Pike moved past the woman to look out the window. The drop was about fourteen feet. The impact would be similar to a hard parachute landing, but Pike could make the drop with the baby. He could cushion their impact, then make his way back over the wall.

Pike holstered the Python. He was opening the window when something thumped in the hall, and the same man who summoned the chair guard appeared, and saw him.

The man shouted, and was pulling a pistol when Pike crushed his larynx and snapped his neck.

The woman was shouting out the window, and now the baby was screaming, too, its face a vivid red. Pike pulled her backward by the hair, but he didn’t have to fight her for the baby. She shoved it into his arms, and ran, stumbling down the hall. Pike took the baby back to the window, but now three men were running toward them, one of them pointing up at the window.

Pike stepped back and listened. He heard footsteps, voices, and a slam ming door, but nothing on the stairs. This meant they were talking to the woman. They would spend a few minutes trying to figure out who he was and whether he was alone, and then they would come. Men would be outside to cover the window, one team would come up the far stair, and another team would come up the near stair. Then they would fight.

The baby was screaming, tiny legs kicking, miniature fists clenched for battle, tears squeezed from eyes clenched tightly closed.

Pike held up the baby so they were face-to-face.

“Boy.”

The screaming stopped, and the angry blue eyes opened to nasty slits.

The close-quarters fight would be loud and vicious, and it occurred to Pike he had to protect the kid’s ears. He spotted the cotton in the baby supplies, pinched off two bits, and pushed a plug into each of the baby’s ears. The baby fought fiercely and screamed even louder.

“Gonna be loud, boy. Suck it up.”

Pike heard movement in other parts of the building, and knew the fight was approaching. When it came, they would shoot to kill him, which meant he couldn’t stand around with the kid. Pike jerked a blanket from the bassinet, wrapped it around the baby, then pulled a bottom drawer from the desk. He scooped out old files and paper, and placed the baby inside. The baby immediately stopped crying.

“You good?”

The baby blinked.

“Good.”

Pike closed the drawer with the baby inside, and hurried back to the door. Shooters were probably in both stairwells by now, and only seconds from making their move. They would have listened to the blond woman, made some kind of plan, and now felt confident they had Pike trapped. They were wrong. Pike attacked.