She tensed, looking ready to bolt.
I think you should pray, he said, motioning her down.
Im Jewish.
And Im only here to help you. If you want it.
Again that calculating pause, but she slipped gently to her knees.
He whispered without facing her. They are watching each door out of here. When she tried to glance back, he tightened his voice. Dont.
She bowed her forehead to her hands. Who are you?
Nobody. I saw those armed men following you. I saw how scared you looked
I dont need your help.
He sighed. Okay. I offered.
He began to stand up, knowing he had done as much as his conscience demanded. He couldnt help those who were too proud or stubborn to accept it.
She reached low and pinched the sleeve of his jacket. Wait. When he settled back to his knees next to her, she asked, How do I know I can trust you?
You cant know for sure. He shrugged. Either you do or you dont.
She stared at him, and he met her gaze. I remember you. You were sitting at that patio with a dog.
That you noticed. Not the armed thugs trailing you.
She turned away. I like dogs. She was pretty.
He smiled into his raised palms, warming up to this woman. His name is Kane.
Sorry. Then he was handsome. She moved a little closer, sounding calmer. But what can you do?
I can get you out of here. Away from them. What you want to do from there is up to you.
That was one of his specialties.
Extraction.
She glanced over to him, swallowing hard. Then please, help me.
He held out his hand. Then lets get out of here.
How? she asked, surprised. What about?
His hand closed over hers, silencing her. Her palm burned like an ember in his. Just stay close to me.
He drew her back out of the pew, letting go of her hand but motioning her to stay behind him. In his other hand, he held a black KA-BAR fighting knife hidden alongside his leg. He had slipped the blade out of its ankle sheath as he knelt. He hoped he wouldnt have to use it.
He led her away from the main entrance toward a smaller exit on the south side of the church. He glanced sidelong toward the tall man. The hunter was already swinging away, touching his ear, plainly alerting the man guarding this door. Then his hulking form vanished out of sight as he swung around the church to join his comrade. They were likely planning on ambushing her once she stepped outside.
Once he was gone, Tucker abruptly turned, caught the woman around the waist, and swung her around.
What are you?
Change of plans, he said. Were going out the other way.
Without letting go of her waist, he hurried her toward the north -facing portal, hoping that the radioed message from the big man was drawing all eyes to the south, expecting her to exit there.
Once at the door, he paused. He held her back and checked his cell phone. Video bloomed to light on the tiny screen. Though the sun had set by now, the view through the night-vision camera was grainy but bright. It showed the plaza and the main entrance to the church as Kane stared toward where his partner had vanished, waiting patiently.
Good boy.
Satisfied, he stepped
toward the exit, hoping the guard posted out there had been tricked into retreating to the other side of the church, along with their leader.
And apparently his ruse worked, unfortunately not to his benefit.
The door swung open as Tucker reached for it.
The third hunter barged inside, plainly intending to take a shortcut across the church rather than around it, planning to bring up the rear behind his fleeing quarry.
Both Tucker and the man were equally caught off guard.
Tucker reacted first as the hunters eyes spotted the woman in the ivory coat and struggled to comprehend how she could be there.
Using that momentary confusion, Tucker lunged and barreled into the man with his shoulder, driving him back out the door and into a narrow dark alley. He slammed him against the brick wall on the far side, driving an elbow into his solar plexus, hard enough for the air to burst from his chest.
The man gasped and slumped, but he had enough wits to paw for a hidden weapon. Tucker spun, swinging his arm with all the strength in his shoulder. He struck the hilt of his KA-BAR dagger against the mans temple and drove him to his knees, where he fell limply on his face.
Tucker quickly searched him. The woman stepped out, too, smartly closing the door to the church, looking terrified.
For the moment, with the church mostly deserted, no one seemed to note the attack. He confiscated a FÉG PA-63 semiautomatic pistol, used commonly by the Hungarian police and military. He also found an I.D. folder topped with a badge and flipped it open, recognizing the mans face, but not the badge, though it looked official. Across the top it read Nemzetbiztonsági Szakszolgálat, and at the bottom were three letters: NSZ.
The woman gasped upon seeing it, recognizing it.
That cant be good.
He stared up at her.
Hes with the Hungarian national security service, she said.
Tucker took a deep breath and stood. He had just cold-cocked a member of the Hungarian FBI. What had he gotten himself into? Right now, the only answers lay with this woman.