“We’ll probably never know, but I wouldn’t have a heart attack if somebody told me it was Dolce herself. It was a straight mob hit, two rounds to the back of the head.” Dino chuckled.

“It’s not funny.”

“Sure, it is,” Dino said. He swung onto the drive to the international terminal and screeched to a halt. Andy Anderson came running to meet them.

“I’ve alerted airport security,” he said. “Here comes their chief, now.”

A man in a dark suit approached. “Lieutenant Bacchetti? I’m Sam Warren, head of airport security. Tell me what I can do to help.”

“You’ve seen the pictures?”

Warren nodded. “They’re being distributed to my people now, but from what I’ve heard of the timing, these two guys are already past security and into the departure area. We’re talking about twenty-five gates, and there’s at least one flight leaving from every one of them between now and midnight.”

“Shut them down,” Dino said.

“Beg pardon?”

“No flight leaves until we’ve searched it.”

“Jesus, Lieutenant, I can’t put a hold on twenty-five flights. Do you have any idea what that would do the system? People will be missing connecting flights all over Europe. It can’t be done.”

“Yeah, what happens when it snows?”

“Well, there are flight delays, of course.”

Dino pointed to a window. “Man, look at that snow! It’s a regular blizzard!”

“Lieutenant…”

“Listen, Sam, we’ve got two murderers on the loose in your airport, with six killings between them. Are you going to be responsible for letting them get out of the country?”

Warren said nothing; he was thinking about it.

“Andy,” Dino said, “how many people we got here?”

“About a dozen; there are fifty more on the way, but the traffic…”

“Yeah, yeah, tell me about it. Let’s do the flights to Germany first. Have you checked the reservations?”

“There’s no Menzies or Hausman on any departing flight,” Anderson said.

“So they’ve got backup passports; that makes it harder.”

“Andy,” Stone said, “check for the initials H.M.; start with the flights to Germany.”

“Good idea,” Dino said. “Do it, Andy. Call me when you’ve got an answer.”

“All right,” Warren said. “I’ll do it.” He spoke into a handheld radio. “Base, this is Warren.”

“Yes, chief?”

“I want a code red on all departing international flights. Nothing moves from a gate until I say so.”

“Roger, chief; what about taxiing aircraft?”

“Stop and hold everything international on my authority. I’ll get back to you.”

“Follow me,” he said to Dino.

The four men began jogging toward the security gates.

Anderson peeled off and picked up an emergency phone.

“Where are the rest of my people?” Dino asked Warren.

“They’re combing the departure lounges, trying to get a match on the pictures.”

Warren got them through the security barriers, and they ran toward the departure areas.