Rashid lost his composure for a few beats and bared his teeth at her in a silent snarl. Then he lapsed back into his trance.

Encouraged, Nina threw up her hands in genial exasperation. “Okay. I tried nice. But you don’t want nice. So now I’m pissed.”

With far more strength than Rashid was prepared to believe existed in her body, Nina jerked him up by hair and shoulder and thrust him toward the door. “Comin’ through,” she called out.

The door swung open. Expertly pulling Rashid off balance, she propelled him into the hall. Hollywood and Bugs stood at the ready, and several other men were positioned down the hall, screening them from the office in the front of the building.

“Now what?” Hollywood asked.

“Time to adapt and improvise,” Nina said. “He wants to go to the john, right?”

“Say again?”

“Clear that room of any civilians.” She nodded down the hall.

“Ah, that’s the women’s can,” Hollywood said.

“If you please,” Nina said, jockeying Rashid forward.

Hollywood went down the hall, rapped on the door, and sang out. “Man needs to come in-duck and cover.” Then he entered the bathroom and emerged ten seconds later. “Empty, it’s all yours.”

Nina nodded and turned to Bugs. “Duct tape. In my go-bag.”

Bugs knelt to an equipment bag, removed a roll of tape, got up, and tucked it under Nina’s arm. Hollywood gallantly opened the bathroom door.

“Now Rashid and I would like some privacy,” Nina said.

“No problem,” Bugs said as he and Hollywood took up positions on either side of the door.

Nina and Rashid careened through the door, bounced off a wall and into the row of sinks. Rashid started to fight back. He swung his elbows and shoulders and lashed out with his feet. The roll of tape went flying into a sink. But there was more desperation than training in his attempt, and Nina easily spun him, dropped her shoulder, set her stance, and drove a short, vicious right fist into his soft middle. As he sagged, gasping for breath, she maneuvered him into an open toilet stall.