Bari, Italy
Day Three
Stryker watched the bar’s back-alley doorknob turn. It moved too slowly. Someone wanted stealth.
There was nowhere to hide in the narrow hallway. As the back entrance opened, Stryker prepared for a confrontation.
But the white-shirted man who stepped inside was no threat. When he saw Stryker, he dropped his phone and clutched at his heart.
The man’s telephone squawked. “Guido? Where’d you go?”
Stryker put a finger to his lips, brushed around the intruder, apparently the cook, and flew out the door.
In the harbor two hours later, Stryker completed his search of the captain’s vessel and stepped onto the floating dock. Sam’s call last night had interrupted his search of the ship and he’d wanted to finish what he started. She was watching his back from the area o
