She turned left at the next block and ducked into the vestibule of a shop.
He came around the corner a few minutes later, a heavyset man in his forties with thinning brown hair. He stopped cautiously, his eyes searching the street in front of him. His hand reached into his jacket pocket. She caught the gleam of metal.
A gun.
She didn't give him the chance to bring the gun out.
She jumped out of the vestibule and struck his arm with the edge of her hand. The gun dropped from his nerveless hand to the street. Then she followed through with a fist to his stomach.
"Bitch," he gasped. "I'll cut you to pieces, you-"
She gave him a karate chop to the back of his neck. He crumpled, but he had drawn a knife by the time he reached the ground. He lunged upward toward her.
Lord, she hated knives. She'd always had a horror of cold steel going into a body. She dodged to the left and then brought her palm crashing up under his nose. This time he didn't get up.
Dead?
Oh, yes. The splintered bones of his nose had entered his brain. She fell to her knees beside him and started searching through his pockets for ID and found a passport. Raoul Falbon.
"I saw a police car cruising a block behind us. I believe we'd better forget gathering the spoils and get out of here."
She stiffened, her gaze flying to the man who stood watching her a few yards away. She tensed, ready to spring, her hand moving toward the gun Falbon had dropped on the ground.
"Oh, dear." He drew a gun from his jacket. "I'm no threat but I really don't want to be treated to the same punishment as that poor fellow on the ground, Renata. Now shall we go? You don't want to talk to the police, do you? I certainly don't."
"Who are you?"
"Jed Harley. And I have no connection to Molino. To prove it, I'm graciously ignoring the fact that you're considering going for that gun on the ground. As soon as we have time to talk, I'll put my gun away. Deal?"
She shrugged. "Sure. I'd be very stupid to-" She dove forward in a roll and struck him in the knees and brought him down. The next moment she was on top of him.
"No, ma'am." He backhanded her and then bucked her off him.
Dizzy. She shook her head to clear it even as she dove for the gun beside Falbon.
He reached it before she did and threw it skittering down the street.
She bit his arm and reached for the gun still in his hand.
"Ouch. You little cannibal." He clipped her on the side of the head with the gun.
Pain. Ignore it. She came at him again and went for the jugular.
He grabbed her, spun her around, his arm around her neck jerking her head back. "Listen. I could break your neck. I don't want to do it."
"Because then I'd be useless to you," she said fiercely. "I couldn't tell you what you want to know."
"No, because my orders are to find you and keep you safe from Molino until you can talk to Neal Grady. Breaking your neck would be frowned upon." He added wistfully, "Though it might almost be worth it."
If she kicked backward, she might get him off guard. His grip had to loosen just a little and then she'd-
He sighed. "You're not going to give up, are you? I guess I'll have to resort to dire methods." He took her hand. "Stop struggling. You're getting what you want." She felt him closing her hand around something hard and metal. Then he released her and stepped back. "Okay, go for it."
She stared down at the gun he'd placed in her hand. "What are you doing?"
"You obviously have to be on top or you won't listen." He spread out his arms. "I'm at your mercy, Renata Wilger."
She frowned. "Is the gun empty?"
He smiled. "My God, I believe you're disappointed. Is it too easy for you? No, the gun has bullets and they're not blanks. What are you going to do now?"
She wasn't sure. The move had taken her by surprise. He had obviously meant to take her off guard and disarm her mentally if not physically. But she had never known a man who would take a chance like that.
"May I make a suggestion? I interrupted you while you were going through that deceased gentleman's wallet. Why don't you continue?"
"I have his passport and his name is Falbon. That's all I need to trace him."
"Then why not leave the scene of the crime and come with me to the Sheraton to see Grady and Megan Blair?"
"I don't consider killing Molino's men a crime." Her eyes suddenly widened. "Megan Blair? She's here in Munich?"
"At the hotel." His gaze narrowed on her face. "How do you know about Megan? Does that make a difference?"
She didn't answer either question. "Dammit, she shouldn't be anywhere near me. She might have led Molino here."
"Then tell her that yourself. She's not going to listen to me. I'm going to phone her." He slowly took out his phone, making sure that she could see that it was not a weapon. "Okay?"
She hesitated. Then she nodded her head. "But I won't go into the hotel. Tell her to meet us across the street in the park."
"Very smart. Then you can check her out and make sure that I'm not leading you down the garden path." He dialed the number. "Grady, I need you and Megan to meet me at the park across the street from the hotel in about an hour. I'll bring Renata Wilger." He listened for a moment and then smiled. His gaze wandered from Renata, still aiming the gun at him and then to the dead man crumpled on the street. "Oh, yes, I'm sure she's the right Renata Wilger."
HARLEY WAS WAITING UNDERNEATH a street lamp by a park bench when Grady and Megan came through the gates. He was alone.
Disappointment surged through Megan. "Where is she, Harley? Did you lose her?"
"No, and she didn't lose me." He took her arm and pulled her into the light. "Lift up your head."
"What are you doing?" Grady took a step forward.
"I'm not hurting her." He called out into the darkness. "Here she is. Delivered as promised. Come out, come out, wherever you are."
"That sounds like a children's game," Grady said.
"Hide-and-seek." Harley nodded. "But hopefully the seeking is over and she's not exactly hiding. She just doesn't trust us. That's why she has a gun trained on me. My gun."
" Your gun?"
"It's a long story." Harley called again, "Renata, you've had time to get a good look at Megan. Is it yes, or no?"
"How would she even recognize me?" Megan asked.
Harley shrugged. "Ask her." He was looking beyond her toward the bushes. "My dear girl, I understand your concern but it's really not polite to point guns at strangers. It makes them nervous."
"I'm not pointing the gun at them," the woman coming toward them said. "I'm just ready. How do I know that Molino isn't staking her out?"
Renata Wilger was younger than Megan had thought she would be. She was perhaps in her early twenties, small, slim, red-haired with a sprinkling of freckles over the bridge of her nose. Her brown eyes were glittering with fierce intensity as she stared at Megan. "And if you're not being used, you're either stupid or criminally negligent for coming here. Get the hell out of Munich and away from me."
What a little tigress. "You wouldn't have decided to come out of the bushes if you'd really thought Molino was using me to trap you. And I'm not going anywhere until I get what I want." She glanced at the gun Renata was holding at her side. "So give Harley back his gun and let's talk."
"Why should I want to talk to you? You've probably already ruined things for me here. I'm going to have to go on the run."
"Maybe not."
"She's right," Harley said. "She had another tail tonight besides me. She'd already disposed of him by the time I made an appearance, but his ID was Raoul Falbon. I sent a picture on my cell phone to Venable, that friend of Grady's at CIA headquarters, and he just got back to me. Falbon is for hire to the highest bidder, but he works extensively for Molino."
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