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was concerned someone might inadvertently kick the flattened cardboard, thus revealing the bloodstain underneath, but it never happened. No one seemed to pay any attention to it. They were too intent on obeying the rules and evacuating the building. Some hurried more than others on the off chance it wasn’t just a drill. 
    He mixed in with some of the other people and made his way back out into the hot sunlight, sure to slip his sunglasses on to help keep from being too identifiable or memorable.
    As hotel concierges ushered people through the exits and to the front of the building, Sean picked up his pace, slipping through the mass of bodies and trying not to bump anyone with the rucksack that held his weapons. People gawked at the flaming car that was now being tended to by firemen from the local department. Two police cars zoomed by with sirens screaming, which caused more than one person to cover their ears.
    The people were herded toward the north, down the sidewalk away from the building. It was an international standard protocol in case of a fire evacuation, and one that Sean was happy to take advantage of.
    A man in a white jacket with a hotel name tag attached to the left breast held up a sign that told everyone where to rally for the evacuation. Sean allowed some of the patrons to start collecting in a huddle around the man and then kept walking down the strip.
    He never glanced back. He didn't need to. No one would recognize him or even remember that they'd seen an American in sunglasses with a backpack and a second bag. Why would they? They were too enthralled by the roiling black smoke pouring from the car.
    Somehow, Dufort had got wind of his presence, something that now nagged at Sean's mind. The Frenchman had got away from him twice. Maybe the time away from the agency had made Sean rusty. To him, that only meant he would have to train harder.
    As he strolled down the street, keeping his eyes peeled for the next taxi, he heard the phone ringing in his pocket. Odd timing for a phone call.
    He pulled it out and glanced at the name. It was Emily. He hit the talk button and put the device to his ear, hoping she wasn't calling about Dufort. She had connections everywhere, but no way had she already heard about his mark getting away.
    "Hello, Em," he said, turning his head toward the ocean, squinting into the bright sunlight. A group of Asian tourists was on the other side of the road pointing at the hotel where smoke continued to pour into the clear blue sky.
    "I'm sorry to bother you on your vacation, Zero, but I need you to come in."
    He laughed at her insinuation. "I wish I was on vacation."
    Another fire engine whined in the distance. "What's that noise?" she asked. "Do I even want to know?"
    "Dufort got away. Pretty sure he tried to blow me up. All he managed to do was make a wreck of my very nice rental."
    "He got away?"
    "I'm fine, though. Thanks for asking."
    "I figured you would have dispatched him two days ago."
    "These things take time, Em," he said coolly and stole a quick glance back at the chaos as he turned down a side street, effectively disappearing from view.
    "Well, you'll have to pursue him later."
    "I plan on it. What's so pressing that you would have pulled me off him?"
    "Order from the president. Get to Frankfurt. Let me know when you arrive. I'll pick you up and brief you there."
    The phone went dead, and he looked down at the screen. She'd ended the call without much fanfare. Her directness was one of the things Sean liked best about Emily.
    He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. It seemed like every part of his body was hurting. Now he was heading to Germany and had no idea why.
    An old, beat up Toyota rounded the corner. The words in Arabic on the side indicated it was a cab. Sean held up his hand and waved to the driver.
    Back in the game , he thought, pushing away a twinge of regret. He got in the car and told the driver where to go. The man nodded and sped away, leaving the chaos