Their eyes met, and the man's right hand darted inside his dark suit jacket.
Use the crowd, Vance thought. Enough hand-to-hand heroics. These guys mean business.
Since the pile of luggage coming off the bus separated them, he had an advantage now, if only for a second or so. Without thinking he seized the straps of a canvas knapsack sitting on the sidewalk with his free hand and flung it with all his strength.
It caught his attacker squarely in the chest, breaking his rhythm and knocking him back half a step. It was only a moment's reprieve, but it was all Vance needed to disappear around the rear of the bus, which was pouring black exhaust into the evening air, blocking all view of the avenue. Maybe he could move fast enough to just disappear.
As he dashed into the honking traffic, headlights half blinding him, he surveyed the street opposite looking for the Alfa.
There? No. There?
A pair of headlights swerved by, inches away, accompanied by honking and a cursing Greek driver. Only a few feet more now and he'd be across.
There. A blue Alfa. It had to be the one.
But it was already moving, its front wheels turning inward as the Hertz attendant backed it around to begin pulling out.
He wrenched open the door and seized a brown sleeve. The arm inside belonged to a young Greek, barely twenty, his uniform grease-covered and wrinkled. He looked up, surprise in his eyes, and grabbed for the door handle.