He knew it, and so did Katsuro. There was no gloating, no words whatsoever, but his face, impassive until now, cracked into an ugly grin. He clutched Milton’s throat with his left hand and drilled him in the gut with his right, each fresh strike loosening his ankle, releasing the anchor that held him in place. Milton tried to butt him, but the left hand held him out of range. Katsuro squeezed, his fingers closing around Milton’s throat, constricting his windpipe and arteries.

Milton felt his leg go limp, his foot sliding out from behind Katsuro’s knee.

Katsuro grinned more widely, started to push harder, then stopped. The grin flashed into a frown of pain and then anger. Katsuro held Milton in place with his left hand, reached around with his right hand and clawed for something on his back. He turned sideways to Milton for a moment, and Milton saw a corkscrew sticking out of his shoulder. Sakura was standing in the balcony doorway, her hand held up, empty now. Katsuro twisted his hips and backhanded Sakura across the face, hard. Her head cracked around and she fell out of sight, hidden behind Katsuro’s considerable bulk.

It was a distraction, and that was all that Milton needed. He took his chance. Katsuro was holding him so that he could not advance, but he was not preventing him from sliding over the balcony. He held onto the rail with his right hand and kicked up, flipping over the side so that his legs windmilled through a full circle, the rail acting as a pivot. He locked in his grip, knowing he had seconds and no more, remembering the layout of the balconies and knowing that there was another just below.

He took a breath and then let go.

105

Milton fell, his legs cycling for a second until his left hand slapped against the rail of the balcony below, followed by his right. The sudden deceleration felt like it might tear the balls of his upper arm bones from their sockets, and the blaze of pain loosened his right hand enough that he fumbled the rail. He dropped again and grabbed at the rail of the next balcony, holding firm this time. He dangled for a long second from just his left hand, but then he found a spot between the glass balustrade and the floor of the balcony to jam the toes of his right foot. He grabbed the rail again with both hands and vaulted up and over it.

The balcony door was unlocked, and Milton slid it open and walked inside. The room was empty, with no personal possessions or suitcases that might have suggested that the guest or guests were absent.