Gunfire racketing behind them, the two men grappled in the narrow space of the entryway, both their rifles clattering to the floor, their arms and shoulders banging against the partially open door, slamming it repeatedly back into the wall. Then Ricci saw Kuhl reach down with his right hand, saw the truncheon in his belt scabbard, and tried to grab his wrist to keep him from getting a grip on it. But Kuhl was too fast. He pulled it from the scabbard, brought it up, half-turned again, and thrust its blunt hardwood tip into Ricci's solar plexus.

Ricci tightened his abdomen against the blow, but the pain was nevertheless tremendous. He grunted and crashed dazedly back against the door. His hold around Kuhl slackening, he somehow managed to cling to the strap that was his only remaining purchase, pulling it backward again even as Kuhl pulled forward.

There was a sound of fabric giving way, the strap tearing free of the stitches that held it to the pack, swinging loosely from Kuhl's right shoulder.

Slipping down his opposite arm, the pack dangled there momentarily, and then fell toward the floor between the two men.

Kuhl spun, reached a hand down to catch it, but his brief distraction had allowed Ricci a chance to recover. He brought his knee up into Kuhl's stomach, staggering him, then bent his legs to give himself some momentum and snapped a hard uppercut to Kuhl's jaw.

Kuhl's head jerked backward, but Ricci could feel him roll with the punch, and knew he'd avoided the worst of it. Ricci hit him again, aiming high, unable to maneuver in the cramped doorway and just hoping to connect with a solid hit. This time his fist smashed into the side of Kuhl's nose, and blood came spurting from it onto Ricci's knuckles.

Though Ricci could see the pain register in his opponent's eyes, Kuhl gave no other sign of weakness. Before Ricci could follow up with a third blow, he slammed his truncheon lengthwise across Ricci's side directly over his kidney, then brought it up and back for another strike, this one aimed for Ricci's temple

Raising his arm to block the swing, Ricci forced the stick out and away from himself. But his side was on fire and he was still too stunned and breathless to move. Then, through the specks of light wheeling across his vision, he saw Kuhl's left hand thrust downward again, his fingers groping for the backpack lying on the floor between them, then clenching around its broken strap.

He snatched it up and turned toward the corridor.

Gulping air, Ricci pushed himself off the door. Whatever was in that pack had to be important enough for the other man to have paused twice to retrieve it when he might instead have gotten a head start out of the building.