From Russia Without Love (7 page)

The man kept running until Sonny tackled him, both of them landing on the concrete.

“I not do anything,” the man said.

Sonny patted him down for a weapon and discovered a cell phone. Then another. And more. “Why do you have six cell phones?”

“I salesman.”

Hannah quickly dialed Young back and asked him to call Xander’s phone.

One of the man’s cell phones rang. Sonny took it and checked the caller ID before answering and turning the phone off. He glared at the man. “Where’d you get this?”

“I don’t know.”

“You better start giving some answers,” Sonny threatened, “or I’m calling the police.”

“A big guy,” the man said.

“Where was he?” Sonny asked.

“Near security.” The man tried to sit up, but Sonny pushed him back to the ground. “Which security?”

He pointed to a spot in the terminal.

“Was he heading into security or walking by?”

“Going into security.”

Sonny pocketed Xander’s phone. “When?”

“Thirty minutes ago.”

“We better hurry,” Hannah said.

The three of them hurried into the airport, abandoning their informant, and stopped near a line of people funneling through security. Xander was nowhere in sight. Chris did notice a nearby TV monitor, though, tuned in to CNN International.

“In Athens, a terrorist group known as 21D kidnapped a British civil engineer, Michael Winthrop, son-in-law to America’s White House Chief of Staff. When a fire broke out next door to where Winthrop was being held hostage, he used the diversion to escape, and as Hellenic police moved in to rescue him, a shootout occurred. 21D killed Winthrop, and police killed a number of the terrorists…”

Chris and his team knew the real story. It was them, not the Hellenic police, who shot it out with the kidnappers and lost Michael. He was used to his work going uncredited, but he wasn’t used to losing a hostage. Xander would pay for it, too. Chris tightened his jaw and focused.

The trio pressed closer to the security line to search for Xander, but still nothing. Chris examined the surrounding area when he spotted a familiar figure. “That’s Animus,” he said, “heading for the ticket counter. He might be meeting up with Xander. Let’s follow him.”

They kept their distance and spread out. Chris tried to keep at least two people between him and Animus, and he searched for a place to duck out of sight in case Animus doubled back. The man kept going, though, and joined a line of customers at the Air France ticket counter. When he seemed near the end of his transaction, and before he turned around, Chris snuck into a restroom and waited, his heart pounding. He estimated how long he thought it would take Animus to leave the area and near security. While waiting, he heard footsteps approach the restroom door.

That could be him.

Chris hid in one of the stalls as sounds from the airport lobby entered the restroom. Footsteps echoed, closer and closer. Within the small confines of the stall, Chris felt ambushed. If the other person in the restroom was Animus and he started shooting through the door to Chris’s stall, he’d be trapped. Whoever had entered used the urinal, but Chris couldn’t see who it was. He could peek over the door, but he’d risk being seen. His heart pounded even harder and he pulled out his pistol, preparing to defend himself if the shooting began.

But the man left, and Chris gave him time to depart the restroom before stepping out of the stall. He left the men’s room and scanned the terminal. Sonny briskly walked toward him, but Chris couldn’t see Animus. Hannah was missing, too.

“If you shake it more than once, you’re playing with it,” Sonny quipped.

“Where’s Hannah?” Chris asked, ignoring the joke.

“She’s going to find out which gate Animus went to so we know his destination. She already bought a ticket and gave me her pistol to pass security.”

Chris’s eyes widened, concern churning in his gut. “What if she gets into trouble and needs backup?”

“She said she’ll call before the trouble gets troubling.”

“We should’ve given her backup.”

“And do what with our guns to get past security?” Sonny asked.

“We have diplomatic passports. Maybe we can pass through the crew line without being screened.”

“You’re assuming Athens airport security gives a shit about our diplomatic passports.”

“We could stash our pieces in a locker.”

“Just chill,” Sonny said. “We’ll do her more harm than good. Animus is more likely to spot three of us than Hannah alone. He’s also never met Hannah. You, he’d recognize.”

“I don’t like this,” Chris said.

“If you weren’t banging her, maybe your tactical judgment would be clearer.”

Chris took a deep breath. “I’m not banging her.”

Sonny shrugged. “Whatever you call it.”

Chris pulled out his cell phone and tried to keep his anger from bubbling over. “If Hannah rings for help, we’re keeping our guns and we’re busting through that security checkpoint. You got it?”

“Damn straight.”

Chris and Sonny walked to the security gate and took seats close by. Chris kept an eye on the clock, but it only made the time go slower, so he tried not to think about it.

When more than half an hour passed, he couldn’t bear it anymore. “One of us should—”

“Shh,” Sonny said, cutting him off.

Chris wanted to call her, but he knew the sound of her cell might alert Animus or Xander. Then Chris’s phone rang. The caller ID read
Hannah
.

“I’m okay,” she said immediately. “The line at security was long, but I got through and found Xander, Animus, and Evelina in the same lobby for the flight to Paris, but Xander is sitting separately, like he doesn’t know them. Obviously, they’re up to something, so I called Langley and requested some of our guys in Paris put surveillance on the three when they arrive.”

Knowing she was safe, Chris heaved a sigh of relief.

“What?” she asked.

Chris didn’t say anything.

“You were worried about me,” she said.

He swallowed. “Yes.”

“See you in a minute,” she said, and he could almost hear the smile in her voice.

Chris wasn’t completely worry-free until she finally reunited with them in the arrivals area.

“Can we have the Gulfstream meet us here and take us to Paris?” Sonny asked.

“The Agency is going to fly us,” Hannah said. “The Gulfstream will have to catch up with us later.”

_______

F
our hours later, they were in an Agency plane flying over France. “What do we do if our mission to kill-or-capture Xander is denied?” Hannah asked.

“He kidnapped and murdered a US citizen,” Chris said, anger heating his face. “Michael was our responsibility, and a US citizen’s murder can’t go unpunished. If we receive a message denying the op, we can just pretend we didn’t receive the message. Ask for forgiveness later, like Sonny said.”

Sonny was silent.

“Are you still okay with that?” Hannah asked him. “Pretending we didn’t receive the message?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” Sonny said. “Xander took out our hostage, and he’s got to pay for it.”

“How about you, Hannah?” Chris asked.

“I’m fine with continuing the op now. But if we get explicit instructions to back off… I don’t know. Disobeying direct orders from on high bit me in the butt once, and I’m not too roused about getting bit again.”

Sonny raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What orders did you disobey?”

“I’m going to check radio traffic,” she said, leaving the question unanswered, and headed to the cockpit.

Chris had almost dozed off in his seat when Hannah returned. “We received a digitally formatted Flash Precedence message,” she said. “I decrypted it, authenticating Langley’s digital signature. The message was short and direct:
Kill or capture Xander Metaxas.
”

“Now we won’t have to ask for forgiveness,” Chris said, relieved their op was now sanctioned. Now he was following orders.

“It’s time to bring the hate,” Sonny said.

Their jet descended below the clouds over Paris, and the quilt of farms surrounding the Charles de Gaulle airport became visible. After they landed, French customs and immigration officers boarded and checked their diplomatic passports.

“What is the purpose of your visit?” one of the officers asked.

Sonny’s words echoed in Chris’s brain.
It’s time to bring the hate.

“To visit the US embassy,” Hannah answered for them.

“Business?” the officer asked.

Hannah nodded. “Yes.” Her phone rang, but she paid it no attention.

The officers honored the diplomatic passports, not searching the diplomats or their plane. They seemed to have more pressing matters to attend to. After they left, Hannah checked her phone and returned the call. When her conversation ended, she said, “The Paris surveillance team picked up Xander. He was driving northward on the
Autoroute du Nord
.”

Chris peered out the plane window and spotted a driver sitting in a silver Renault with the engine running. “Who’s he?”

“Silver Renault, guy in a brown suit?” she asked before looking out the window.

“Yeah,” Chris said.

“Our driver from the Agency,” she said. “His name is Don. If it isn’t, we’re in trouble.”

They exited the plane, and their driver met them on the tarmac. He introduced himself as Don.

Hannah offered her hand. “Hannah.”

He shook it. “Welcome to Paris.”

“Happy to be here.”

It seemed like a casual exchange, but it was an exchange of predetermined bona fides, including their appearances, so each knew that the other was whom he or she was supposed to be. She nodded at Chris and Sonny, signaling that Don was legit.

Don helped them load into the Renault before speeding off the airport property and hitting the
Autoroute du Nord
. They hadn’t gotten far when the traffic crawled past an accident.

Traffic resumed speed as they passed an amusement park to the right. They sped by the patchwork of farmland they’d seen during their descent into Paris, but now Chris could see a herd of Holstein Friesan cows grazing in one of the fields. He’d once heard a French diplomat explain how eco-friendly their farms were. Farmers ran water through a pipe beside the milk to cool it down, significantly reducing their energy costs, and the same water exited the pipe and entered a trough for the cows to drink. But from the outside, the farms didn’t look so different from American farms.

They crossed over a gentle bend in the
River Somme
. It was the sight of one of the bloodiest battles of World War I, with over a million killed or wounded, but now the river was tranquil. Chris had seen his share of the horrors of war, and rather than dwell on it, he focused on the serenity of the bubbling water.

Traffic became sluggish again, this time for construction. Chris breathed deeply, channeling the calm waters, even though his mind was screaming at him to hurry.

Hannah’s phone rang. She listened for a moment, then hung up. “Xander’s heading northwest on
Autoroute des Anglais
now,” she said, the instructions clear.

Don nodded and turned off onto the highway leading to England.

“Maybe England is where Xander’s next target is,” Hannah said.

“Michael worked for United Kingdom Petroleum,” Chris said. He used his smartphone to search the internet for United Kingdom Petroleum’s headquarters. “I’ve got their address in London.”

“At the rate we’re going,” Sonny said, “Xander could swim the English Channel and walk to London before we get there.”

Chris chuckled at the truth of the statement. “Now, if Xander is heading to UKP, he could get there a number of ways, right, Don?”

“Yes, sir,” Don said. “From Calais, he could take a ferry, drive, or ride the train through the Chunnel.”

Chris nodded. “Okay, so we’ll just have to figure out which way he went.”

“That won’t be difficult at all,” Sonny said, sarcasm dripping from his words.

“Well, it’s all we’ve got.”

Nearly three hours after leaving Charles de Gaulle Airport, the trio arrived in the city of Calais, France’s gateway to England. Hannah received a call from the surveillance team, and she put it on speakerphone. “Xander parked his car at a restaurant here in Calais and went inside. When we checked to see if he was eating, he wasn’t there. He must’ve already slipped through the kitchen and out the back. His car is still sitting in the parking lot.”

“You lost him,” Hannah said. She heaved a deep sigh.

There was no reply.

“Do you think he made that move in the restaurant out of caution, or did he make it because he knew you were following him?” she asked.

“Hard to say.”

“You check the ferry, and we’ll check the Eurostar,” Hannah said.

“If he abandoned his car,” Chris said, “he might plan to take the train across.”

“Or he could’ve had another car waiting for him,” Sonny said.

“True,” Chris agreed. “Xander isn’t a freshman at losing a tail, I’m sure.”

Don drove them to the Eurostar Station at
Calais-Fréthun
, where he dropped them off. They spread out on foot, making themselves less conspicuous and a more challenging target. They blended into the crowd and entered the station, giving the appearance of normal passengers, but they were observing everyone and everything, looking for any clue as to where Xander was. They examined the area, including the restrooms.

After searching the station, Chris and Sonny stopped in front of a fast-food stall.

“This is like trying to find a preacher in a whorehouse,” Sonny said.

Chris frowned. “Instead of trying to follow Xander, we could try to anticipate where he’ll be next.”

Hannah joined them. “I just received a call from Young. He said when he hacked Xander’s laptop, his team downloaded some web-browsing history Xander had tried to delete. Young’s team discovered a lot of internet activity regarding UKP headquarters and its neighborhood in London.”

“London,” Sonny said.

“The train leaves in twenty minutes,” Hannah said. “And we still have to buy tickets and make our way through security.”

Because they were carrying pistols, they wouldn’t be able to pass through the X-ray machines, so after getting their tickets, Hannah led them through the lane for crew and VIPs. A train conductor passed through the lane ahead of them, and when the trio reached the security guard, Hannah showed her diplomatic passport. As the guard examined it, a puzzled look came over his face.

The security guard scratched his head, and a crew member came up behind them. The guard looked at Hannah, then back at her passport, again and again. He asked to see Chris’s and Sonny’s passports, as well.

Meanwhile, the crew member behind them tapped his foot impatiently. When he tried to pass them, Sonny stopped him with a stiff arm. “Hey buddy, we were in line first. You wait like the rest of us.”

The crew member became angry and shouted in French.
“Fils de salope!”
Son of a bitch! Then he complained about being late for his shift. Chris could communicate in French, in addition to being fluent in Arabic and Russian.

Sonny didn’t know French, but the crew member’s body language was clear, and Sonny smiled, eating it up, which only made the crew member raise his voice louder and spit out more obscenities.

The security guard told Hannah to wait for his superior. After arriving at the crew/VIP gate, the man gave the passports a cursory inspection.

Chris knew his passport was created by the Agency’s finest, and his confidence in the document was the critical link between the passport and the official’s approval. Such confidence could mask a minor error in a document. Likewise, the lack of confidence could raise suspicion, even if the document was perfect. Chris’s faith in his passport was solid, and the head security officer waved them through without a fuss.

As the trio walked to the Eurostar platform, Chris observed the other passengers. None of them were Xander or Animus. Minutes later, the bullet-shaped train pulled up in front of them and stopped. Its doors opened with a hydraulic hiss, and Chris’s team boarded. They located their seats and sat down.

“Who’s going to search the train?” Chris asked quietly.

“It won’t take all three of us, and we don’t want to stick out like turds in a glass of milk,” Sonny said.

“I’ll be the least conspicuous,” Hannah said.

Personally, she was the last person he’d send. He didn’t know what he’d do if something happened to her. Professionally, she was the obvious choice. He wanted to go along as a tail, but that came from his personal feelings, not his professionalism.

Hannah looked to Chris, as if waiting for a response. He kept his mouth shut and forced his head to nod approvingly.

Hannah smiled, stood up, and walked away. She passed through the doors into the next compartment and was out of sight. She was a pro at recruiting and running agents, and she was an accomplished MMA middleweight, but her shooting, although better than most CIA officers, wasn’t at the level of Chris’s or Sonny’s. And it might not be at the level of Xander’s, either. Hopefully they wouldn’t have to find out.

Speaking English with a slight French accent, the conductor announced the time in France over the loudspeaker and that the Eurostar would arrive in London in one hour. As the train pulled forward, the conductor repeated the announcement in French. Outside, sunlit poles and barricades disappeared, replaced by the blackness of the Chunnel, the Channel Tunnel. Inside, artificial lights flicked on, pushing out the darkness.

Across the aisle, a couple kissed, seemingly oblivious to the world around them. Chris remembered the first time he’d kissed Hannah. It’d been in an FBI safe house near Washington, DC, and he wished he could put the world on pause and go back there again. But the world didn’t pause, and his thoughts returned to the mission. He had to stay alert.

Sonny fidgeted in his chair, glancing over at the couple, too. Finally, he stared hard at them, as if his eyes could make them stop, but they didn’t. “He’s sucking the ugliness out of her,” he said with dismay.

Chris couldn’t help but smile, but the kissing couple remained insulated in their own world.

“Why can’t I have a girl?” Sonny said. “He’s kissing her. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Hannah, but it’s more than I got. I got bubkes.”

“Every Tier One operator I’ve ever known could get a girl to go out with him,” Chris said. “Why would you be any different?”

“Yeah, I can get a date, but the girls who are decent and nice are afraid to death to talk to me. They think I’m going to be mean to them or something. I need a girl who understands me.”

“You’ll find her.”

“What about you?” Sonny asked. “What exactly is going on between you and Hannah if you’re not banging?”

“We dated after the Switchblade Whisper op. The distance wasn’t ideal, but we made it work. I’d fly out to see her in Virginia, she’d come see me in Texas.”

“How’d that work out?”

“We enjoyed the time together,” Chris said. “But we ultimately decided just to be friends.”

“Oh.” Sonny actually sounded disappointed and stopped his line of questioning.

Nearly half an hour later, with no more conversation and no sign of Hannah, the Eurostar exited the tunnel. The artificial lights cut off, and rays of sunshine poured in from the outside as they passed the base of the White Cliffs of Dover.

Where is she?

Chris checked his watch, then turned his head to peer out the window at the green English countryside. The bullet train continued gliding hundreds of kilometers per hour, passing hop gardens and orchards. He was trying to distract himself but it wasn’t working. He checked his watch again, realizing he was still on French time. He adjusted it an hour back, so he was on London time. Then he inspected his cell phone, making sure it had automatically made the switch. He contemplated calling her, but he put his cell phone back in his pocket, putting the phone call out of his mind, as well. He glanced over at Sonny, who was updating his watch and examining his cell phone, too.