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.
Chris said a silent prayer for Hannah’s safe return and tried to take in the countryside, but he couldn’t. The next time he checked his watch, only another minute had passed. He had no more patience. “I can’t wait anymore.”
He stood, and Sonny didn’t argue this time. Chris walked down the aisle and opened the doors with more strength than he needed, causing them to bang against the frame as loudly as his anxious heartbeat. Breathe, he told himself. He used to breathe deep and slow, visualizing something calm to lower his heart and breathing rates, but now he could skip the visualization and cut straight to the calm. Breathe.
He’d only walked partway into the adjoining car when Hannah entered the doors at the opposite end. She seemed okay, so Chris turned around and returned to his seat beside Sonny.
Soon, Hannah joined them.
“Well?” Sonny asked.
“Nothing,” she said. “I can’t find a trace of him. There were some private compartments I couldn’t search, and I didn’t examine every inch of the train, of course, so it’s possible he’s here, and I missed him. I don’t know.”
Soon, the English countryside gave way to small towns then big cities, bigger and bigger until they started blending together, and it became difficult to tell where one city ended and the next began.
“We need to find a nice hotel close to UKP headquarters,” Hannah said. “Not only for us, but Xander wouldn’t stay in anything less than five-star himself. We need some idea of where he could be hiding out.”
Chris nodded and called around for reservations.
“There’s an international financial symposium in town, and most of the hotels are already booked,” he reported afterward, “but the Grosvenor House still has vacancies. I reserved two rooms. The hotel also happens to be within a five-minute walk of the US embassy.”
“We can use a taxi,” Hannah said. “But rather than go directly to our destination, I think we need to plan an SDR. Maybe take the cab to a different hotel, go inside to shake off any surveillance, and take another taxi to our actual destination. After checking in, we’ll do another SDR, leaving the hotel and pay a visit to the London CIA Chief at the embassy to solicit support.”
“You’re the SDR expert,” Chris said, referring to Hannah’s Agency expertise in Surveillance Detection Routes.
“Works for me,” Sonny said.
The bilingual conductor announced they were arriving in London then, and the train came to a stop at Saint Pancras International Station. Because Chris still had no idea where Xander was, he was hyper-alert. After stepping off the Eurostar, they found a black cab with an illuminated yellow sign on the hood that read TAXI.
Chris didn’t see anyone following them, but something deep down in his bones told him something bad was about to happen.
10
Still unable to shake his unease, Chris discreetly inspected his surroundings. Because their actual destination was southwest, he had the driver take them in the opposite direction, northeast to Nags Head Towne Centre. Chris paid the driver, and then he and his teammates hopped out and melted into the crowd, exited the other side of the shopping center, found another taxi, and told him the route they wanted to take to their hotel. An added benefit of using a second taxi was that the first driver didn’t know their final destination, and the second driver wouldn’t know where they started.
The driver took them past the London Zoo, Regent’s Park, and the Sherlock Holmes Museum before riding along Park Lane, where they entered through black wrought iron gates and stopped in front of the Grosvenor House, which stood seven stories tall, one of the sky-kissing hotels in London.
They went through the revolving doors and entered the lobby. “See anyone?” Chris asked.
Hannah shook her head. “We’re still clean.”
“Saw some dudes in need of serious dental work,” Sonny said.
They checked in at the front desk and went up to their rooms — Chris and Sonny in one and Hannah next door, both their windows overlooking Hyde Park. Chris drew his pistol and press-checked it, finding a cartridge ready in the chamber. He looked in the closet and behind the shower curtain, but no one was there waiting for him. The room was clear.
He ejected the magazine from his pistol and pressed on the top round. It hardly moved, indicating that the cartridges were packed in tight and the magazine was full. After reinserting the magazine into his pistol, he examined the extra magazines on his belt, and they were maxed out, too. Unable to figure out the source of his paranoia, he dismissed it.
An hour later, they entered the US embassy. Sonny stayed in the reception area while Chris and Hannah entered the Agency chief of station’s office. It was a spacious room for a London office, and the station chief sat in a high-backed leather chair behind a grand wooden desk.