Zukov shook his head. “No. Not the best location.”
“I agree. Don’t let that happen again.”
He had thought the same thing from the moment he’d made that mistake. But Zukov couldn’t cancel or make changes after the initial order. Neither were to make any communication. They knew how easy it was for someone to listen in on their conversation or to pick up other forms on contact. Zukov simply nodded his agreement, fighting his urge to play with his watch cap.
“I think we should change our methods a little,” Viktor said. “Maybe let a few others take some turns. How else will they get the experience?”
Trying not to look concerned, Zukov ran this information through his mind. It was never a good sign when the boss wanted others to take a turn. Either he had lost confidence in him or he was ready to replace him. That would mean a long trip back to Moscow, or worse. He would end up in the Spree River just like those he’d put there. No identification. No identity. He would die a nobody.
“I can handle it, Viktor.”
“I know, Zuk. It’s not that.” His boss hesitated, a reassuring expression on his complex face. “I need you to find the American. Take a more active role.”
Zukov let out a subdued sigh. “I understand. But what’s so important about this one man?” He had asked this before, and never got a good answer. Didn’t expect one now.
Viktor Pushkin shrugged and put his hands together. “It’s personal.”
That he did understand. “All right. I’ll get on it first thing in the morning. Anything else?”
“You’ve been leaving behind the identification on the last couple of people,” Viktor said. “Any reason for this?”
Yeah, there was a reason. But nothing his boss would find appropriate. “The Turk was a mistake,” he lied. “And the man tonight I couldn’t linger. It was a busy street.”
“Okay. It doesn’t have anything to do with this Polizei investigator, Gustav Vogler?”
Zukov thought for a second too long. “All right. You caught me.”
“You’re playing with the man,” Viktor said.
Shrugging slightly, Zukov said, “Maybe a little.”
Viktor raised his praying hands to his lips. “No more, Zuk. It’s not about you. It’s not about this Polizei man. There’s more at stake here.”
He sure as hell knew that. He’d been in on the plan from the beginning, helping develop the strategy. “I know,” he finally said. “I understand.”
“Get some sleep and get on the American in the morning.”
Zukov took that as a sign to get up. This is really what he wanted all along. A challenge. Rewards never came without great sacrifice. He went back into the break room and got his cane, before heading out into the cool night air to his car. He’d find the American. And when he did, well, things would go a little different from last time.
Closing in on midnight and Gustav’s cell phone shook him from his sound sleep. He swept his hand in the darkness and knocked the phone to the floor. Scrambling onto the low-pile carpet with his hand, he finally reached the phone and flipped it open.
“Ja. This better be damn good,” he sniped.
“Sir, this is Andreas.”
“I know that. Your name came up on my cell,” he muttered more calmly. “What’s up, my friend?”
“Another body.”
Jesus. What was going on in his city? “Details.”
“A thirty-two-year-old man found stabbed to death in Mitte. On Unter Den Linden, a few blocks from the Brandenburg Gate.”
“That’s brash,” Gustav said.
“There’s more, sir. He’s a Pole. He was on that train from Warsaw tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, sir. I’m at the scene now. I have his passport in hand, with the RFID sticker we placed there. Also has a ticket stub from that train.”
“Damn it. We missed him.”
“There was no way of knowing.”
“Hold the scene. I’m on my way.”
Andreas gave his boss the address.
“How’d you get there so soon?”
“I live just five blocks from here,” Andreas explained.
The better question was why his assistant had been called first. The call should have come in to Gustav.
“I’m on my way,” Gustav repeated and then hung up.
He slammed his phone shut vehemently. This was getting ridiculous, he thought as he got out of bed and slipped into the clothes he’d hastily thrown off to have sex with Ilka. Just when they’d gotten a possible break in the case, another setback. And a brazen attack near Berlin’s landmark. This man had to be stopped. Before leaving, he gazed down at Ilka. She had not even woken with the phone or the talking. He was jealous she could sleep that soundly. If only… He shook his head and reluctantly left her there, knowing she was still naked under his sheets.
19
Andre had given Jake and Alexandra the guest room, but Jake had found it hard to sleep. He’d stayed up late on his computer searching all the data from Interpol, hoping to find some direction. While he did so, he also ran through his mind every case he’d been a part of over the past couple of decades. The list was long, but only a dozen or so stuck out as problematic.
Morning now, a fresh perspective, Jake stood in front of the window watching the horses graze in the small pasture. It would have been nice to go for a ride. He had done that before while staying with Andre. His horses were half Arabian and half Quarter horse. And he rode with Western saddles. They had gone to a nearby river and followed a trail up toward the Alps. It wasn’t like riding in Montana, but the countryside was beautiful and any day in the saddle or on a river was better than sitting in a car.
He glanced back at Alexandra still asleep, covered with only a thin white sheet. What was he doing? Had enough time passed by for him to be making love with another woman? Even Andre, about as sexually liberal as they come, seemed somewhat disappointed with Jake. Yet, he couldn’t let what others thought dictate who he was or what his future could be. Only he could decide that. Besides, he had come close to death too many times in the past few days to worry about proper periods of mourning. Life could be shortened at any moment. He had to live for now.
He slipped off his underwear and slid into bed, finding her warm and naked beneath the covers. Smiling, she guided him into her.
A while later, while Alexandra showered, Jake got back onto his computer and ran the intel through his fresh mind. He knew what he had to do, but he didn’t want to involve her in his plan. This was something personal. Something only he could accomplish. Perhaps it had been a mistake taking her along to begin with, even though she’d wanted to be with him. Wanted to help. But at what cost? He’d almost gotten her killed. Got her involved in an Interpol Blue Notice, which wasn’t too serious, but could be a problem with her employer. Still, she had issues to deal with on her own back in Germany.
She came out toweling off her naked body. God, she was gorgeous. He wanted to ravage her again. Yet, he still struggled with his feelings. Perhaps he already felt dead and needed to experience resurgent life.
“What?” she asked, shifting the towel to her long, think hair and rolling it up into a beehive.
“Just observing God’s perfection.”
She turned to him and slowly stepped into a thong. “I didn’t take you for a believer, Jake.”
“I’ve had my questions. For instance, how could a just God take someone like Anna but leave evil despots on Earth?”
She seemed to be considering that as she strapped her perfectly rounded breasts into a matching black lace bra. “Maybe that’s why He put us here.”
“To vanquish evil?”
“Yes.”
He left his computer and went to her, drawing her into his arms and taking in her fresh odor. “So, when you called to Him this morning, what were you asking for?”