“He’s a Greek energy mogul with powerful Greek and American contacts, both liberal and conservative,” Michael said.
“And he’s been on the phone with your kidnappers,” Chris told him.
Michael seemed to slump down in his own skin. “I talked to him at the embassy party. He seemed like such a gentleman.”
“He does leave a good first impression,” Chris agreed. “It’s the second impression that’s a killer.”
Sonny grunted. “I didn’t like his first impression, either.”
They circled around to four blocks south of Olympus. At a stoplight, Hannah checked her phone. “I got a text message from the chief. He wants us to proceed to Olympus as planned.”
“Easy for him to say,” Chris said. Another black Mercedes came into view. “Black Mercedes to the north.”
“I see him,” Sonny confirmed.
Hannah drove calmly. “Did he see us?”
“Don’t know,” Sonny said.
“He’s running the red light,” Chris said, trying not to blow a gasket in his nerves. “They’re all around Olympus, waiting to ambush us. Either we can try to break through, or we can change course and try to make it to Minotaur.”
Their present vehicle had no GPS, so Chris used the one on his phone and touched the screen, setting a new destination. “We have a better chance making it to Minotaur.” He gave directions.
Hannah drove onto a roundabout for a brief moment before exiting and turning left, taking them southwest.
Chris glanced at his phone. “The port leading to Minotaur is about seventeen klicks from here.”
“The Mercedes is following us,” Sonny said. “The passenger is talking into a cell phone.”
At the intersection of Epidavrou and Lenorman, a white BMW ran a red light and swung out beside them. Before Hannah could avoid the vehicle, the distinct sound of 7.62 mm bullets banged. The noise of the shots echoed off buildings, pumping up the intensity of the sound. The projectiles struck the rear passenger door next to Michael with the fury of a jackhammer, making Chris’s body shudder. The shots came so fast it almost sounded like full auto. He had been in gunfights with amateurs and professionals, and this sounded like the latter.
His heart rate jumped and his breathing became shallow and rapid. He had no time to slow it all down, only time to react. He turned his head over his right shoulder and spotted the shooter. “Xander!”
Michael was down on the floor, and Sonny returned fire, blasting through Michael’s window at Xander, but Xander had already ducked to avoid the salvo.
From Chris’s angle, he couldn’t shoot Xander without possibly hitting a cluster of pedestrians, but he did have a clear shot at the driver. Chris pressed his pistol against the window, to prevent getting sprayed in the face with the glass, and squeezed the trigger. He thought he hit the driver with the first shot, but there was no immediate reaction as he continued to squeeze. His second shot clearly landed, spraying crimson on the shattered window. Chris fired again for good measure.
The driver’s head flopped to the side, and Xander’s BMW veered off the road until it struck a building, crumpling the front of the vehicle and stopping it.
Hannah sped forward, racing southwest. Chris checked the view to the rear. Xander’s white BMW sat dead on the side of the road.
“Shit!” Sonny exclaimed.
“Are you hit?” Chris asked, turning toward him.
Sonny held one hand against Michael’s head and another on the side of his neck, his fingers feeling for a pulse. When he pulled his hands away, they were bloody. “At least one of Xander’s rounds penetrated the door. One of them hit Michael in the head,” Sonny said, sadness filling his voice. “He’s dead.”
Chris’s soul dropped out of his body, and a heavy cloud of discouragement descended on him. The cloud was so thick he thought he might choke on it. As a child, while his parents were diplomats in Damascus, Chris and a classmate were kidnapped in front of their elementary school. Chris was later rescued, but Nikkia died in captivity. A part of Chris died with her that day, and the part that survived wished it had died, too. He’d packed away the sorrow he felt then, but seeing Michael’s dead body had opened up old wounds. Now he wanted to cry but didn’t have the energy.
Hannah called the chief and reported. When she hung up, she said, “They want us to go to Minotaur.”
The ride to the port of Pairaeus was a blur. Chris was too out of it to notice what had become of their shot-up vehicle. They were met by a small US Navy vessel, which shuttled them across the Mediterranean Sea, but while Chris went through the motions, it was as if the black cloud of despair had magically transported him from Athens to Crete.
7
Xander’s servant led Animus through the house to the master bedroom, where the walls were as white as the exterior of the mansion. The swinging windowed doors to his veranda were locked, but the curtains were open, displaying the Aegean Sea as it reflected the sapphire sky.
“I’m checking my bug-out bag to make sure I have everything needed to sustain myself until we reach London and our mission cache there,” Xander said. “The Americans will be looking for us here. The Hellenic Police will be looking for us, too.” He took a look around. “I’m going to miss this house.” He peered out the window. “And the view.” His eyes returned to his bug-out bag. “But in this job, adapting is the key to survival, and adapt we must.”
“Yes, sir.” Animus was going to miss Athens, too. He was born here, and although he thought he’d die in Athens, it now occurred to him he might die in London. Even if he survived, he might very well be the lone survivor. But dying was something Xander never talked about, and Animus didn’t dare to mention it for fear of crossing some unmarked line.
“Is Evelina packed?” Xander asked.
“Almost,” Animus said. “That’s what I came to talk to you about.”
Xander stopped what he was doing. “My bag was all packed a minute ago, and I guess it will all still be there no matter how many times I check.” He turned to Animus. “Is there a problem?”
“Evelina doesn’t seem sure she wants to go with us on this mission.”
“Does not seem sure?” Xander said with disbelief in his tone.
“She said she doesn’t feel she has enough training or experience.”
“What do you think?” Xander asked.
“I agree. But I didn’t tell her that. I didn’t tell her anything. I just listened.”
“Do you think she should come with us?”
Animus looked him in the eye. “I think she’s right.”
“I agree,” Xander said. “She should stay here.”
“You do?”
“Yes, I think she is no match for the people we are dealing with…” Xander glanced at his watch.
“But…?”
“But she told me something different. She told me she still blames the West for December twenty-first when her mother was killed. It is why we still call ourselves 21D in the first place. Evelina wants revenge. More than ever. She told me she wants to go with us no matter what.”
Animus was puzzled at the contradiction. “Why would she tell me she’s not sure and tell you she’s going no matter what?”
Xander shrugged. “She probably does not want you to know these demands she is placing on me and the mission.”
“She’s afraid I’ll be angry,” Animus said.
“While she is not prepared, I am afraid she will take off like a loose cannon if we leave her here. She will do her own thing and interfere with Phase Two. We will not be able to protect her. It will be better for her, and us, if we go to London together.”
Animus nodded sadly. “I just don’t want anything to happen to her.”