, yanking as hard as he could.
Just as Nate cleared the edge, two bullets slammed into the wall inches from where he’d been.
“Had to leave the bag,” Nate said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Nate glanced around. “Where’s the girl?”
“What?” Quinn twisted around, his head jerking side to side.
Mila was gone.
Near the middle of the roof was a small structure that undoubtedly served as roof access for a set of stairs. But using them would be suicide. They were on the building right next to Julien’s. Trying to leave from it would be a foot race they’d lose for sure. He couldn’t imagine that Mila hadn’t realized that, too.
He stood up and quickly scanned the surrounding roofs. “There,” he said with relief.
She was one building away and preparing to hop across to the roof of another.
He sprinted after her, with Nate only a step behind him. They jumped to the next building without breaking stride.
“Wait!” Quinn yelled.
Mila didn’t even look back.
The next gap was wider. They had to stop, back up a bit, then make a run at it and jump. By then, Mila was already on the adjacent roof, but instead of continuing on, she headed for the building’s stairwell door.
“Mila, no!”
Again, she acted as if she hadn’t heard him.
“I got her,” Nate said.
In a burst of speed, he raced past Quinn, jumped the next gap, and made a beeline for the access door Mila had just gone through. As Quinn ran after him, he could hear sirens heading in their direction. Someone had called the cops. Normally, that would have been a problem, but in this case, unless the ones shooting at them were complete idiots, they would be forced to make themselves scarce. Anything that accomplished that would be a good thing.
He rushed through the door and onto a small landing, quickly grabbing the handrail to keep from losing control. He’d expected to hear the steps of the other two pounding down the stairs somewhere below him, but what he heard instead were the unmistakable sounds of a struggle.
He found them lying on the third-floor landing. Nate was behind Mila, his arms wrapped tightly around her, and his legs entwined in hers so she couldn’t kick out. That wasn’t stopping her from trying, though, or from attempting to head-butt him in the chin.
“I could use a little help,” Nate grunted as Mila jammed her head back again.
“You can let her go,” Quinn said.
“Are you sure?”
“She’s not going anywhere.” To make certain of that, he blocked the flight of stairs leading down.
Mila went on struggling as if she hadn’t heard Quinn.
“Relax,” Nate told her.
As he let go, he scooted away to avoid being hit. She rolled onto her hands and knees, and jumped to her feet.
“Get out of my way!” she yelled at Quinn.
He held his ground. “We’re not going to hurt you.”
“Then why did your partner tackle me?”
“Wasn’t exactly something I wanted to do,” Nate said, standing.
Quinn could see several red marks on Nate’s neck and face, and what looked like teeth marks on his hand. He focused on Mila.
“What the hell were you thinking showing up again? You’re going to get yourself killed for sure this time.”
Her jaw clenched, she said, “I don’t care. I don’t have a choice.”
“What are you talking about? Mila, do you want to really get killed this time?”
She stepped toward him and tried to push him to the side, but he wouldn’t move. “Please. Get out of my way.”
“I can’t.”
“Move!”
“I can’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because Julien’s not alive to save you from yourself. It’s my job now.”
When the call came in, both Peter and Olsen were in their shared office.
Peter checked the ID.
“Is it them?” Olsen asked.
Peter nodded, then picked up the call. “Report.”
“The team we’d designated Group C turned out to be a direct hit,” Michaels said.
“Is that so?”
“They led us to an apartment, and a little while later, the woman arrived.”
Peter knew Julien and Mila had been close, and that Julien had lived in Rome up until his death. Where, exactly, Peter hadn’t been able to find out. It had been a risk to send the team there, but it’d been the only lead Peter had. After that it had been up to Michaels to find out who else might be working in the city, and perhaps helping the woman. Peter was happy it had paid off.
“Did you get her?”
Michaels hesitated. “No.”
Peter forced himself not to look at Olsen. “Go on.”
“We gave her some lead time, then followed. When we broke down the door, we ended up exchanging fire with the two men we’ve apparently been tracking. Unfortunately, they made their escape through a back window. And…”
When his team leader didn’t go on, Peter said, “Michaels?”
Though he could hear the other man breathing, Michaels still said nothing. That’s when Peter realized the man must have information he wanted to give Peter, but wasn’t sure he should be relaying it over this call. Peter said, “It’s clear-to me, anyway-that they’ve been working together.”
It wasn’t quite standard code, but Michaels got the message. “I’m only talking to you?”
“Right,” Peter said.
“Okay. I got a glimpse of the guys with her. They were a couple dozen feet above me, and backlit by the sky, so not easy to get a good read on them, but…”
“Yes?”
“I can’t be sure, but one of them stuck his head over the edge of the roof, and, well, I think it might have been…Quinn.”
Quinn? What would Quinn be doing in Rome with a woman he was supposed to have disposed of years ago? “Is that a positive?”
He could hear Michaels take a breath. “Sixty percent, maybe. I wouldn’t put it much more than that.”
Low, but still more than Peter liked.
“I can tell you one thing,” Michaels said. “The apartment belonged to the Frenchman. There were pictures inside of him, some with the woman, some without.”