Leah noted that the others simply set off without comment. These were dangerous, angry, vicious men at best. Some had been described in the files as psychotic, yet they all seemed to have agreed in advance to let Lee Wolf be their leader and spokesman. She had hoped that when the six of them were together, there might be dissention, even old irritations that might flare up, but her hope that it would happen soon enough vanished. For now they were in perfect agreement.

With the vanishing of that hope came a new one. There had been six in the building, and because they were being agreeable, there were now only three. She studied the men left in the room. All three were of average size, slightly shorter than she was. She was relieved that McKinney had been one of the three to leave, because grappling with him would be impossible. He could overpower her instantly.

She kept looking, and watched Joe Lambert walk slowly along the arc of desks. After three steps he abruptly spun to look behind him at the people he had just passed, bringing the barrel of his rifle around with him as though he might shoot them if he caught them moving. He paused there, glaring as though he could read their minds.

Leah had played thousands of games, and she had a feel for other players’ movements, fakes, and feints. When Lambert resumed his walk, she knew that he was going to look again, just like a pitcher holding a runner on first base. She knew that this time he would take fewer steps before he did the surprise spin, probably two steps. She held the other captors in her vision for a second. Lee Wolf was looking toward the back of the audience section of the room, where an unobtrusive door seemed to interest him. James Holliman was sitting on the conference table with his left hand holding his rifle straight up, the butt resting on the table top. She returned her eyes to Joe Lambert. One step, two steps, and there was the turn.

As he pivoted toward the captives behind the arc of desks, Leah launched herself over the mayor’s desk behind him, her long arms snaking around him and squeezing him in a rough embrace. Her left arm hooked around his neck, and the right brought the letter opener around to stab it into Lambert’s chest. She felt the point pierce his shirt, but it stopped there because there was something under it. His torso hadn’t had the squared look of body armor, but something impermeable was under the cloth.