Before Kim could answer she heard a loud thump behind her. She turned to see the three hoodies emerge from the pyramids moving swiftly. They approached the older couple leaving the gala.
The hoodies’ moves seemed choreographed, as if they’d practiced or maybe done this many times before. One shoved into the distinguished tuxedoed man knocking him off balance; he shouted “Hey!” before he regained his unsteady footing.
At the same time, the second hoodie stopped, raised his arm, and pointed a Glock squarely at the older woman’s chest. The woman looked green, as if she might vomit, and began to shake.
The third hoodie shoved the tuxedoed man backward and shouted, “You got something to say?”
The man tripped and fell on his left side. A loud crack followed by the man’s animal-like screaming confirmed broken bones, at least.
Otto pulled her weapon and aimed it at the first hoodie’s center mass, and shouted, “FBI!”
Simultaneously, Gaspar pivoted on his good left leg, rushed the gunman, and knocked him to the ground, sending his Glock skimming the sidewalk into the shadows toward Duffy. The gunman’s temple slammed onto the concrete and bounced twice, leaving him splayed and motionless, his neck bent at an unnatural angle.
The older woman’s horrified face lasted three seconds before she staggered, fainted, and fell face down onto the sidewalk, breaking her nose. Blood pooled and seeped into view from the center of her face.
The second hoodie froze in place, arms up, hands palm out in recognizable surrender. Security reinforcements approached running, guns drawn.
For the next moments, Otto held the two muggers at gunpoint while Gaspar attended to the woman.
Kim glanced briefly toward Duffy. For the first time, she saw a man standing alone in the sculpture’s shadow. He looked familiar, but it was too dark to be sure. He was dressed in jeans and a leather jacket and work boots. Both hands were stuffed into the pockets of his jacket. He wore no hat. Duffy, completely engulfed in the long, black cape, passed close to him. He dipped his head to catch words that Kim was too far away to hear, or to be heard if she’d shouted to them.
Duffy never stopped walking. She disappeared into the darkness of the sculpture garden. The big man looked straight toward Kim long enough to cause a fission of recognition to run up her spine before he, too, disappeared.