“Does this mean you’re taking the case?”
“Maybe. But I would need a new partner.”
“You don’t think Evans can handle this?”
“He’s uniquely unqualified. And if I have to be on an eight-hour flight with him, there’s going to be another murder.”
Dombroski smiled.
Brodie knew that Dombroski already agreed that Evans was a dick, or else this briefing would have occurred at Quantico with Evans present.
Dombroski assured him, “You will have a new partner.”
“Who?”
The colonel ignored the question. He looked Brodie in the eyes and asked in a low voice, “Do you have any concerns about being overseas?”
Back to spook talk. If the CIA really did want him dead because of what he knew, they would be happy to have their target on foreign soil in the middle of investigating a potentially terrorism-inspired murder. Another victim of Islamic extremists.
“Scott?”
Brodie refocused and looked at his boss. “I appreciateyourconcern, Colonel. But there comes a time when a man must not run from his fate.” He asked, “Can I bring my gun?”
“You cannot. You’ll be flying commercial and we have made no arrangements with the State Department—who we don’t want to owe favors to—to transfer anything via diplomatic pouch. You can, however, be issued a sidearm by our defense attaché in the unlikely event that the need arises.” He added, “You understand that, officially and legally, you will not have investigative powers in Germany. You cannot gather evidence. You cannot question witnesses. You cannot make arrests.”
“Colonel, I don’t have to tell you the number of investigations I have conducted overseas.”
“This is different. You’re not hunting down a perp who committed the act stateside and fled to a foreign country. And you are not investigating a crime committed on the grounds of an overseas American militaryinstallation or within a combat zone. You are also not conducting your investigation in a third world shithole with a corrupt police force that doesn’t know its ass from its elbow. This is a murder on German soil. They are very capable, and they are extremely protective of their turf.”
“The Germans tend to exaggerate which turf is theirs. Historically speaking.”
“You will leave that joke at home.”
“Yes, sir.”
“This murder is also very possibly linked to Islamic terrorism, which the Germans are already up to their eyeballs in dealing with, on top of the white nationalist and neo-Nazi crazies who hate the Muslims in their country and are feeling nostalgic for a time that Germans should not feel nostalgic for. The German government will have their own internal security concerns at the top of their mind when seeking to resolve this.”
Brodie absorbed all that. It was true that Harry Vance’s murder presented a unique challenge. In fact, Colonel Dombroski was handing his star agent a shit sandwich and telling him to eat up. Well, he hadn’t said yes to this assignment yet. He returned to the question that the colonel had ignored: “Who would be my partner on this case?”
“Maggie Taylor.”
Brodie didn’t reply.
“She’s a good agent, and you two have a good prior working relationship. Plus, she’s fluent in Arabic and can probably teach herself German on the flight over.”
Maggie Taylorwasa good agent. She was a sponge for knowledge and had an obsessive work ethic. She was also brave and had earned a Silver Star as a Civil Affairs officer for her actions in Afghanistan during a roadside ambush a few years before joining CID. And her language skills would be invaluable when navigating an investigation in an Arab immigrant neighborhood. On the other hand, she was crazy in a different way than Scott Brodie was crazy, which had caused some friction on their last case together in Venezuela. She had also committed a major act of betrayal on their last assignment, and Brodie had returned the favor by almost getting them both killed on one or two occasions. Maybe three. Also, Brodie harbored feelings for her, which were probably only lust but maybe something more, andshe might not share those feelings, which was why she’d never returned his phone calls. On the other hand, before she’d gone silent, she’d dropped a few hints herself that the feelings were mutual. At least, he thought she had. Scott Brodie was a lot better at deciphering crime scenes than deciphering women.
“Scott?”
Brodie said, as if to himself, “No.”
Dombroski looked at him quizzically. “No?”
“There are many qualified agents right here at Quantico who would jump at this opportunity. I’ll take the assignment without the baggage.”
“Have you spoken with Ms. Taylor since she left for Fort Campbell?”
“No.” He added, “She hasn’t returned my messages.”
