Zoe climbed to her feet and punched every button on the elevator’s control panel. As the elevator doors started to close, Seth fired again and again at the second Salvation Army band member. The automatic ran out of ammunition as the doors closed. Seth sighed as the car began to ascend.

“Where are we headed?” he asked her, as he turned the pistol over in his hand and tried to locate the clip release.

“Up,” Zoe said. Seth slammed a fresh ammunition clip into the grip of the pistol. “Some of the lower floors have to be offices,” she explained. “And where there are offices, there have to be fire escapes.”

The elevator doors opened into a large cavernous room punctuated by glass-topped dividers. The room was filled with the quiet busy chatter of computers, calculators, printers, and the business of money. Seth quickly concealed the gun in the waistband of his trousers.

Zoe took in the scene, then stepped past him into the room. She walked over to a red fire alarm on the wall and pulled it. A bell began to ring. She screamed, “Feuer! Feuer! Feuer!” Fire! Fire! Fire!

An anxious murmur rumbled across the vast room. People began to rise from their seats. Seth grabbed the briefcase and joined Zoe. “Fire! We must get out! Fire!” The murmur rose to a loud excited babble. Some of the workers began to gather things from their desks. Women went for their purses. A tall man with authority engraved in his face stalked up to them.

“Look here,” he said angrily. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“Fire on the first floor,” Seth yelled. “Herr Mutters told me to come and evacuate the floor.” The man stiffened at the name of his superior.

“This is highly irregular,” the man replied. “I really must speak with Vice President Mutters himself.” He moved purposefully toward a telephone. The room, however, had erupted into chaos as people pushed and jostled toward an open door in a far corner. An alarm bell, no doubt actuated when the emergency exit had been opened, infected the room with a virulent sense of urgency. Zoe and Seth joined the masses of people, who were now near panic.

At the bottom of the fire escape stairs, the crowd milled about in a broad courtyard connected by alleys to other streets. The people were confused and hung about, talking in small groups. Many among the group complained loudly that they couldn’t see any smoke, some speculated that it must be another fire drill.

Seth and Zoe detached themselves from the crowd and walked slowly down one of the alleyways leading away from the Bahnhofstrasse. Wailing sirens grew louder—fire trucks no doubt, and perhaps police cars as well—if the bodies had been discovered.

The alley led them to a quiet street in the heart of Zurich’s old medieval quarter. They walked silently, each too stunned to talk. A half hour later they reached the underground parking garage on the Sihlstrasse, and minutes later, Zoe spotted the Volvo. Stratton waved.