April wiped her hands on her pants and reached forward into the display case. She put a hand under each side of the Gutenberg and—in a motion so prolonged that it resembled a slow-motion replay—closed the book so that it rested on its spine. Two spring triggers could be seen in the space where the front and back covers of the Gutenberg had been.

“The two sides had to be lifted simultaneously,” Meng said, pointing the mechanism out to one of the other agents. “Or what?”

“I’ve never bothered to find out,” April said.

“Now put it in the briefcase,” Meng said, directing an agent. The agent opened a briefcase and set it on the floor at Meng’s feet.

“That’s really not a good traveling situation for—”

Meng cocked his gun.

April took the Gutenberg out of the display case and began inching toward the briefcase.

“You can move faster than that.”

“This book is over five hundred years old,” April said. “I can’t begin to explain to you how delicate it is.”

“Are you stalling?”

April leaned down and delicately placed the Gutenberg in the briefcase like she was laying a loved one in a casket. She straightened. “I guess I’m just not that anxious to die.”

The briefcase lid snapped shut, the sound of metal grasping metal echoing in every corner of the room.

“You know I can’t let you go,” Meng said.

“Please,” April said. “I swear I won’t tell anyone.”

Meng leveled his gun with her chest. “I wish I could believe you.”

“Please!”

“Wait!” Norman said.

Meng turned his head. “Do you have a problem?”

Norman put out his hand. “No . . . I just think it might be a mistake to kill her.”

“You’re right. It is a mistake for me to kill her.” Meng turned to one of the other agents. “Give him your gun,” Meng instructed him. The agent handed his gun to Norman. “Better your prints on that than mine, and you can be the one to explain the gunshot residue on your hands.” He lowered his own weapon.

“You might need her,” Norman said. “If she’s dead she’s no good to you.”

“Listen to him,” April said, pleading her case. “There are things you don’t know about the library. I can help—”

“Kill her,” Meng said.

Norman took a deep breath and leveled the gun at April. “Five. Four. Three. Two—”

“Now!” Meng screamed.

April closed her eyes.

An alarm shattered the quiet of the Great Hall, followed by a burst of rain from the ceiling. Norman shot a bullet past April’s right ear, placing it in the chest of the agent against the far wall. The agent crumpled. Meng lunged at Norman, but he was ready and struck Meng just below the chin with the butt of his gun. Meng fell, dazed.