The airport was crowded, and Bart couldn’t walk two steps without looking over his shoulder, afraid he was about to be snatched from the thoroughfare and carted away somewhere by giant thugs who were about to beat his ass.

He had on a disguise that should’ve made him unrecognizable to anyone who’d followed him from the hotel, but he’d have to take it off before he went through security so that he would match the picture on his passport at least a little better than he did now. He’d gotten in the car looking like Rome and gotten out with red hair and freckles. He had no idea if Rome’s...