The American (A Nathan Grant Thriller Book 1) by Kenneth Rosenberg

Author:Kenneth Rosenberg [Rosenberg, Kenneth & Rosenberg, Kenneth]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-21T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Nathan peeked out from under the lifeboat cover. It was early morning and the ship was just docking in Helsinki. An announcement over the intercom requested that all vehicle passengers make their way to their cars. He waited until the deck was clear and then slid out of the boat and then stood up tall, stretching his limbs. The FSB couldn’t touch him here, officially. He was back in the European Union. The two agents who were tracking him probably didn’t have visas themselves, which meant they’d be riding the ship straight back where they came from. Another announcement directed all pedestrian passengers to assemble in the main lobby. Nathan stretched once more and then made his way inside.

The lobby itself was packed with people, all eager to disembark as soon as possible. The crowd had an impatient air, with passengers using their luggage and their bodies to box each other out, doing what they could to protect their places in the line, though the gangway door was still closed tight. Nathan found a spot along one wall, near the reception desk, and settled in. While he waited, he looked over the gathered masses, expecting that he might see Tanya and the girls from the night before. They were nowhere in sight: probably still sleeping it off was his best guess. After ten minutes and a few more announcements, he saw the two dark-suited FSB men weaving their way through the crowd toward the front. Some of the other passengers pushed the men back, arguing with them. One of the agents spotted Nathan and paused, saying a few words to his partner. There was nowhere for Nathan to go at this point. It was better to be in a crowded room than to let these guys get him alone somewhere. He crossed his arms and stared straight at them. The two men began to make their way across. Grumbles continued from the crowd, along with complaints in Russian and in Finnish. The men kept coming.

“There is a line here!” said a passenger in English. He was a large man, all of six-foot-three and two-fifty, with a round, fleshy face. He stood in the men’s way, pointing back in the direction from which they’d come. One of the FSB men shoved the passenger in the chest, but he didn’t budge. Two other passengers came to his assistance, forming a virtual wall.

“You’re gonna have to wait your turn, mates,” said one of the others.

The FSB agents were frustrated and confused. They looked at Nathan, and at the wall of bodies in front of them, and around at the other passengers who stared at them with menace. The agents said a few words to each other in Russian and then begrudgingly turned and moved back to the far side of the room. Clapping and cheers erupted. An older woman jeered at the agents, pointing a finger as she spoke in a language Nathan couldn’t identify. He smiled. They weren’t going to get to him today.

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