looked in before sitting back down behind the wheel.
Court knew he was taking a chance using Berlin station again, but Hanley had given him a number to call if he needed supplies, and he was banking that neither Hanley nor Brewer had contacted them to tell them he was no longer sanctioned to operate in Berlin. He’d called the number, given his identity code, and referenced a number Hanley had given him that provided the authorization code Berlin station needed to authenticate him, and then he simply told them what he wanted and where he wanted it all delivered.
He started to check his watch, but then he saw a man approaching the Audi through the driver-side mirror.
Seconds later, the passenger door opened and the man climbed in.
“Dude, I’m starving! Been eating beans covered in shit for the last week. We’ve got to stop at KFC or something before we do anything else.”
Court laughed despite himself. Zack Hightower was in his fifties, but he’d been like this for the ten or more years Court had known him.
Now Zack looked around the vehicle, seeming to notice it suddenly. “Pretty sweet. Agency ride?”
“It is. Got it just for you.”
“It’s a little European. I’m more a Silverado guy, myself.”
The Audi was already moving for the exit. “A Chevy pickup would be a touch conspicuous around here.” Court looked to his passenger. “Not that you aren’t conspicuous enough on your own.”
Zack shrugged.
“How was the clink?” Court asked.
With another shrug he said, “What do you think? Third-world prisons aren’t nearly as much fun as everyone makes them out to be.”
“That’s too bad. I was planning on getting arrested in Quito next week.”
But Zack had moved on. “So, Anthem says Hanley is out of the loop on me being over here.”
“He is—for now, anyway. I know you pride yourself on being a good soldier. Is that going to be a problem for you?”
“Anthem also said Hanley left me out in the jungle to rot.” He looked in the glove compartment, started feeling around, searching for something. “So . . . my loyalty is to you now, Six, as long as the op is legit.”
When Hightower had been Court’s team leader, his call sign was Sierra One, to the much more junior Court’s Sierra Six. Zack still referred to Court as Six instead of his real name, or even his Agency code name.
Court said, “As soon as we have an op, I promise it will be one hundred percent legit.” When Zack reached under his seat, still searching with his hand, Court said, “Center console.”
Zack opened the console and retrieved a pistol in a holster. He drew the weapon and looked at it. “What is this bullshit?”
Court glanced towards Zack, then back to the exit ramp in front of him. “Looks like a Steyr. M9.”
“I know it’s an M9. Got eyeballs. Since when did the Agency start fielding these?”
Court shrugged. “Dunno. I’ve been out awhile. There’s a pair of UMPs with all the fixings in the trunk.”
Zack reholstered the weapon and slid it under his shirt in the appendix position. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Six. You all healed up from that blade you caught in LA?”
To this Court replied, “Not really.” He changed the subject. “What about Zoya?”
“What about her?”
“Did she tell you where she was heading next?”
“She didn’t say, and I didn’t ask. Just that she was burned here, and she was pretty damn concerned about you.” Zack winked. “I told her I’d take care of you.”
Court looked out at the night as they hit the highway, filling Zack in on the status of the operation as he drove. He told his former TL that Hanley himself was on his way here to Berlin, apparently because Court had ID’d some unknown subject for him earlier in the day.
Zack turned to face Court. “The big man coming out himself? That’s weird.”
“Tell me about it. Anyway, we’re on stand-down till he gets here, but as soon as his plane touches down, I’m going to ask for approval to snatch this Dittenhofer woman. She’s got answers about Haz Mirza.”
“Mirza was the leader of the cell that attacked the embassy today?”
“Affirmative. Four terrorists dead, no other casualties. I don’t think the Iranians got more than a couple shots off before the USMC splattered them across the square. But Mirza wasn’t there. He’s still on the loose.”
“So . . .” Zack said, “you’re basically saying this Mirza cat was the leader of a gang of dipshits. What are we getting