Old Army Buddies
Raphael Mirabaud
Friends in high places.
That afternoon in his office at Geneva Trust, Raphael locked the door and slid Bastien’s burner phone out of his sock. He dialed the number Flicka had remembered for him.
A man answered, his voice low and gruff, “This isBasch Favre, Colonel of Police for the Canton of Geneva.”
Raphael took a deep breath.“Basch, this is Dieter Schwarz fromDétachement de reconnaissance de l’armée dix,”which was the long version of ARD-10, the Swiss army special forces unit where they had both served. “Remember that time when I dragged you out of the mud in that ambush in Pakistan, threw you across the back of a horse, and got you to the Americans for medical attention?”
“Because you would never let me forgetit,” Basch laughed. “Jesus, Dieter. There were motorcycles available. There was even a truck.”
Raphael sighed. “Basch, I need to tell you a story.”
