“What kind of trouble?”
“A couple of guys came gunning for me this morning. I got two of them, but the third got away. I need to track down who these guys are and figure out why they came after me.”
“Shouldn’t the police be looking into it?”
“They are, but if this was because of something personal, which it might be, I don’t want to screw up my deal with the Germans while I’m in the middle of this investigation.”
“Well, let me think. Do you remember the old battalion S2?”
“Captain Bryant? Yeah. Actually, I was his duty sergeant for a little while when I was on light duty recovering from one of the joint ops with the Spetsnaz.”
“Ahh, right. I’d forgotten about that. He got out a year after I did, and I hear he’s gone private and is working out that way. I’ll need to make a few calls but I bet I can find his numbers. He should be able to track down what you need.”
“Great. Thanks, Sarge.”
“Any time. Just try and stay safe out there.”
Taylor gave Franklin his email address for when he got Bryant’s address and hung up. While it was still early, he’d been up for two days with only one fitful nap on the plane in between. Taylor was used to pushing himself hard when working on cases, but at this point, he was starting to wear a little thin. Before he went to sleep, he had one more thing to do, however.
It took several rings before Kara answered, her voice thick with sleep, “Hello?”
“Did I wake you up? ”
While he’d expected Albert to still be at home in bed, he’d expected the exact opposite for Kara. She wasn’t exactly a morning person, but she didn’t usually sleep the day away.
“I had long day unpacking and needed catching up for sleep. It okay, I’m glad you call. Have you found Loretta?”
“Not yet. We just started looking, so there’s a lot of places still left to check. I’ll find her.”
“I know you will. Aunt Deborah called me this afternoon. It was weird, she ask if I want to stay with her for a few days.”
“I stopped and saw her before my plane left. I should have guessed she’d try to call you after I talked to her, sorry for not giving you a heads up.”
“No problem. I tell her no Mary Jane is taking me to school tomorrow to get my schedule and meet teachers. Class starts soon and I have much work to do. I agreed to have dinner tomorrow night.”
“Good. Don’t let the problems between me and her get in the way, she’s generally a pretty nice person, and she’s trying to do right by her new niece. Give her a chance.”
“I will.”
“Okay, I am wiped out, so I’m going to try and get some sleep and pick up looking for Whitaker tomorrow. You can call me at this number if you need anything. I’m in room 218.”
“Okay. I love you. Be careful.”
“Love you too, kiddo. I’ll call you tomorrow night.”
Taylor hung up and decided he’d made the right call in not mentioning being shot at already. Kara was playing it cool, but he could hear the worry in her voice. He wanted her focusing on school, and there wasn’t much she could do now anyway.
His last task done, Taylor lay back on the bed and started working over what he could do while he waited for Bryant’s information. He managed to work through all of two options before sleep caught up with him.
Franklin had come through while Taylor slept and supplied him with a business address where he could find Bryant, which led to a small electronics shop nestled in one of the seedier parts of Berlin. From the disorganized front windows to the poorly lit entrance, a passerby might think this show a front for something, and they wouldn’t be entirely wrong.
It was run by a former Special Forces officer named Dave Bryant that Taylor had gotten to know during his second deployment when he’d been moved to an office detail while recovering from an injury. While they hadn’t kept in touch, they’d always been friendly. Taylor had heard through the old soldier’s network that Captain Bryant had taken the skills he’d learned as a battalion intelligence officer and applied those skills in the private sector, mostly for friendly governments that needed intelligence work done off-book.
Not that this store was just a front. Bryant had graduated from West Point with a degree in mechanical engineering and had always been tinkering with something in his off-time. When Taylor had known him, Bryant had been in the process of fully restoring a ’57 Plymouth Fury. Looking at all the stuff on the shelves behind the counter with tags on them, it seemed he was doing a fair business in just repair. Bryant was sitting at the counter when Taylor walked in, hunched over something that was opened up and strewn across the counter’s surface.
Looking up, Bryant squinted at Taylor for a second before going back to his repair work.
“Sargent Taylor, long time no see.”
It didn’t surprise Taylor that Bryant remembered him. The man had been legendary for the sheer volume of information he seemed to be able to keep in his head.
“Glad you remember me, Captain.”
“I always remember my duty sergeants, although the fact that you can’t seem to keep yourself out of the newspapers back home makes it easier.”
“I promise you I don’t do it on purpose.”
“No doubt. You never could keep your nose out of stuff when you thought something needed doing. I told you that one day your habit of going all Dudley Do-right would get you in trouble. I’m going go out on a limb here and guess that’s why you here.”
