Free From Russia Without Love by Stephen Templin

team north.
    “You’re going the wrong way,” Sonny complained through clenched teeth.
    “They’re waiting for us between here and the embassy,” Chris said. “Need to try to circle around and find another way in.”
    As Chris led them north between buildings, men’s voices came from the south, speaking Russian. “Gde oni?” Where are they?
    Chris patrolled north through the concrete jungle until the Russian voices became distant to the south. He found a good hiding place under a landing of a staircase outside an apartment building. It was a tight fit, but it kept them out of sight for the most part.
    We need a vehicle.
    He signaled for the others to stay hidden while he searched. It was slim pickings, but parked on the street was a dark-blue Nissan Qashqai, a combination of a compact car, station wagon, and SUV. Chris picked the lock, hopped inside, and hot-wired the engine before driving to the others.
    Chris got out to let Hannah drive and helped Sonny and Michael into the rear before hurrying to the passenger seat and slamming the door behind him. She drove counterclockwise in a wide circle around the roads surrounding the embassy.
    Chris surveyed the streets for trouble but saw no sign of Xander, the Russians, or the Albanians. He looked back at Michael. “What do you know about Xander?”
    “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