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a normal day it would give tourists who climbed to its summit a view of the whole port. But tonight it was impossible to see much beyond a hundred feet.
    Will frowned, looked left and right along the road, watched cars move cautiously through the fog, glanced at the port behind him, and looked back toward the Potemkin Stairs and the few tourists he could see on it. He’d been told that this was the meeting place, but now that he was here it felt wrong—too busy, too exposed, with too many routes into and out of the place.
    An SUV passed him. He watched its taillights move away from his position and disappear into the thick fog. Glancing around again, he heard more engine noises; those sounded as though they belonged to other large vehicles, and they were moving fast. His heart missed a beat. Spinning to face the vehicles, Will saw two sets of headlights coming quickly toward him.
    In an instant, he knew exactly what was happening.
    He also knew that he had to allow it.
    Two SUVs skidded to a halt by his position; eight men jumped out and ran to him. The SUV that had passed him seconds earlier reappeared, reversing fast to his position before stopping. The men grabbed and twisted him, ran him backward to the SUVs, threw him into one of the vehicles, and slammed boots and knees against his head. Everything happened in less than six seconds. Then the SUVs lurched forward. Will was pinned to the floor of the vehicle by large and very strong men.
    It was impossible to see where they were going. Will looked at the two men who held him firm. Their faces were in darkness; they said nothing. They seemed quite professional, though Will wouldn’t know how good they were until he decided to do something.
    The three-vehicle convoy drove for an hour before stopping. A cell phone rang. One of the five men in Will’s vehicle pulled out his phone, listened to it, said nothing, then nodded at the two men holding Will. Doors were opened. Will was dragged out of the SUV and thrown onto the ground. Boots pressed his head against the frozen soil. The three SUVs were together, and the only light around them came from the vehicles. It showed that they were adjacent to a tree-lined road. Eleven men were on foot, all of them dressed in dark winter attire. One of them walked up to Will, nodded at the man pinning him down, took three paces away from them, and pointed a gun at Will’s head.
    Hands gripped Will’s chin and forced his body into a kneeling position. All but the man with the gun moved to form a large circle around him. Will and the man holding the weapon were in the center of that circle.
    Will raised his head and looked at the man holding the gun. “Fuck you.”
    The man smiled, took three paces forward, and kicked him in the chest, forcing him onto his back. Will’s muscles instantly tensed. He thought about trying to escape, but he knew the thought was pointless.
    The man punched the pistol into Will’s mouth and smiled wider; then his face took on a cold look. He pulled out the weapon and nodded toward some of the men. One of them hit Will on the back of the head with sufficient force to send him to the ground. Immediately after his face hit the road, a boot stamped on his neck and held him still. Hands rummaged through his overcoat and suit pockets. He had nothing in them except his wallet and passport. Both were removed.
    There was more rapid talking. The man with the gun moved in front of Will, crouched down, and tossed his passport and wallet onto the ground so that both were inches from his face.
    Will looked at the man and spoke through gritted teeth. “Do I pass the test?”
    The man said nothing for a while before nodding. “He had to be sure you were the right person and that you weren’t being followed. You’re in the outskirts of the village of Dalnik. Wait here.”
    The boot on Will’s head was removed. All of the men entered two of the vehicles, then quickly sped away, leaving Will alone on the ground with the