But not certain.
Certain was a luxury we couldn’t afford.
The city felt different now. I’d always liked Bern, with its orderly streets, efficient trams, and the quiet prosperity of a country that had stayed out of wars that had torn the rest of Europe apart.
Now, every passing face was a potential enemy. That made my skin crawl.
“Parking garage on Löwenstrasse,” Will said. “We’ll walk from there.”
We left the car on the third level between a delivery van and a concrete pillar that would make it hard to spot from the entrance. Will checked his weapon and slipped it back into his coat.
“Ready?” he asked.
“No. Let’s do this anyway.”
The walk to the Hauptbahnhof took twelve minutes. We stayed on opposite sides of the street, moving at different paces. We were two strangers who happened to be heading the same direction. If someone was watching, they’d have to choose which one of us to follow. If they chose wrong, the other would spot them.
The station was crowded with afternoon travelers. Businessmen in dark suits, families with luggage, students with backpacks, all of them moved with the purposeful efficiency of people who had trains to catch and places to be. I scanned the crowd as I entered looking for anyone who wasn’t moving, anyone who was watching instead of walking.
A man in a brown coat stood near the newspaper kiosk reading a magazine. He’d been reading the same page for thirty seconds.
A woman sat on a bench by the departure board, a small suitcase at her feet. She hadn’t looked at the board once.
Watchers. Maybe.
Or maybe just ordinary people doing the thousand mundane things that people did in train stations every day.
I couldn’t tell anymore.
Will entered through a different door, drifted through the crowd toward the lockers. I positioned myself near a pillar with a clear sightline and pretended to study a map of the city while watching for anyone watching him.
Locker 247.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as Will worked the combination, opened it, and retrieved a small envelope. The whole pickup took less than thirty seconds.
He walked away without lookingat me.
I waited two minutes, then followed.
We met again outside and sat on a bench overlooking the river.
The man in the brown coat hadn’t followed. The woman with the suitcase was gone. If we’d been tailed, they were better than us . . . or they were waiting for a better moment.
“Well?” I asked.
Will opened the envelope. Inside was a single sheet of pink paper that smelled of sweet perfume. The handwriting might have been the most feminine script I’d ever seen on an Agency document.
Hans, I miss you so much. I hate that Father forces us to correspond in secret. If only I could see you. Do you remember our special place? I go there every day in the hope you might appear. If you love me, meet me at 14:00. We will drink Café Americana and talk of gentler days. Please, Hans, don’t make me wait. I want to see only you. It has been too long.
I looked at Will. “Café Americana?”
“American coffee. That’s the recognition signal.” He took the note back. “Our special place—Manakin must have told them about the Café Sélect.”
“Only you?” I asked.
“Sounds like this is a solo run.”
I checked my watch. Half past one.
