Chris took hold of her hand. It wasn’t hard for him to act like he had romantic feelings for her. He opened the door to all his boxed-up emotions and stepped inside, and his feelings for her were in the crate closest to the door. He didn’t need a crowbar to pry off the lid, either. She turned her face to him. Her eyes were smiling, and he sensed that her feelings for him were close to the door, too.
They strolled through the neighborhood of white stone mansions. The Aegean Sea came into view, and they stopped at a street corner and carefully observed Xander’s place. It seemed dead in comparison to the last time they’d visited. They continued until they reached Xander’s property, where they followed the cobblestone pathway to the front door. Hannah and Sonny readied their pistols, covering Chris while he picked the lock. Once it was disengaged, he opened the door and the three of them slipped inside. Chris drew his pistol then, too.
Beyond the entrance hall, they passed the grand piano and walked across the black marble floor. The spacious main room with the grand fireplace seemed empty without the crowd of people. They searched the house, but Xander’s laptop was gone and there was nothing of significant interest left, not even his staff.
They spent the rest of the day and all night in the mansion, waiting for Xander or one of his staff to return. Chris didn’t think he’d have to resort to pain killers while they waited, but the swelling around his bullet wound pressed against a nerve that ran between his shoulder and the base of his skull, causing him torment all along the nerve. He muttered some f-bombs before surrendering to a pill to relieve the hurt.
Swearing had always been a vice of his, but only once in his lifetime had he used the Lord’s name in vain. It was in elementary school, and guilt had riddled him immediately after. He never did it again. Once he began studying to become a pastor, he’d stopped swearing cold turkey, and when he became an assistant pastor, he’d continued to abstain. However, when he resumed doing black ops part time for the Agency and came under fire, he couldn’t stop the curses from falling out of his mouth. Old habits really did die hard.
Hannah and Sonny let him sleep while they took the first watch. Chris rested on his left side to give his shoulder some relief and fell into a deep sleep…
It was right after the Switchblade Whisper mission, and Chris flew from Dallas to Arlington to pick up Hannah in the dark of the morning. He drove from her house to the National Mall, and they sat down beneath Abe’s feet, on the top step of the Lincoln Memorial. They drank hot cocoa as they watched the sun surge up the horizon, the sky becoming a swirl of orange and grape sherbet, split open by the Washington Monument. The trees cast shadows on the ground, creating a V-shaped border. The long mirror image shone in the reflecting pool, which was smooth until ducks floated by, releasing ripples across the water.
Moisture formed in the white edges of Hannah’s chocolate-brown eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Chris asked.
She sipped her drink, the sun casting a warm radiance across her face. “I’ve been here before, and I’ve seen sunrises, but I’ve never been here at sunrise. It’s too beautiful.”
He’d seen sunrises around the world, and he’d seen Hannah, but he’d never seen Hannah at sunrise. She was too beautiful. He wanted to tell her so, but he worried that words would somehow get in the way. When she turned to look at him, he kissed her, and her lips tasted like the sweetest cocoa.
By morning, Xander still hadn’t shown. On the upside, although still feeling discomfort in his shoulder, Chris was in less pain. The medicine and the sleep seemed to have helped.
They returned to their Athens hotel to change and discuss what to do next. When a call came from Young, Hannah put it on the speaker.
“NSA just picked up Xander’s cell phone signal at Athens International Airport,” he said.
“Showtime!” Sonny exclaimed.
They dashed out of their room and to the parking lot. Hannah remained on speakerphone with Young, who was communicating real time with NSA, updating Xander’s location. Once in their car, Sonny drove them to the airport, arriving there in fifteen minutes.
“Can’t tell if Xander is inside the main terminal or outside,” Young said.
They parked and headed in that direction. “We’re nearing a main entrance, now,” Hannah said.
“Xander seems to be left of your position,” Young said. “Possibly outside of the terminal.”
Chris thought Xander would be going to the airport to catch a plane. Why would he be outside of the terminal?
The three shifted to Xander’s direction, but he wasn’t there. “The only person over there is a smaller guy, dark complexion,” Hannah said.
“He may not be Xander,” Young said, “but maybe he has Xander’s phone.”
“Okay, we’ll check it out. Call you back soon,” she said and then hung up, tucking the phone in her pocket.
The three approached the man.
“Excuse me,” Hannah said when they got close enough for him to hear. But the man waved her off and walked past, heading in the direction of the parking lot.
The SOG three turned around, and Sonny called to the man, “Hey, asshole!”
The man picked up his pace to a trot, and the trio trotted after him. Then he full-out ran. Chris, Hannah, and Sonny ran, too.
The man looked over his shoulder, huffing and puffing. “Why you chase me?” he asked.
“Because you’re running,” Sonny called.
“Stop chasing me!”
“Stop running!”
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.”