From Russia Without Love

by Stephen Templin

  “That’d be a hell of an improvement,” Sonny mumbled.

  Minutes later, they reached a white stone mansion perched on a bluff with a spectacular view of the setting sun. Below, the the dark-blue waters of the Aegean Sea contrasted the light-blue sky. Chris parked on the street behind several luxury cars, allowing enough space for their SOG team to make a quick getaway if necessary.

  Walking onto Xander’s property, they traversed a cobblestone pathway, past olive trees and grapevines, until they reached a thick oak door. Chris pulled out his cell phone and tapped it until his audio recording app came on, and he pressed Record before returning his phone to his pocket.

  Sonny knocked.

  Chris did a quick scan of their surroundings. If shit hit the fan and they were split up, the ocean was within walking distance, and he’d take to the sea and kick-stroke-and-glide while Hannah and Sonny escaped through the city.

  There was no answer at the door, so Sonny knocked harder.

  Finally, a tall man opened the door. Chris sized him up as being fit and about his same height, but the gray in the man’s beard marked him as older. Chris introduced Hannah, Sonny, and himself.

  “Ah, yes, the legal attachés. I’m Xander Metaxas,” he said, his voice like honey. “Ambassador Garcia told me you were coming. I am so sorry to hear about Mr. Winthrop. Please, come in.”

  Inside the entrance hall, the high wooden ceiling was finely carved, and a grand piano stood to the side. The black marble floor looked somewhat dated, but it was shiny and clearly expensive.

  “Nice floor,” Chris said.

  “Thank you.” Xander led them across the hall. “This house has seen a fair amount of remodeling since the eighteenth century, but the floor is original. It is called Ashford Black Marble, imported from England, but it is actually limestone.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Hannah said as Xander gestured them into a spacious main room where a cluster of guests stood next to a grand fireplace and a butler served drinks to the guests standing under a crystal chandelier.

  “A house as fancy as this,” Sonny said with a snort, “and I’d think you’d at least be able to afford a new floor.”

  Chris clenched his teeth, and Xander gave Sonny a quizzical look. The New Yorker was going to get them into trouble before they could find anything out. Chris needed to find some way to build a rapport with Xander. And fast.

  Xander was wearing what appeared to be a Yale ring. “I see you’re a Yale grad.” He pointed to the man’s hand.

  Xander nodded. “Did you graduate from Yale, too?”

  “Harvard, actually,” Chris said.

  Hannah smiled at Xander, then at Chris. “Sonny and I will let you two exchange Ivy League stories.” She looped her arm through Sonny’s and pulled him along.

  “Yes, please, help yourselves,” Xander said.

  She bowed her head graciously, and they strolled deeper into the house, where most of the guests were congregated.

  Xander turned to Chris, a calm, carefree smile on his face. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No, thank you.” His purpose here was to find out about the hostage’s kidnapping, and having a purpose helped him to relax. He didn’t need a drink to do that for him.

  “I had a friend in Harvard,” Xander said. “Which dorm were you in?”

  “Wigglesworth Hall.”

  “Ah. I do not know it. Sadly, I only visited the campus once.”

  Chris directed the conversation back to Xander’s own experience. “Yale is an excellent university. And now you own Athens Sustainable Energy. That’s quite the accomplishment.”

  Xander nodded. “The earth’s resources are finite, so we must manage them effectively. Our descendants’ survival depends on it. The twin pillars of my company are energy efficiency and renewable energy.”

  “Do you see yourself in competition with fossil fuels?” Chris asked.

  Xander shook his head. “Not at all. The human race can only survive off dead organisms for so long. We’re living on borrowed time. Whether Athens realizes it or not, she needs me. If not today, tomorrow.”

  “Michael Winthrop is living on borrowed time… if he’s still alive,” Chris said, carefully watching the man’s reaction.

  But Xander kept his face tranquil and his words even. “Yes, we attended the same embassy party. I first heard about the kidnapping on the news. It is terrible. And today your ambassador called me. Words desert me.”

  “I was hoping maybe you could help us.”

  “Of course, whatever I can do,” Xander said. “Though I am not sure I will be of much use.”

  “What do you know about 21D? The kidnappers?”

  “Only what I hear in the news. They are a pro-Marxist terrorist group with a history of attacks here in Greece. And they oppose the EU and NATO. That is about all I know.” A knock sounded at the door, but Xander ignored it. “I did not know Mr. Winthrop personally, but I hope he will be okay.”

  “Do you have any idea what 21D stands for?”

  Xander shook his head. The knock came again, but no one answered and Xander continued to ignore it.

  “Have you ever talked to Michael before?” Chris asked.

  “Not that I recall. There were a number of people at the party. It is possible we exchanged words.” The knock turned into a pounding now. “I am sorry. I am short one staff member. If you will excuse me.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Xander left and answered the door. More guests poured in, and he chatted leisurely with them. Chris waited a few minutes, but when Xander didn’t return, he mingled with the other guests, keeping an eye on the host at all times.

  The first two guests he approached spoke English as a lingua franca, and despite their European accents, their English was excellent.

  “…NATO wants to recruit Ukraine as one of its members, so NATO can box Russia in,” said a bespectacled man.

  The woman nodded in agreement, her gaze piercing Chris’s as she made eye contact. “Russia has a right to use its military to help Russophones in Ukraine.”

  The man took a sip of his drink. “The Russian government just wants to bring legitimacy and stability to the region.”

  “Exactly,” the woman said. “They merely want law and order.”

  “And peace,” the man added.

  “Yes!” she agreed.

  Chris listened quietly. Both of them sounded too socialist for his blood, and although he agreed Russia had a right to defend its land and its people, he firmly opposed Russia’s military intervention in Ukraine. He politely excused himself and roamed the room looking for someone who might actually be willing to help him find Michael.

  He suddenly remembered his recording cell phone, took it out, and pressed Stop. Then he used his phone to upload the recording to a colleague’s website. The colleague, who was also a dear friend, was Young Park, a brilliant Agency tech who’d left the CIA but still did contract work. Then Chris sent an encrypted message requesting a voice-match analysis. Young ran a twenty-four-hour service, so he or one of his assistants would respond soon.

  Hannah emerged from behind a group of people.

  “Where’s Sonny?” Chris asked.

  “Eating,” Hannah said with an eye roll. “Did you learn anything from Xander?”

  “He claims he doesn’t know much.”

  “With all his connections?” She quirked a brow. “That seems unlikely. Greece is attempting to recover from massive debt, and Xander is living like a king. Look around you. He spends his money freely, but he’s stingy with information.”

  “He did invite us here,” Chris said.

  Hannah frowned. “So we wouldn’t suspect him of any wrongdoing.”

  “And he was kind enough to talk to me,” Chris countered.

  “A small sacrifice on his part,” Hannah said. “The cost of retaining information.”

  “This might be easier if you try to enjoy it,” Chris said.

  Her voice was cold. “For some of us
, life has never been easy.”

  He frowned. Somehow the topic had changed very quickly. “You mean growing up in East LA?”

  “The haves eat the have-nots,” she said. “My mother and I were the have-nots.”

  Sonny appeared then, chewing a mouthful of food and tugging on his tie. “I’m tired of this monkey suit, and I’ve lived in better zoos.”

  Hannah put her hand on Sonny’s shoulder. “I need you to come help me with something.”

  Sonny grinned at Chris, as if to emphasize that Hannah had invited him to go with her rather than Chris.

  “We’ll be right back,” Hannah said.

  Before Chris could ask where they were going, she and Sonny were gone. Chris was grateful to her for keeping Sonny occupied, though. Operators like him were game changers to have in combat, but when the bullets weren’t flying, they could be difficult to keep out of trouble.

  Chris surveyed the room, his gaze landing on a woman in her twenties who was smiling at him. She had an easy-going expression and blond highlights in her light-brown, shoulder-length hair. He returned the smile before he realized who she was. The woman in the video of the embassy party… Xander’s daughter, Evelina.

  She disappeared in the crowd; his heartbeat quickened as he searched for her, and it continued to hammer steadily. She could have information about Michael’s disappearance. He spotted her again, and she smiled at him again before exiting the house through a pair of French doors.

  As Chris followed her outside, a brief panic grew in his chest. These same people were at the party where Michael was taken. If they were involved…

  Will someone try to kidnap me, too?

  No. That was silly. And even if they tried, he was well armed and had his team here for support. He took a deep breath and approached Evelina, who now sat in a lounge chair near an infinity pool. The sun had dropped behind the mansion, casting a shadow on the backyard.

  “Mind if I join you?” he asked.

  She gestured for him to have a seat. “Please.” Her miniskirt exposed most of her legs, and she held a handkerchief in her lap. “I noticed you the moment you walked in.”

  He sat down across from her. “Have we met before?” he asked, worried for a second that maybe she knew him from somewhere and his cover as a legal attaché was in danger.

  “No, this is the first time.” She pulled her handkerchief farther up her lap, exposing the gap between her miniskirt and her thighs, showing the white triangle of her panties.

  Is she showing me this on purpose, or is this an accident? Pastor Luther had told him, Look once, you’re human; look twice, you’re not a pastor.

  Chris lifted his gaze and focused on her eyes. “Are you a friend of Xander’s?” he asked, pretending not to know the answer. By asking a question she could answer truthfully, he could establish a baseline for her posture and speech when she was telling the truth. Then he could use deviations from the baseline to help him detect her lies.

  “He’s my father,” she said, leaning forward with a smile.

  Chris returned the smile. “Really?”

  Abruptly, her eyes shifted to the French doors. She pushed her handkerchief forward and inched her chair away from Chris. He turned and saw a handsome man in his mid-twenties, with long blond hair and blue eyes. He stood there with a surprised look on his face as if he’d just been mugged.

  The man made a slight motion with his hand that seemed as if he was about to apologize for interrupting what he hadn’t heard. Suddenly, the backyard felt crowded. Quiet filled the air, awkward as an elephant, but the man appeared even more awkward, as if suspended in time and not knowing if he were coming or going. His eyes lowered first, then his head. And he walked back into the house.

  “Do you know him?” Chris asked.

  “That’s Animus… my fiancé,” she said. “He’s also Daddy’s protégé.”

  “Oh?”

  She leaned forward. “Why’d you come here? To Greece?”

  “My name is Chris. I’m a legal attaché for the US State Department,” he said. “I’m searching for information about the kidnapped American, Michael Winthrop.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Is something wrong?”

  She fidgeted with her handkerchief. “Nothing.”

  “You seem troubled.”

  “You better go,” she said in response.

  Chris paused for a moment. “A moment ago you were smiling…”

  “You should really go.”

  “Do you know something about Michael’s kidnapping?” he pressed.

  “You have to go. Now.”

  “I can protect you,” Chris said. “Michael’s life is in danger.”

  Abruptly, she stood up. “I’m sorry.” She walked briskly across the patio, opened a French door, and disappeared inside the mansion.

  Having stumbled upon something important, he felt dazed. Somehow, Xander or his family was involved. Concern for Hannah and Sonny filled him at the thought, and he hurried into the mansion. Once inside, he slowed down and tried to present an appearance of calm. There seemed to be nearly a hundred people inside the mansion now, and although Xander continued to mingle with his guests, Hannah and Sonny were nowhere in sight. He checked one of the restrooms, but it was empty. After more searching, he found Sonny in a hall, but he shooed Chris away. Maybe Hannah was searching for intel inside one of the rooms while Sonny stood watch.

  Chris returned to the main room and waited. Feeling conspicuously alone, he spotted some guests serving themselves from a wide silver platter of hors d’oeuvres and realized he still hadn’t eaten anything. He made his way toward the table. Xander and a gaggle of guests flowed through the crowd in his direction, heading for the hors d’oeuvres, too, until Chris and Xander stood almost face-to-face.

  “I met your daughter,” Chris told him.

  “Oh?” Xander raised an eyebrow. “I was not aware she was here.”

  “She seems like a nice girl.” Chris ate a cube of feta cheese from a toothpick that also skewered an olive and some meat.

  Xander glanced around the room. “She must have come through another door.” His gaze returned to Chris, and his normally smooth demeanor ruffled around the edges. “What did you two talk about?”

  “Nothing much. My understanding is that she was at the embassy party with you the same night Michael disappeared.”

  Xander picked up a drink without hesitating or trembling and took a sip. “Yes, she was,” he said, his voice equally smooth once more.

  “I’d like to ask you another question, if I may.” Chris ate the olive from his toothpick.

  “Yes, of course.”

  “How strongly do you support the creation of TAP in Greece?”

  The mention of TAP seemed to cause the ears of nearby guests to perk up, and heads turned in their direction. Xander didn’t answer.

  “The Trans-Adriatic Pipeline?” Chris clarified, popping the piece of meat into his mouth.

  “Yes, I know what TAP is,” Xander said impatiently.

  “Would you say you support it strongly?”

  Xander’s eyes were calm. “It is not for me to support or oppose.”

  “I like how you put that,” Chris said with a nod.

  “How is that?” Xander asked.

  Chris forced a grin. “Carefully.”

  Xander stared.

  “Maybe you can help me understand how you feel about Michael Winthrop’s kidnapping,” Chris whispered, glancing around. Now others were not only looking but listening to their conversation.

  Xander frowned. “As I said, it is a terrible thing. I hope he is rescued soon.”

  Chris’s gut told him Xander was lying, but he kept the tone of his voice polite. “Thank you. I’m sorry to have bothered you.”

  “No bother. I hope he is rescued soon.” He picked up his drink. “Now if you do not mind, I would like to talk to some more of my guests.”

  “Certainly.”

  Xander walked away, and Chris coul
dn’t get over how calm and cool he was—too cool.

  He felt a gentle hand on his back and glanced over his shoulder.

  “What were you two talking about?” Hannah asked, Sonny standing beside her.

  Chris looked for a trash receptacle to dispose of his toothpick but saw none, so he handed it to one of the wait staff. “I’ll explain in the car. Are we ready to go?”

  Hannah and Sonny nodded and followed him as he weaved through the crowd toward the front door. Outside, they loaded into the BMW, and Chris flicked on the lights and drove away from Xander’s estate.

  Hannah checked the side-view mirror. “Sonny guarded the hall while I gained physical access to the laptop in Xander’s study,” she reported. “You remember after our last mission how Young showed us how to bypass the login?”

  Chris nodded, focused on both Hannah and the road.

  “I got into Xander’s laptop and logged into Young’s website.” One merely needed to use the target’s device to log into Young’s website and then he could access the device remotely and begin hacking. Then he could install hidden monitoring software that wouldn’t show up in the start menu, control panel, or index. Using the hidden software, he could keep a keystroke log of e-mails, chats, and other internet usage. In addition, the monitoring software took routine screen captures. “Young is hacking Xander’s computer as we speak.”

  Chris grinned.

  “What?” Hannah asked.

  “I actually sent Young a digital recording of my conversation with Xander and asked for a voice match. The more time I spend around that man, the more my spider senses tingle.”

  “Me, too.”

  “Me, three,” Sonny said.

  4

  _______

  In the villa north of the pool, Animus stood in the living room while Evelina sat slouching on the sofa. “What was that all about?” he asked.

  “What was what all about?”

  “Who was he?”

  “Who was who?” Evelina said innocently.

  He was determined to get an answer. “You know who I’m talking about,” he said.

  She sighed. “If you must know, his name is Chris. He’s a legal attaché from the US Embassy.”