“I’m in the Radisson lobby. Waiting for the two guys from Fifth MP who are replacing you and Taylor. So… maybe it would be awkward for you. And them.”
“Let’s pretend we’re all professionals. See you in a few.” He hung up.
As he walked toward Alexanderplatz, Brodie thought about his shaky status here in Berlin. Doors were closing. People weren’t sure they should be talking to him. Ex–warrant officer Brodie’s credit card and cell phone were somehow connected to his active-duty status, and he could imagine that both could be cut off, along with his PX card. In fact, by now Dombroski had definitely cut off his charging privileges at Officers’ Clubs worldwide, and also had the lock changed on Brodie’s office, along with the keypad code on the men’s room door.
Well… when you say, “I quit,”theyquit you. There are consequences. He had an image of himself sleeping on a bench in the Tiergarten. But that was the least of his concerns.
Brodie crossed Alexanderplatz and entered the Radisson. He spotted Mark Jenkins, wearing a sports jacket, sitting in a club chair and dividing his attention between his cell phone and the lobby doors, looking for whoever showed up first—Brodie, or his colleagues from the 5th MP Battalion.
Jenkins saw Brodie coming toward him, managed a smile, and stood. They shook hands and both sat.
Jenkins said, “So, what can I do for you?”
Brodie thought that Jenkins looked more alert than last time he’d seen him. He must have skipped the morning schnapps. “I wanted to thank you for your help.”
“That’s not why you’re here.”
“Right.” Brodie asked, “When are you leaving?”
“As soon as I meet and brief my colleagues.” He asked, “When areyouleaving?”
“I’m thinking of putting in for leave in place.”
“Have you fallen in love with Berlin?”
“Maybe infatuated.”
Jenkins looked at him. “When the script says exit left, that means you don’t belong on the stage anymore.”
“Right. I like backstage better.”
Jenkins did not respond to that, but said, “So, as we all suspected, Harry had a fräulein here.”
“Right.”
“And you and Ms. Taylor found her.”
“I’m glad no one else is taking credit for that.”
Jenkins smiled. “Give it where it’s due. May I ask how you found her?”
“Dumb luck.”
“Don’t be modest.”
“I’m not.”
Jenkins smiled again and asked, “So? Was she worth Harry’s long commute from Kaiserslautern?”
“I’ll leave that to your imagination, Mark.”
“Was she at least grief-stricken? Did she love him?”
“I think so.”
“Was she cooperative?”
“I… I would say very cooperative. And let’s change the subject.” He told Jenkins, “Taylor put all the details in her report.”
