Brodie stared back at her. “I have no Jewish ancestry.”
The medic turned toward Taylor, who glared at her and shook her head.
Brodie asked, “Why are you asking?”
She ignored his question as she produced a forehead thermometer and took Brodie’s reading. Then she listened to his chest with her stethoscope and made notes on her pad.
She went over to Taylor and repeated her exam.
Brodie watched her and realized just how young she was. Twenty-two, twenty-three at the oldest. She had long brown hair tied up in a bun, and hazel eyes. But there was something so much older, and so much uglier, underneath her features. Some deep-rooted hatred that he could not understand.
He asked her, “Why are you doing this?”
She looked at him, surprised by the question. After a moment she said, “You have no right to that answer.”
Brodie heard the door unlock, and as it swung open a man about Brodie’s age walked in. He was tall, with a full head of brown hair, and he wore boots, black pants, and a button-down shirt with rolled-up sleeves. He said something in German to the medic, and she left the room with her cart and shut the door. The guard with the assault rifle stayed.
The man folded his arms and looked down at Brodie and Taylor. “You guys fucked up.”
To Brodie’s surprise, he spoke with an American accent. Brodie asked, “Who the hell are you?”
“You can call me Steve.”
“Can I call you shithead?”
Steve laughed. “God, I miss American humor.”
“Did you hear the one about the German tourist who drives to the French border?”
“No. Tell me.”
“Later.”
Steve crouched so they were eye-level. “So, who am I? I was a private military contractor in Germany for a few years, been with a group outside of Münster where I met some… like-minded individuals. NordFaust.” He looked at Brodie and then Taylor and smiled. “My German friends thoughtan American would have better luck with you guys. But now that I’m here, you don’t look happy to see a compatriot.”
Neither Brodie nor Taylor responded.
Steve offered, “You’re probably wondering where you are. It’s a bunker. From the war. You’d be surprised how much of this shit still exists under Berlin.” He paused. “I’m going to be straight with you. There’s a chance both of you can get out of here alive, but you’re going to need to cooperate.”
Brodie was familiar with that line, and it was Grade A American bullshit. He said to Steve, “Get Agent Kim medical attention, and do it right fucking now, and then we can talk.”
Steve looked over his shoulder at David Kim and scoffed. “Brother, he’s a goner. You need to think about yourself. And your lady friend here.”
“I’m not your brother.”
“No?” Steve unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a large patch of red disfigured skin over his chest. “Two thousand six. North of Baghdad. My squad was told to dispose of an old, degraded Iraqi military weapons cache. Artillery shells. Except they were filled with mustard agent. Whoops. My buddy died and they lied about the cause. And I didn’t even get a goddamn Purple Heart. I guess we found those weapons of mass destruction after all, huh, Scott?” He buttoned his shirt. “Except these were from 1985 and rotting in a fucking hole in the ground for twenty years, and probably made in America. Didn’t fit the official narrative.” He added, “Total bullshit.”
Taylor said, “So the Army screwed you. Take a number. We don’t all become Nazis. You are a disgrace to your country.”
Steve stood and looked down at her. “My country is the disgrace, Maggie Taylor. A mongrelized shithole on the losing side of history.” He paused and looked at them. “We could have separated you guys. Done the whole prisoner’s dilemma thing, or tortured you, gotten you to talk.” He gestured to the can in the middle of the room. “But the truth is, your main value to these people is as fuckin’ lab rats. Besides, there’s areallyshort shelf life on any intelligence you can give us. Like, a couple hours.”
Brodie asked, “What happens in a couple hours?”
Steve smiled. “I promise I’ll tell you once it’s over, Scott. Sometime tonight. And then, depending on whether you were helpful, we’ll either let you go or put a bullet in your head. Deal?”
“No deal.”
Steve laughed. “You know, your German friends are making some headlines right now with their raids on NordFaust. Gun battle in Dresden. Seized explosives in Leipzig. Arrested a high-ranking Bundeswehr officer here in Berlin. They’ll learn some things. But not the right things. And not enough things to stop what’s coming.” He added, “NordFaust and Titan Genetics are two sides of the same coin, as I’m sure you’ve figured out by now. But the Feds are looking at the wrong side of the coin.”
