Juan said, “Hold up a minute. You’re saying we’ve got someone out there competing with us for the kill?”

“By appearances, yes, and that takes us back to the question of why our target would have gone out of his way to ensure we know where to find him, and that answers Aaron’s original point. Just because he left us alive doesn’t mean he intends to keep us alive. Either he knows there’s a threat bigger than us gunning for him, or he expects some kind of foul play from the people he’s meeting tomorrow, maybe both. Regardless, we’re firepower and distraction. He’s setting us up to do his work for him.”

With that she stopped. There was nothing more to say.

Nick stayed silent.

The room stayed silent.

The silence grew until it took on a life of its own.

Aaron was the first to speak. He said, “Republic Square, that’s a busy, kind of high-end shopping part of town, isn’t it? If anything goes down that requires more than a round or two, we’re going to blow our cover. I mean, there’s really not much worse we could do to announce to the Czechs that we’re here, right? So does keeping this operation dark rank higher or lower than taking out target?”

The question sucked what little oxygen was left out of the room and proved Aaron was capable of thinking strategically when he wanted to, which made Kara detest him a little less, but his question wasn’t really the question.

He knew, they all knew, that if the op went sideways, they were on their own.

This was the tact in him finally surfacing, asking if they’d just been deliberately fucked over. She answered yes the only way she knew how.

“Target takes priority,” she said.

Nick said, “You sent all this in?”

She glanced at her wrist. “About an hour ago.”

He said, “We recon. We set up for the hit. I’ll take this to command for clarification, but unless something changes, we’re still go.”

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 18

Hradany
Prague, Czech Republic

HOLDEN

THE BAR WAS SMALL AND NARROW, A RECENTLY UPDATED AFFAIR IN A centuries-old building, the type of place that catered to neighborhood regulars by the generation, which guaranteed his face stood out the moment he stepped in, but the bar was the fastest way behind the walls. He paused at the threshold in a beat of acknowledgment for the sideways glances, a beat that placed every barstool and beer mug in snapshot threat assessment.

Three men at the counter, focus on the television at the far end.

Young couple preoccupied at a tiny table against the right wall.

Early evening. Sparse crowd.

That would change as the night wore on.