From Russia Without Love by Stephen Templin Page B

crowd, who screamed as she fell. Chris’s respiration and pulse calmed down a notch, and he aimed at the guard’s head and squeezed the trigger. Pop! Gray brain matter spilled, and the guard fell to the asphalt as if he’d been pasted there. Screams came from all directions.
    Pop! Another gunshot sounded. Then more gunshots. It sounded like Hannah and Sonny were shooting it out with the Albanians, but Chris couldn’t be sure. His adrenaline was pumping so wildly out of control he couldn’t tell whether he’d even been shot.
    “Michael Winthrop, I’m from the United States government!” Chris blurted. “I’m here to save you!”
    Michael turned and stared at him, his expression a mix of fear and confusion.
    While helping Michael to his feet, Chris glanced behind him. One of the guard’s comrades lay in the street, moving slowly, and the other seemed to have taken cover around the corner. The slow-moving Albanian aimed up at the Pakistani’s window. Another gangster appeared in the doorway and aimed there, too. He could see Hannah now on the street level while Sonny remained upstairs providing overwatch, both firing at the Albanians.
    With the fire in the building next door and the shootout in the street, a handful of the civilians waved their hands wildly and cried out. Chris had seen such pandemonium before. Some helped those in need, some ran away, some froze, and others collapsed.
    In the pair of hostage rescues Chris had performed, he hadn’t lost a hostage. Each rescue was intensely personal, and he wasn’t about to lose Michael now. There was no time to waste; he had to trust Hannah and Sonny to cover his six, and he didn’t have time to worry about their safety. He had to get Michael to the car… two blocks away.
    Chris pushed at the small of Michael’s back, propelling him forward, and Michael tripped. “Pick up your feet,” Chris told him.
    Michael did so with a whimper, picking up his feet and putting them down, but he wasn’t going fast enough. The longer it took Michael to move, the more chance there was that none of them would make it out alive.
    Chris grabbed a handful of Michael’s trousers near the small of his back and lifted him up while pushing him forward, giving him a boost. In spite of his efforts, it still felt like they were moving in slow motion.
    The Albanians are going to overtake us any minute now.
    They turned the corner to head south, but Michael stumbled again, slowing them down. Chris pulled him to his feet and put his arm around Michael’s shoulder, shifting much of the young man’s weight onto himself, helping them move faster. They hurried south one block and then another, the gunshots behind them continuing.
    Chris spotted the BMW. He pressed onward and assisted Michael into the backseat before he took the driver’s seat. “I’m taking you to safety. You’re going to be okay.” Now Chris was too busy scanning for threats to see if Michael was even responding. Chris spotted no threats in the immediate vicinity, and when he put his key in and turned it, the vehicle started without any problems.
    Hannah appeared around the corner then, sprinting faster than he’d ever seen her run. When she reached the vehicle, she gasped, “Sonny is right behind me.” After taking her position beside him in the passenger seat and closing the door, she tapped the GPS screen and set the US embassy as their destination. “I called the station chief and told him we have the PC and we’re gunning it out with Albanians, so now the chief is on the phone requesting approval from Washington for Six’s assistance.”
    Come on, Sonny, where are you?
    Gunshots sounded again, and Sonny charged around the corner like a bull with its ass on fire. “Enemy right behind me!” he shouted. He jumped into the car. Michael grunted as Sonny landed on him in the backseat. “Get us out of here!”
    Without waiting for Sonny’s door to close, Chris stomped on the accelerator. The BMW leaped forward