“Better run,” Slate said.
The look in the Russian’s eyes told Napoleon he meant business, and that being the case he shot up to his feet, knocking over the chair.
The others at the table who’d been playing cards with them in the Bullpen...the room where agents sometimes waited to be called for an assignment, were nonplussed.
Field agents could be surprised but their training kept them from showing it.
Solo was out the door in a flash with Kuryakin hot on his heels. It was going to be a free for all, but the others kept their distance.