which one do we take?” “Neither. They’ll have them covered.” “This is nuts. I’m

calling the cops.” She pulled out her phone and looked at it in disbelief: She

had no bars.

 

Puller glanced at her. “I already checked mine. They’re jamming the signal.”

“Great. So you say we don’t go fore or aft? Then where do we go?” “We go up.”

“What, so they can trap us on the roof?” “Come on.” Puller led her down the hall

until they reached a door marked Stairs. He pulled it open and they headed up.

 

They had heard the door they had initially come through open as the wood Puller

had jammed there was broken. The sounds of footsteps had carried across the open

lower floor.

 

Now the footsteps were echoing through the building. The men after them

apparently didn’t care if Puller and Knox knew they were coming. That was the

confidence gained by superior numbers and firepower.

 

Puller led Knox up one flight of stairs after another until they reached the

roof eight stories up. Puller forced the door and then used his Ka-Bar knife as

a wedge on the hinge side of the door to jam it. “Now what?” asked a perplexed

Knox. “You told me you ran track in college.” “Are you drunk?” “Did you?” “Yes.”

“Ever practice the long jump?” “Yes. I was pretty good at it.” “Glad to hear

that.” “Puller, what the—” They heard footsteps racing up the steps to the roof.

 

He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go.” “What?” They sprinted flat-out toward the edge