Petroski draws his service pistol. The gun is close enough to my ear that I can feel small perturbations in the air beside me, see the shimmer of Petroski’s hand as it tries to steady itself.

“Safety off?” I say.

The click is like a shot, automatic and deafening.

“Now, Jackie.”

She’s on him. Petroski’s hand slackens. Later, I’ll never know whether he cooperated or whether he was taken by surprise, but I make the move I planned, close my fingers around the grip, and aim a few inches below the blue pin glinting on Morgan’s collar.

And I squeeze.

Chapter Seventy-four

SEVENTY-FOUR

Morgan falls, and I fall with him, my ears screaming a note in the coloratura style as Jackie tries to catch me under the arms before I hit the ground. She’s strong, or she was once, but gravity wins this game. I hit the floor with a thud I can feel but can’t hear, and realize I’m holding something.

Lorenzo is at my side, his breath hot in my face. I see his mouth moving as he pries apart my fingers, disentangling the bulky steel from my grip.

“Relax,” he says. The word comes out like he’s talking underwater, but I can see the individual sounds. He reengages Petroski’s pistol with the flick of his thumb, uses his shirt to wipe the grip and trigger, and hands it back to the soldier, who is leaning over Morgan and watching the blood bloom from his chest. A sickly scarlet puddle stains the white tile floor.

“Where’d you learn to do that?” I say to Lorenzo. It sounds like Wa ya la ta da tha?

“Two years in the Italian army.” Then, more seriously: “Can you hear me?”

I nod. “A little.”

“You’ll have some ringing in your ears for a while. Maybe an hour. It’ll get better, trust me.”

“I hurt him, didn’t I?”

Lorenzo checks over his shoulder to where Morgan lies. “Yeah. You could say that.” The words are still muffled but slightly more intelligible.

“We need to move him,” I say.

Jackie’s already thought of this. She’s standing in the doorway with Lin, Isabel, and an armful of suit jackets and lab coats—anything left by the men when they evacuated. She touches my arm, then gestures to the floor where Morgan is lying, points to herself, and makes circling motions with a finger. It’s less elegant than the structured sign language Lin and Lorenzo use, but I get the point. Jackie will take care of the bloody thing in the corner.