“Good,” said Brodie.
Ulrich asked, “May I ask where you are staying?”
“What were you told?”
Ulrich looked at Brodie, then Taylor. “They told me the Art Hotel in Neukölln. But that must be a mistake.”
Brodie replied, “We heard the cocktail lounge was terrific.”
Ulrich informed them, “I believe it is a Muslim-owned establishment. No alcohol.”
“Holy… Are you kidding?”
“No, sir.”
Taylor interjected, “That’s where we’re staying.”
“Yes, madam.”
Brodie and Taylor climbed out and the stocky man approached them, extending his hand. “Mr. Brodie, Ms. Taylor. Welcome to the embassy. My name is Jason Butler, assistant legal attaché.”
Brodie shook his hand. “Call me Scott.”
Taylor also shook his hand and said, “Maggie.”
Butler smiled at them both. “All right, Scott and Maggie. We’re happy to have you on the team.”
Whenever Brodie heard that he’d be part of a “team,” he wanted to reach for his service weapon, but unfortunately he was unarmed. He said to FBI Agent Butler, “Look forward to meeting the rest of the team.”
Butler flashed another grin and then said something in German to Ulrich, who spoke perfect English, but Butler wanted to show off his German.
Ulrich responded in English, “Very good, Mr. Butler. I will be here.”
Butler nodded, then said to his guests, “Ulrich will hold your luggage and then take you to your hotel after the meeting. Sound good?”
“Sounds fine,” said Taylor.
“Excellent. This way, please.” Butler led them toward the entryway.
Brodie thought that Jason Butler had something of a Boy Scout vibe,which he’d found to be a common trait among FBI agents. He’d also found that was no reason to underestimate them. Or to trust them.
Butler pulled open the glass double doors and they entered a wide marble hallway. A Marine guard in full dress uniform stood at attention next to an American flag.
The Marine saluted them, so apparently the Marine Embassy Guard had been alerted to their military officer ranks despite their civilian dress. Nice touch. Brodie and Taylor, who rarely took or gave a salute on the job, remembered to return the salute.
Butler led them down the hallway, passing a few closed doors. “I’ll take you to the front lobby where you can relax while we’re getting things set up for the briefing. How was your flight in?”
“Fine,” said Brodie. “Except for the Lufthansa pilots detouring over London for a practice bombing run.”
Butler ignored the bad joke and said, “I’ve been doing some reading on Mr. Vance, and it sounds like he had a remarkable career.”
“Yes,” said Brodie. “We lost a good one.”
Taylor asked, “Who will be running the briefing?”
“Sharon Whitmore, the senior legal attaché.”
“Will the BKA and the Berlin Police be present?”
