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Page 63.
 Jack explained: "Looks like they weren't quite expecting us, but they lured Ribeye to his death in that building. They attacked me, and I killed all three of them."
"Is Agent Coldstream with you?"
"Yes, she is safe. Driving the car like a champ."
"Very well, Rector said. "I'm sending a team of cleaners from our K-Town safe house. They will make it as if nothing happened. Meanwhile, I can't bring you in. You'll have to hide out for at least a day or two. Get a hotel room and bill me."
After a brief Internet search by Miranda, the two settled on a clean Pension (bed and breakfast). The large residence, with four guest suites, was situated in the tiny, picturesque village of Frankenstein some twenty minutes east of K-Town along the back road to Speyer on the Rhine.
The rail line to Darmstadt and Frankfurt ran on elevated tracks on the right as Jack drove toward Neustadt. Most of the route was deep in one of Europe's largest forests, the Pfälzerwald. Frankenstein was a village dating to the European middle ages.
Frankenstein was a tiny hamlet among abrupt, tall hills smothered in dark pines and wreathed in fog. The main drag was a short, single loop on a blacktop road, joining at both ends with the main road. As Jack drove into the village, the road seemed to sink down a bit, and massive pine forests rose all around on steep hills.
"So much oxygen," Miranda said. "I can breathe better."
"Looks like nasty weather moving in," Jack said.
As he pulled up at the Pension Adler (Eagle), he looked up and saw wet clouds, darker than cigarette smoke, ominously clinging to the very cliffs. Fog roiled like smoke among the pines. High up sat a jagged ruin.
"There's a ruined castle up there, too," Miranda said.
“We’ll stay in something more modern,” Jack said.
Miranda said as she unbuckled her seatbelt: "Okay, let's wish ourselves luck."
“Guarded optimism,” Jack said. “Always.”
Shoes crunching on wet gravel, they walked up to the main door and rang. The doorway was rounded at the top, recessed between twin lanterns, and cozy looking. A woman came to the door, middle aged and wearing an apron. Frau Lentz took them to a small concierge desk. Everything inside the building was clean and sparkling. She looked at the guest register and said in good English: "You are in luck. We have just one suite left for the night."
Jack did not look at Miranda but asked: "Is there an extra cot available for me? My wife has back pain and requires a lot of bed space."
"We can put in a futon for you at no charge," the woman said.
The building’s layout was simple—two central corridors intersecting in a cross shape. Floors polished to a high luster. On the first floor, there appeared to be the desk and a waiting room in the front half, and in the rear half, a recreation room with ping pong and billiards table on one side, and a laundry room on the other side. Similar layout on the second floor, with four corner suites.
As they unlocked the door to their room, Jack said: "If you are uncomfortable with this, we can change to a hotel and get separate rooms."
Miranda folded her arms together, as if forming a fortress to fight off enemy warriors, and shook her head. "I'll take the futon, and you get your beauty sleep."
"I'll flip you."
"No."
"Yes."
"My coin."
"Deal."
She produced a thick U.K. one-pound coin and flipped it. She slapped it on the back of one hand, and covered it with the other palm. "Call it."
"Heads."
She lifted her hand way. The coin's tails side was up.
Miranda looked pained.
Jack said: "Listen, no games; no wasting time. I'm going to make a command decision." He turned the coin over. "You win. Take the bed, and don't say another word about it."
She smiled. "If you insist. You Yanks can be gentlemen sometimes. Are you hungry?"
"Famished. Do you realize we haven't really eaten since breakfast at the airport?"
"Find us a restaurant, and I'll pay."
" John Bull pays."
"A girl can pretend."
"Money is money."
The suite consisted of two rooms and a bath. The front room had a kitchenette, a coffee table with two armchairs, and a computer desk. The bathroom was sparkling clean and smelled of fine soap. The back room had a large bed in it.
There was a knock on the door.
"Come in," Miranda said.
The husband of Frau Lentz, a heavy set man in his 50s, came in carrying a large object wrapped in a clean bed sheet. It was the futon, consisting of two long upholstered sections. Herr Lenz head to the bedroom with the futon.
"Please put it in near the kitchen," Jack said. As Herr Lentz made a shocked face, Jack added: "My wife screams at night. I need my rest, so I always sleep in another room. When it's real bad, I spend the night with neighbors, or in a bar."
The Lentzes departed, casting horrified looks after themselves, before quickly pulling the unit door shut.
Jack called Rector on a secure line, which was shunted to ULTRA/BIN/CRYPTOMAX on a U.S. Air Force satellite relay. He described where he was, and asked for instructions.
"I will call you tomorrow," Rector said. "Someone from BND will show up during the night and replace Miranda's government car with a different model, color, and plates. Nothing you need to worry about." He added: "Just as a note, if I wanted to recall you to CONUS, this would be the perfect opportunity, since you are a few miles from HQ USAFE and NATO Air Forces Europe."
"Oh, Ramstein AFB," Jack said from long-ago memory of being stationed with Military Intelligence in Germany.
"Yep. Sleep well, Jack."
"Out here, and thanks. My regards to Claire."
"Done."
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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