“Titan Genetics. I’ll look him up. Thank you for your help, Mr. Katz.”
“Tyler McKinnon owes me a favor. Are you coming to retrieve the sample?”
“Someone will be in touch. Thanks again.” He hung up.
Taylor looked at him. “Do we think Reinhard Dorn could have worked at Storkow?”
“We do.”
“Would a man with that kind of background in biological warfare be welcome in the reunified German state?”
“We hired Nazi rocket scientists and all sorts of useful Nazis after World War II, so why wouldn’t the new Germany bring in the old East German brain trust after the Cold War?” He added, “I think we need to talk to Reinhard Dorn.”
“With what authority?”
“I don’t know, Taylor, but we’ve been bullshitting our way through this investigation for days now.”
“Talking to civilians, and a Lebanese mobster, and a librarian.”
“Archivist.”
“You’re not getting an instant audience with the head of a large biotech firm just by flashing your badge, Scott.”
“Watch me.”
They heard sirens in the distance, and Brodie said, “We need to get out of here.”
“We’re the ones who called this in.”
“And when Chief Inspector Schröder gets here, maybe he’ll thank us, or maybe he’ll detain us. Maybe both.”
Taylor appeared conflicted.
“As your former senior partner, I need you to trust me on this.”
She looked at him. “You get to use that exactly once.”
They exited the gallery and ducked down a side street. This might not be a good lead, but you follow all leads—especially when you don’t have a clue. What they did have was the name and place of work of an old geneticist who maybe worked at the Storkow facility thirty years ago. Odin had paid a visit to Storkow, according to the Stasi report. But only once, so what were the chances that Odin and Dorn had even crossed paths?
But why had Odin gone there in the first place? Because some of the intelligence he’d gotten from the Stasi moles was connected to that place—and to chemical or biological weapons. And then after Manfred Albrecht shared some Intel with Odin directly, one of Odin’s first moves was to request East German citizenship. As if he had a feeling that something was going to drastically turn the tide of the Cold War.
Day X. Black Harvest.
HURE.
The image of that word flashed in his mind. And he saw Anna’s body, lying there…
Brodie needed to find Odin. He pulled out his phone and dialed a number, then put it on speaker.
“Who are you calling?”
“I’ve got one last feeler out there.”
Claudia Barese of the National Personnel Records Center picked up. “Hey, Scott.”
“How’s it coming?”
“It’s coming. I need to comb through a few different databases, resolve any conflicting results, and then—”
