Killing Rain

without either harming her or getting shot myself. Neither was an attractive alternative.
    I took her by the arm and started to say, “Damn it, Delilah . . .”
    There was a sound at the top of the stairs above us. We both looked. It was Hilger and Al-Jib, descending toward us. Hilger was holding a gun in a two-handed grip, close to his body and pointing at the floor. He looked at me and I saw hard recognition in his eyes.
    Shit.
    They must have gotten suspicious about Manny taking so long, and emerged to investigate.
    “Step out of the way, John,” Hilger said. “We just want to leave. There’s no need for anyone to get killed here.”
    Delilah was holding the Kimber, but it was clear to me that Hilger had the advantage. His weapon was more at the ready, for one thing. He had the high ground, for another. Also, presumably the gun he was holding was familiar to him, was presumably the very gun he trained with, whereas Delilah was relying on someone else’s weapon, a four-inch-barrel .45 that was probably too big for her. Delilah must have recognized all this, too, or she would already have tried for a shot.
    But then why hadn’t Hilger already dropped us? I’d seen his combat shooting skills in front of Kwai Chung and knew he was formidable. And then I realized:
    He’s known here. This is part of his cover. He doesn’t want to shoot.
    Al-Jib didn’t say anything. He looked scared. This was Hilger’s show.
    “No problem,” I said, showing my hands. “Our business wasn’t with you. We’re finished.”
    At a minimum, I had to get us onto level ground. Better yet, let them go down the stairs past us. Then the high ground would be ours. They’d be struggling to keep us covered and descend the stairs backward at the same time.
    Hilger frowned. “Manny?”
    “Manny’s done. You and I are quits.”
    His eyes narrowed. “We’re not quits.”
    Well, so much for lulling him.
    Delilah said, “You can go. But not your friend.”
    “Sorry, we’re both going to leave,” Hilger said. “Around you or through you, your choice.”
    “I don’t have a problem with around,” I said, thinking, Goddamnit, Delilah, follow my lead.
    I heard Dox in my ear. “I know what’s going on, folks, but I can’t help you while they’re above you on the stairs. You’ve got to let ’em down past fourteen.”
    “Let’s just do as he says,” I said to Delilah, referring, of course, to Dox.
    There was a long pause. I supposed she just instinctively didn’t want to take herself from between Al-Jib and an escape path.
    But she was tactical, she must have understood the situation. Our position relative to Hilger and Al-Jib was untenable. It was as though she was just trying to delay things, slow Al-Jib down. But why would she . . .
    A stair creaked on one of the risers below. I don’t know if it was intuition, or a sixth sense, or what, but I ducked. I heard the pfffft of a suppressed pistol and a round cracked into the wall behind me.
    I sprang to my right, down the corridor toward the bathroom. As I did so I saw Gil, moving toward us from below, his gun out. I heard Delilah scream, “No!” A second later, gunfire erupted from the stairs above us.
    I blasted open the bathroom door and stumbled inside. “Get out of the bar!” I said to Dox through the lapel mike. I ran for the closet, opened the door, and got inside. “Gil’s here. Delilah must have called him. They’re on the stairs. We’re blown. There’s nothing we can do.”
    “Yeah, sounds like a shooting gallery out there,” he said. “The patrons here are all freaking out, can you hear them?”
    I heard shouting and other sounds of panic in the background. Dox, characteristically, sounded almost soporifically calm. I pulled out the Surefire and twisted it on. The attaché was where I’d left it. I grabbed it and headed back to the freight elevator. I pressed the button on the wall and waited.
    “If you can get to the closet where I was hiding,” I said, “there’s freight elevator access. Otherwise, your only way down is on thirteen.”
    “Already thought of all that. But I can’t get to either with the OK Corral in between.”
    Goddamn, he was cool under pressure. For a second I loved him for it.
    “I know. But you can’t just stay in the bar, either. If Gil and Delilah drop Hilger and Al-Jib, they might come for you.”
    “I don’t think Delilah . . .”
    “Delilah called Gil, damn it. What do you think, she said, ‘Promise not to hurt