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impact sent him rolling to the side. A moment passed. His oxygen-starved lungs screamed. Four hands
    wrapped around his arms, grabbed his shirt, pulled him to his feet. Still winded, he stumbled backward into the BMW's rear fender.
    "Don't get your fucking blood all over my ride." Milano grabbed the back of Paolo's shirt and yanked downward.
    Paolo stumbled, then steadied his footing. Endrizzi launched another attack. Paolo arched back, avoiding the man's right fist. Endrizzi, the least fit of
    all of them, stumbled forward, lost his balance, and fell to the ground.
    Milano pulled his pistol and stepped back toward the spot where Endrizzi scrambled to get to his feet. He gestured with the firearm toward a narrowing path
    that led east. There was enough light left to follow the path to a point where it curved to the north. Beyond that, it was anybody's guess. They might have
    a barn back there. Or shovels waiting. Maybe a hole had been dug in advance for this kind of situation.
    "Start moving."
    Paolo refused to budge.
    Both men approached, stopping a few feet short. Endrizzi had pulled his .22. Lethal, if he got close enough. After missing with the punch, he wouldn't even
    try.
    "Let's go," Milano said again.
    "Do it here," Paolo said.
    Milano glanced around. "That the way you want it?"
    Paolo said nothing.
    "Then kneel."
    Paolo didn't. He knew that they were too close to the road for either man to consider firing off a round. If he kneeled, it would put him in a position of
    weakness. They'd bludgeon him. And without his hands, he couldn't do anything to stop them from doing so. Standing, he could dodge, strike with a kick, and
    perhaps use one of the guys' momentum against them.
    "Kiss my ass." Paolo launched a spray of bloody saliva toward the men.
    A crack of thunder and flash of lightning and searing pain hit all at once. His ears rang with a chorus of angels all hitting a high C. A warm, fresh
    stream ran down his left arm. He grimaced and looked away from the searing wound in his shoulder.
    "What the hell are you doing?" Milano shouted at Endrizzi. "God dammit." Panicked, he raised his firearm and aimed it at Paolo.
    Paolo refused to go down like this, hands bound, in the woods. No way would he allow them to drag him deeper into the woods and bury him in a grave shallow
    enough for the scavengers to feast on his remains. That wouldn't happen. Not today. Not without a fight.
    He shuffled his feet, dropped down a few inches into a running stance, prepared to bolt forward and drive his shoulder or head into any part of Milano.
    Didn't matter where. As long as he at least knocked the man off balance. Any damage he managed was a bonus. Maybe Milano would get a shot off. Perhaps
    Endrizzi would squeeze off another .22 round. Best case, both men would go down, affording Paolo a running start.
    The evening went still. The crickets stopped singing. The cicadas shrill calls faded. Or maybe the ringing in Paolo's ear was so great he no longer heard
    them.
    No, the distant sound of tires rubbing asphalt proved he could still hear.
    Paolo lunged forward, cutting left, then right, like a running back dancing between three hundred pound linemen. Milano's eyes widened as he hurried to
    line up his shot. Endrizzi stutter-stepped backward and raised his arm.
    A single shot was fired.
     

Chapter 7
    Washington, D.C.

    "WELL LOOK WHO'S back and ready to work."
    Clarissa locked her computer screen and spun to the right in her chair. The building was never empty, but she was surprised to see Beck standing in her
    doorway. He smiled and offered a single nod.
    "Most people," Beck said, "would've gone home after their last day of training."
    "You should know by now that I'm not most people."
    "How'd you find it?"
    "Different than the last one I went through."
    "Well, different agencies and agendas and such."
    "What are you doing here so late?" she asked.
    Beck extended his arm toward an empty chair opposite Clarissa. "May I?"
    She nodded.
    He