Page 59 of Turn the Tide
Before he finished nodding, she hustled to the guard with a genuine smile. The elevator doors shut behind her with a soft clunk.
“Thank you.” She took her badge from the guard and kept walking toward the entrance.
“I thought you were going back upstairs,” he said.
“I need a little fresh air first.”
The elevator chimed again, and she quickened her step. She thrust her handbag to the other guard seated at the checkpoint and walked through the metal detectors. After her purse was inspected, she took it and spotted Tim waving at her.
Go. Don’t look back. Now!
Spinning on her heel, she pushed through the door and embraced the slap of frigid wind.
Relief exploded in every cell of her body. The heavy breath she’d been holding left her in a sharp, delightful burst. Her heart was lighter than a balloon.
She gathered her wits and didn’t dare linger a second longer.
***
Munich, Germany
Thursday, March 3, 12:25 p.m. CET
Seated in a cozy café,Helmut Fuchs wiped his glasses with an anti-fog cloth and put them back on. He thanked the waitress as she set his third skim latté on the table.
She left, pinching her lips and rolling her eyes.
Nine weeks ago, he’d flashed the café owner a BfV—Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz—badge, declaring himself as German domestic intelligence—someone to be respected and feared—and stated he’d sit here every day until there was no longer a need. Cooperation was swift, albeit reluctant.
His orders: Observe only. Unless there was a clog requiring a plumber.
Wet work was his specialty, and he did so enjoy his job.
His eyes trained past the engaging Eisbachwelle—a man-made river that provided a forceful current of year-round waves for experienced surfers or naive amateurs willing to risk breaking their necks—to the tower of emerald glass and steel. BioGenApex headquarters.
The front door opened. His target rushed outside. She looked flustered, perhaps relieved. He glanced at his watch. This was a deviation in her routine—a routine he knew inside and out.
Where are you headed? Coffee? Bite to eat?
Or to her car, which she kept on the other side of the English Garden Park?
He adjusted his concealed Heckler & Koch VP9 tactical in his shoulder rig and threw on his parka. Tossing down euros to cover his tab, he watched her hurry to the corner. She raised her palm and darted across traffic—against the light. Not once had he ever seen her do that.
An alarm blared inside BGA, loud enough to capture the attention of every café patron. The target set foot on the sidewalk and took off at a dead sprint into the park.
Grinning, Helmut bulldozed through the door of the café.
The game was on.
***
Munich, Germany
Thursday, March 3, 1:30 p.m. CET
Ashley could never go back to the place she’d rented as Anna Kruger.
After spending an hour doing a surveillance detection route around the city, ensuring she wasn’t followed, she unlocked the apartment door of the Agency safe house. She stepped inside, engaged the dead bolt behind her, and stripped off her coat.
