He swept into the room, checking corners automatically and kicking aside the fallen gunman’s pistol. “We’ll have you out of here in a second, ma’am,” he said to Tamara Wright, who was handcuffed to a bed and gagged. She wore the same dress she had on aboard the Natchez Belle.

Juan came in right after him, and when she recognized the Chairman the panic and fear that swelled in her eyes subsided. He untied her gag and tossed it to Linc, who quickly wound it around the wounded guard’s mouth to stifle the sounds of his agony.

“How did . . . ? How are . . . ?” So overwhelmed, Tamara couldn’t get a question out.

“Later” was all Juan said.

Linc carried a heavy pair of bolt cutters in a scabbard on his back. He pulled them free like a samurai drawing his katana. It didn’t take one tenth of his strength to cut the chain binding Tamara to the bed. They would remove the cuffs back on the Oregon.

“Have they hurt you?” Juan asked.

“Um, no. Not really. They’ve just been asking me questions about—”

“Later,” he repeated. Getting to her was the easy part of the operation. Getting them all back out was going to be tricky. “Do you know how to swim?”

She could only stare at such an apropos-to-nothing question.

“Can you?”

“Yes, why? Never mind. I know, later.”

Juan admired her spirit and didn’t blame Max one bit for wanting to date her. Tamara Wright had an inner core of strength that even the past few days of terror couldn’t diminish.

He tapped his comm link. “Sitrep.”

Linda’s elfin voice filled his ear. “The doorman made a call as soon as he heard the shots. I figure we’ve got a minute, tops, before the cops arrive.”

Cabrillo guessed less. “We’re on our way.”

“Mark’s ready.”

The three Americans retreated back the way Juan and Linc had assaulted the apartment. The hook hovered just outside the broken window. Linc lifted Tamara over the broken glass and set her directly atop a metal platform encircling the crane’s cable just above the hook. While it made a perfect perch for them, its purpose was to prevent rats from climbing the cable in what was a millennialong battle between rodents and mariners.

Lincoln climbed on directly behind her, shielding her body and holding her steady. “Don’t you worry. Uncle Franklin’s got you.”

“Don’t you mean Nephew Franklin?” she said.

As soon as Juan wrapped his gloved fist around the cable, Mark dropped them toward the sidewalk as smoothly as an Otis elevator. Linda had the car pulled over to the curb with the doors already opened. The windshield wipers beat furiously at the rain.