“Yep.” She turned on the car and sped off toward the closest Autobahn. “They just passed through Trier.”
“Jake and the woman? How do you know that?”
She smiled. “German Polizei.”
“How’d you get them to cooperate? Better yet, how did they find them so fast?”
“German Intel wanted me to do their job for them. They let me see the license plate of Alexandra’s car, knowing I would contact the Polizei to track down the auto.”
“And you went along with this? Why?”
She was still trying to figure that out herself. But she needed the Polizei and the BND. “People use each other in this business all the time. It all works out in the end. They didn’t want to make a direct request, since she works for them. But now they can go ahead and call the Polizei and ask who’s been asking. Of course they won’t find out it was me. I used an FBI persona.”
Franz shook his head. “But I’m still confused. How did they track down the license so fast?”
“You honestly don’t know? I mentioned it to Martin Mayer.” She mocked the man’s first name.
“RFID? I thought you were kidding.”
“You see the look on Mayer’s face? I was briefed a year ago on the German system, which has been in place for almost five years now. They’ve been implanting RFID in newly issued license plates. Since plates only last four years, they should have full coverage by now.”
“Why don’t I know about this?”
“It’s one of Germany’s best kept secrets.”
“This is amazing. Big Brother. But your car is from Austria. So they can’t track any car coming from other EU countries.”
“Not yet, with the exception of the Swiss. But they put their RFID in their Autobahn stickers.”
“Brilliant. Not only are they being tracked, but they’re paying for the privilege.”
“I hear Austria is coming next,” she said.
He lowered his head. “As a Polizei officer I can see the benefit. But as a citizen…”
She agreed. Big Brother was great when you needed him, but as Jake could find out, not so good if you’re on the run. Toni only hoped nobody else was using the technology. But she guessed it was only a matter of time before the system made it to America. God knew they could sure use it to catch criminals. Yet, a part of her longed for the days when one still had to get up from the sofa to change channels.
14
It had taken Gustav Vogler’s assistant, Andreas Grosskreuz, a few hours to access the proper video with the Turk walking from the train through the main train terminal in Berlin’s central area, and finally dropping off a bag in a locker before scooting down to the U-bahn connection that would bring him to his final destination — the site of his death by strangulation and broken neck.
Grosskreuz had to break open three lockers to find the right one. The one with the backpack that contained an automatic handgun, a Glock 17, along with paperwork that provided Gustav with a direction that he hadn’t expected.
Now, Gustav sat in his office looking over the papers, his assistant in a chair across from him eagerly waiting for his boss’s response to his find.
They’d brought in lunch and ate their curry wurst and fries as each took turns flipping through the paperwork.
“What do you think?” Gustav finally asked his young associate.
Andreas had his laptop computer on the edge of Gustav’s desk, open to a website referenced in the papers. “This is interesting. It looks like our Turkish friend not only printed up the location for this meeting, but also for a meeting of some sort in Innsbruck.”
“Check on that address with Austrian State Polizei,” Gustav ordered.
Andreas started clicking away on his computer. “I can do that quicker through Interpol.” After a few moments he said, “Wow. You’re not going to believe this.”
Gustav turned the laptop toward him and read what his associate had found. “A hit of some sort. Another Turk killed by this American in his apartment.”
“And now a Red Notice out on this American,” Andreas said. “What’s going on?”
Quickly picking up his phone, Gustav punched in a number and waited. “You run the gun through Interpol’s database?” he said briskly into the phone. He listened carefully, his eyes drifting toward Andreas and a smile forming on the edge of his mouth. “Thanks. No, don’t upload that information yet.”
“Ballistics on the Turk’s gun?” Andreas asked.
“Got him.” Gustav slapped his hands together. “The Turk’s gun was used at the Innsbruck apartment. Bullets match.” He ran the events through his mind. The Turk takes a train from Istanbul to Innsbruck. Attempts a hit on an American there. And then takes another train to Berlin. “Pay off,” he said softly.
“Pay off?”
“Yes, my young friend.” Gustav rose from his chair and adjusted his pants on his waist, shifting his gun on his right hip. “He attempts the hit in Innsbruck and then comes here to Berlin to get paid.”
Andreas had a confused expression on his face. “But he didn’t finish the hit.”
“Exactly.” Gustav pointed at his friend. “And that probably got him killed.”
“So this has nothing to do with the other murders?”
Gustav ran his hand over his bristly face. “I don’t know.” What if it did? Regardless, they had a fresh murder with a direction. Whereas, with the other bodies found around the city recently, they had no leads whatsoever.
Andreas clicked onto a location on the internet, which opened a window with a login and password required. He looked at his boss, who’d sat back down behind his desk. “I’ve come to a secure site.”
“Wait a minute.” Gustav shuffled through the paperwork from the Turk’s backpack. He found a small piece of paper that had made no sense until now, which he flipped to Andreas. “Try this.”
It was two series of letters and numbers. Andreas clicked them into the login and password and the site opened. But he could only access one set of information.
“What is it?” Gustav asked as he leaned across the desk toward the laptop.
“Information on this Jake Adams, the American who the Turks tried to hit in Innsbruck.” He read slowly and then turned the computer for this boss to read also.
Reading carefully, the first thing Gustav noticed was the lack of information on the man. Much of what was there was speculation and supposition. Someone had outed the man, so even if it wasn’t true, he was still in a whole lot of trouble. When he was done reading, Gustav said, “My God. This Adams could have been an American spy. Might still be. What have we gotten ourselves into now?”
“If it’s true. But that was going to be my question to you.”
Were all these bodies espionage related? Gustav wondered. There was a couple ways to find out for sure. He had a contact with the BND in Berlin. He could simply ask the question. No. They’d try to insert themselves into his investigation. Maybe cut him off completely. And there was no way of knowing for sure if any of these were related. This last death was interesting. Perhaps not of the same motivation as the others. But still…someone was killing people in his city. And that was his problem. His responsibility.
“Where do we go from here?” Andreas asked.
“Someone has to be reporting these men missing. Let’s assume those we found in the Spree were not from Berlin either. They could be from anywhere in the world.”
“They were all European,” Andreas corrected.
“Or American or Russian.”
“That’s true. But not Turks or Middle Eastern or African. We know that much.”
“Or Asian.”
“Right.”
“So, get into the Interpol system,” Gustav said. “Check on missing persons first in European countries.”