Gunner turned in his seat and looked through the rear window. Other than a few of the locals milling about in the street, staring at the strangers, there wasn’t a sign of a trailing vehicle. Maybe he was wrong about the two Audis they’d encountered on the autobahn, but he doubted it. Nonetheless, they had work to do.
“All right, Bear. Let’s go meet Professor von Zwick.”
Bear punched the GPS coordinates into the BMW’s navigation panel and followed the route instructions. They were nearly to the coast of the Baltic Sea when the onboard computer announced their arrival.
“There must be a house around here somewhere,” said Bear as he pulled the sedan to a stop.
All three of them rolled down their windows to get a better look outside the vehicle. A light breeze caused the trees to sway slightly, allowing the setting sun to peek through sporadically. Bear eased the car forward, looking for any type of driveway. Gunner glanced upward as something metallic flashed and caught his eye.
“Stop,” he instructed Bear, who immediately jammed on the brakes. Gunner flung the door open and stepped onto the gravel road. He walked back a few paces and looked through the tree canopy again. As the wind blew the trees, the reflective flash caught his eye again.
A simple barbed-wire fence had been strung along the road to keep a few goats from escaping the woods. Gunner approached it and looked through the trees.
“Do you see something?” asked Cam, who’d exited the back seat and covered her eyes to avoid the occasional glare.
“Yeah, I think we’ve got the right place. Find a place to hide the car, and we’ll walk in from here. Bring the weapons.”
While Bear and Cam followed his instructions, Gunner found a way through the fence and moseyed deeper into the woods. The farther he walked, the more the underbrush cleared, providing him a better view. Off in the distance, he saw the outline of a house.
“That’s gotta be it,” he mumbled to himself.
He turned and jogged back to the road where Cam and Bear waited. They each had a Eurosport sling-style crossbody backpack in olive drab green. It contained ammunition and a variety of tools should the situation call for them. Gunner slung his over his shoulder, checked his weapon, and tucked it into a paddle holster that was obscured by his untucked shirt.
The sun was setting and they needed to get moving. They knew nothing about Professor von Zwick, and Gunner wanted to arrive at the man’s front door with plenty of daylight. He had to make it clear his team wasn’t a threat.
After several minutes of moving through the woods, they entered a clearing, and a single Low German house stood in the middle. Known as a Fachhallenhaus, the timber-framed farmhouse combined a barn and a residence under one roof. The ground level was built with large bays on the sides for livestock and storage, with the living quarters taking up part of the ground floor and the upper levels. The steep-pitched hipped gable roof was made of slate shingles covered with moss.
“Where’s the front door?” asked Bear.
Cam also asked, “And the windows? Maybe this is just the barn.”
“Follow me,” instructed Gunner, who began to jog across the clearing to the far end of the building. On the other gabled end, windows appeared together with a fireplace chimney. Just past the house, he saw a windmill spinning above a well. There was also a sizable solar array mounted on the ground near several satellite dishes pointed in all directions.
“This guy is way off the grid,” said Bear. “I don’t even see a driveway into the place.”
“He doesn’t want to be found, that’s for sure,” added Cam.
Gunner held up his fist to indicate they should hold their positions. “Let me approach the door. You guys lay back but be ready in case he gets spooked and decides to come out firing.”
“Roger that,” said Bear. “Moving.” He and Cam circled along the tree line and took up positions facing the front entrance to the Fachhallenhaus. Gunner casually walked to the front door and knocked. He stepped back and announced himself in German.
“Herr Professor von Zwick! Mein name ist Gunner Fox. Kann ich mit dir sprechen?”
Gunner butchered the grammar, but he got his point across. A small slide window in the middle of the wooden door opened, allowing the warm glow of a light inside to escape. A shadow blocked the light momentarily.
A man’s voice responded, “Hier gibt es keinen von Zwick.” There is no von Zwick here.
Gunner was undeterred. “Ich kenne dich auch als Karl Kramer.” I know you also as Karl Kramer.
The man hesitated, then replied in perfect English. His German accent was lost, something that would’ve taken years of practice.
“You are American, ja? What do you want with Herr von Zwick?”
Gunner allowed himself a smile. He had to take a chance. “Sir, we have reason to believe neo-Nazis or their benefactors are planning a large-scale chemical weapons attack on Western targets. We need your help.”
The slide window closed shut, and then a series of deadbolts could be heard opening. The old wooden door slowly opened with a large creaking sound.
“You and your friends may come in,” he said matter-of-factly.
Gunner turned to see if Cam and Bear had given away their positions. Even his trained eye was unable to see their silhouettes against the dark forest.
Now it was von Zwick’s turn to smile. He nodded to his right, indicating Gunner should look in that direction. A series of computer monitors were mounted on the wall in a semicircular arrangement. Von Zwick had surrounded his property with security cameras.
“You saw us coming,” Gunner commented.
“Ja. You are my first visitors in many years. Please summon your friends. I will fetch some Apfelwein for us to enjoy during our conversation. It is a conversation and not an interrogation, I assume.”
“Yes, Professor. We’re the good guys.”
Professor von Zwick began to let out a hearty laugh. “Ja, ja. That is what
