control.
The Serbian wasn't an idiot. If they'd been able to grab Orlando and Nate, they wouldn't have killed them yet. Borko would know as long as the two of them were still breathing, they would be insurance in case he had any problems with Quinn.
Quinn got off at the Bismarck Strasse. Back at street level, he hailed a cab and took it to Ku'damm. While he sat in the back, he removed a small square of purple paper from his backpack. It was a sticker, one of a dozen he was carrying. Orlando and Nate had matching sets, only Orlando's stickers were gray and Nate's were black. Dark colors were chosen because they would draw less attention and could easily go unnoticed.
Quinn had the cab driver drop him off two blocks from the ruins of the Kaiser Wilhelm
An indoor shopping mall sat just to the southeast of the monument. There was an outside stairway leading down from the street to the lower level of the mall. When he was sure he was not being watched, Quinn descended the steps.
If possible, the air seemed even colder the lower he went. It was worse than Colorado, he realized. More like nights in the dead of winter from his childhood near the Canadian border.
Halfway down on the right side, he attached his purple square to the edge of the handrail. He had been hoping to find squares from Orlando and Nate, but his was the first. He tried not to think about what that might mean. In the morning he'd return to check again. Surely their markers would be there then.
In the meantime, he needed a place to sleep. Returning to the Dorint or the Four Seasons was out of the question. For that matter, it was probably a good idea for the moment to avoid all hotels.
That really left him only one choice. Reluctantly, he went back up the stairs and hailed another cab.
The bartender was a short, thin man with a full mustache and a three-day growth of beard. He filled a glass from the tap and put it in front of Quinn.
Quinn started to pull some coins out of his pocket when a voice stopped him.
The bartender looked over his shoulder at a woman who had just emerged from a back room. 'It's on the house, okay?' she continued in German. Max shrugged, then moved away to help someone
else.
The woman, a brunette with an hourglass figure who looked much younger than she probably was, walked along the bar until she was standing just behind Quinn. She tapped the shoulder of the man who was sitting on the stool next to him, and motioned him to move elsewhere. The customer was about to protest until he realized who wanted his seat. Without a word, he picked up his beer and moved to a table in the corner of the room.
The woman took the abandoned stool. 'Max. The usual.' The bartender nodded. The woman turned to Quinn. 'Hello, Jonathan.'
'How are you, Sophie?'
'Still in the same place I was the last time I saw you,' she said. 'Nothing has changed. I have my regulars. They pay my bills.'
Max approached them from the other side of the bar and placed a Pink Squirrel in front of Sophie. She nodded thanks as he moved away. She took a sip, then set the glass back down on the bar. 'Business?' she asked.
'I'm sorry?'
'Business? Is that why you're here?'
'In Berlin?'
'In my bar.'
'Yes,' he said. 'To both.'
'Good. Because if you said you were here to just see me, I'd tell you to get the hell out.' Her tone was casual, almost light.
Quinn smiled slightly.
'It's been, what? Two years?' she asked.
'Something like that.'
'What are you doing here?'
He watched her as she took another drink. 'I need a place to stay.'
'Tonight?' she asked.
'Yes. Tonight.' He paused, then added, 'Maybe tomorrow, too.'
'What do you think my husband will say?'
'You're not married.'
'The hell I'm not.'
