Free The Einstein Pursuit by Chris Kuzneski Page B

loose. Thankfully, today Payne could only see five people waiting.
    The doors opened, and he led Sahlberg down the staircase toward the main exit. He scanned the station for any signs of the gunmen from the previous trip. He hadn’t seen their faces, but Sahlberg had described them in detail. Furthermore, Payne knew they would be watching the passengers as they passed through the station. Seeing only tourists in shorts and sandals, he felt confident they weren’t walking into an ambush.
    ‘Follow me closely,’ he said to Sahlberg.
    They moved steadily toward the front exit, walking past the five tourists who strolled toward the cable car. He was tempted to warn them about the wreckage inside, but what could he possibly say?
I just beat the shit out of two men in the lower level, so unless you want to get blood on your shoes, you might want to find a seat in the upper section.
    He knew a warning like that was just as likely to cause panic as the scene itself, so he put his head down and kept moving, hoping to make it outside before anyone noticed.
    But he wasn’t quick enough.
    The instant Payne opened the front door, a scream emerged from the loading platform behind him. It was a blood-curdling wail that echoed through the building and blared out into the street. At a time when Payne was trying to avoid attention, the scream might as well have been a siren imploring everyone within range to take notice.
    Thankfully, the only people nearby were across the street.
    Unfortunately, it was Masseri and a hired thug.
    Payne instantly knew it was them. Not only because they were dressed like the two men he had knocked unconscious, but because the goon raised his pistol and opened fire.
    That made things pretty obvious.
    Payne dove back inside the building, knocking Sahlberg to the floor for his protection. The old man landed hard on his right hip, but a few seconds later he was back on his feet and ready to run for cover. Meanwhile, Payne darted across the lobby and grabbed a heavy iron bench from the waiting area. He dragged it across the tiled floor and shoved it against the front entrance. It wasn’t perfect, but the improvised barricade would at least slow their pursuers. Then he turned from the door and sprinted up the steps toward the cable car, urging the five tourists to get in the car with the teenager and the married couple. They’d be safer riding up the hill than hanging out in the lobby, which would soon resemble a shooting gallery.
    Sahlberg, however, was the exception.
    He would be safer with Payne.
    As the tourists crowded into the incline, Payne crouched low on the stairs, pulling his pistol and facing the doorway below. From this vantage point he was protected by the geometry of the door and the stairwell: the men would have to be on their knees if they wanted to shoot him, such was the line of sight between the doorway and his position. The drawback was that Payne couldn’t get a clear shot at the men if they tried to enter; he would only be able to see their feet as they came toward the stairs.
    The moment the door swung open and a leg stepped into view, Payne took aim. He waited for the intruder to step over the toppled bench, then fired once. His bullet found its mark, shattering the goon’s shin like a porcelain doll.
    He immediately fell to the floor.
    Writhing in agony, the man tried to locate the son-of-a-bitch who had shot him in the leg, but it was all for naught: he spotted Payne just in time to see him pull his trigger again. The resulting shot hit the man in his face, popping his skull open like a piñata. But instead of candy, it showered Masseri’s shoes with bits of bone and clumps of grey matter.
    Payne hoped that shot would deliver a message.
    If you want to live, you better leave now.
    You don’t know who you’re messing with.

14
    If the numbers had been even, Masseri might have reconsidered his tactics against an accurate shooter like Payne, but due to the seemingly unlimited supply