Page 57 of Steinbeck
Phoenix stopped near the door.“How?”
“It’s connected to the Internet—they’re like a welcome mat for hackers.I’m hungry.”
“We’ll eat on the plane,” she said.Looked at Stein.“Ready?”
He nodded, got behind Luis, grabbed his backpack.
“What plane?”
“The one to Montelena.”She opened the door.
Darkness bathed the hallway, and she eased out, then nodded to Steinbeck.He pushed Luis out right behind her as she hurried down the stairs.Seven flights, no problem, and when she hit the bottom, she waited for them at the entrance to the alleyway that overlooked a cobblestone street leading down to the boardwalk.
She met Stein’s eyes in the semidarkness.
“He gets to the plane, no matter what.”
Stein rolled his eyes.“Now you’re annoyingme.”
“Keep up.”She opened the door.
Outside, shadows darkened the narrow alleyway.Streetlights and tourists cluttered one side; the other ran up to a dead end.
She edged out and took off, quick-walking to the end.Holstered her Glock as she reached the corner.
Luis stepped up behind her.
“Any reason to think they know you’re here?”
Luis shook his head.
She peeked back out at the street.A riverboat cruise ship had let off passengers who now wandered the shops and ate at the cafés along the boardwalk.
Music filtered up from the wharf.
Their rented car waited three blocks up, parked near the bridge on Rua da Ribeira.
“Let’s take the wharf.We’ll blend into the crowd.”
Stein nodded, and she rolled out of their corridor, into the twilit night.Stein walked behind her, Luis between them.She quick-walked down the gray cobblestones toward a plaza with streetlamps and an expansive restaurant with tables topped with red umbrellas, glittering with twinkle lights.
The romance of the city sparkled on the water in multicolored lights and long dinner-style ferryboats with music lilting into the velvety night.Couples walked hand in hand, some with dogs on leashes, others stopping to look at the wares in one of the many kiosks that lined the boardwalk.Art, jewelry, cork purses, sardines in colored tins, scarves, and food—so much food.Her stomach growled.
She glanced over at Stein.He wore his Krakow expression, all business, scanning the area, and it struck a sense of camaraderie inside her.
No, he far from annoyed her.
Stairs to her left led to a long elevated boardwalk with more tables and chairs.It overlooked the wharf like a promenade deck.Shops below it offered more souvenirs.
A ferry’s horn bellowed from the pier ahead of them.She glanced again at Stein, whose gaze scrutinized the pier.But out of the corner of her eye?—
Someone was following them on the upper deck.She spotted him—dark jacket, bulky form.
Boris.
What—
“They’re onto us.”
