Laurel stopped and looked at her. Her accent was Russian. She was wearing a long coat and expensive shoes that were going to get ruined in this weather.

Laurel leaned inside the cab and said to the driver, “Wait right here.”

She turned to the woman and immediately, the cab pulled away. “Come on,” she yelled after it but it did no good.

The woman ran up the steps to the door of the bar.

“It’s locked,” Laurel said.

The woman turned to her. “I was supposed to meet someone here,” she said, panic on her face.

There was another cab down the street. It had stopped at the intersection and the woman looked over her shoulder at it.

Then she pulled at the door of the bar as if she didn’t believe it was locked.

“What’s the matter?” Laurel said.

“I was supposed to meet someone. A man. He said he’d be here.”

“I’m here to meet you,” Laurel said.

“What?”

“You sent the message. In Istanbul.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “Oh no,” she said.

“What?”

“Where’s Spector?”

“He’s not here.”

“I said only Spector,” the woman said. She was scared. She looked again at the cab at the intersection, then at Laurel. “I’m being followed.”

Laurel looked at the cab. It was still idling ominously at the intersection. The street was completely deserted.

“We’re not safe here,” she said.

“I never should have come,” the woman said.

They both looked at the cab. The back window opened and someone reached out.

“What is he doing?” Laurel said.

“I think he’s filming us.”

Laurel nodded.

“Are you armed?”

“Yes,” Laurel said. “You?”

The woman nodded.

They watched the cab. The man stopped filming and the window went back up.

“What’s he doing now?” Laurel said.

The woman was about to speak when a flash lit up the inside of the cab, and a split second later, the distinctive crack of a gunshot.

“Oh, shit,” the woman said.

She ran down the steps and took cover with Laurel behind a parked car. Both women drew their guns.

“He filmed us,” the woman said.

Laurel understood. “We have to stop him.”

The back door of the cab opened and a man stepped out.

“Who is that guy?” Laurel said.

The woman shook her head. “That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out.”

The man opened the front door of the cab and pulled the body of the driver out onto the street. Then he got into the driver’s seat.

“Why kill the driver?” Laurel said.

The woman shook her head.

Laurel stood up and aimed her hand gun. She couldn’t see inside the cab but fired two shots straight through the windshield where the driver would have been.

Then she fired two more at the front, driver’s side tire, hitting it twice.