Nate had returned his rental car to the airport, and they took Wally’s BMW M340i Sedan, driving south and boarding the Eurotunnel LeShuttle that transported them through the Chunnel, the thirty-one-mile-long tunnel that traveled under the Strait of Dover and connected southern England with northern France. The trip took all of thirty-five minutes from point to point, and Nate loved every minute of it. Wally, who had a slight case of claustrophobia, felt otherwise. Once on the mainland they entertained themselves in the car by utilizing Spotifyto play songs from competing rock bands: American versus English. Nate played bands like Lynyrd Skynyrd, Van Halen, and Guns N’ Roses, while Wally played tracks from Queen, the Rolling Stones, and Led Zeppelin. In the end, they called the contest a draw.
The pair stopped overnight in Brussels and compromised on their time. The first few hours Nate dragged his less than enthusiastic friend to Le Grand-Place and several other art nouveau sites including Stoclet Palace and the Saint-Cyr House. In the evening, Wally chose Aux Armes de Bruxelles on the rue des Bouchers for dinner, where they atemoules et fritesand sipped on too much French wine. The next morning they woke up and completed their journey, checking into their hotel early.
The Dorint Venusberg Bonn was a beautiful four-star hotel situated on a hilltop and surrounded by an ancient forest. Nate could not have picked a more relaxing location if he had tried, but it was Wally who had reserved their lodgings. It was also Wally who paid for it, for which Nate was grateful. The hotel was situated west of the city center, only a two-mile stroll to the U.N. campus.
The walk was pleasant, with beautiful trees and stunning architecture present along their way as they walked down winding paths to the city itself and then east to the river. They arrived with time to spare, got through security without issue, and checked in at the main building, a tall and reflective structure shooting up into the sky in the middle of the campus. And then they waited.
Even though they’d arrived early, it seemed the man who had set the meeting time was running behind schedule. The receptionist at the front desk said they were welcome to wait in the lobby, and so they did. They sat in the waiting area for two hours before leaving and getting lunch down the street at Forissimo, an Italian restaurant. The choice had been Wally’s, in an effort to change up their palate, and itwas delicious. When they returned, Nate once again spoke with the receptionist.
“I’m sorry,” she said with a shake of her head, “he still has not arrived.”
“Can you try him again?” Nate asked, feeling the frustration begin to creep up within him. She obliged, with no result.
“Is it possible that his phone isn’t working? Can we send someone up to check?”
The woman seemed annoyed but relented. She made a call and several minutes later a security guard arrived. After a brief conversation in German, of which Nate understood a little, the guard departed for the elevators. He returned five minutes later, spoke to the receptionist, and left.
“I am sorry,” she said again. “He is not here.”
Nate was irritated. He was so close to getting what he needed. “Is this normal, for Herr Richter to not show up to work without calling?”
“No, but it is possible that something may have come up to prevent him from coming in today. You are welcome to wait or come back tomorrow.”
Nate decided to do both, so they waited. He checked his email on his phone to see if there were any new messages. There weren’t, at least not from the man who worked in the building in which he now stood. There were some replies to the previous emails he sent out, but they weren’t particularly helpful and he didn’t feel like tending to them at the moment. He paced around, noting from the registry hanging on the wall that Richter’s office was on the sixteenth floor. He also noted the cameras at the building’s entrance, the alarm system, and the door that led to a patio out back that several workers had repeatedly used for smoke breaks. Lastly, he noticed the time.
It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon. He turned to Wally andshrugged. Wally glanced down at the hands of his Breitling Avenger Seawolf, a favorite watch of many who served in His Majesty’s SAS, and shrugged back.
“Endex?” Wally asked. He had been a great sport, sticking by his side even though Nate offered to let him off the hook. Rather than go back to the hotel, the Englishman had stayed, eventually plugging his phone into a nearby outlet while continuing to scroll through various apps to stave off boredom.
“Yeah,” Nate sighed, “I think so.” He turned to the receptionist. “Please, miss, if he arrives or calls, can you tell him we were here?” He wrote down his name and number on a piece of paper and slid it to her.
“I will,” she promised.
“Otherwise, I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, the frustration evident in his voice.
“Have a good evening, sir.”
Sure, Nate thought. A great evening.
As they left the building and walked back to the hotel, Nate was less enthused about the beauty of the city. Wally tried to cheer him up, and offered plausible explanations that didn’t involve the man just blowing him off. It was certainly possible something had come up, or that Richter had forgotten, or any number of other scenarios.
When they arrived at the hotel they went straight to the restaurant and had dinner. It was delicious, and Nate started to feel better. The walk had helped him blow off steam and the food, beer, and conversation were all helping to improve his mood.
“Right, so here’s the deal,” Wally said after they finished their meals. “That tosser has got to go back to his office at some point, right? We’ll just wait him out. We’ve got time, yeah?”
“It’s true,” Nate conceded.
“Of course it’s true! We know where he works. Even if he is trying togive us the slip, we’ll find him and get what we need sorted. No doubt he’ll be there tomorrow.”
Nate gave a mock toast and smiled. “Tomorrow it is, then.”
Nate approached his hotel room, feeling the disappointment ebb from his body. He was right, he could feel it. The underground water tables in Saudi Arabia were one of the keys to finding Ubar. If the region followed the same climate patterns as Shisr far to the south in Oman, then the ancient water sources that fueled the fabled city must be underground as well. Richter held the answer, and he would give the information up one way or the other, if Nate and Wally had to hunt him down themselves.
Fishing for his key card in his pocket, he casually glanced at the top of the door and froze. Something was missing. Before leaving for the day, he had placed a set of tells on his door, simple items that if disturbed would signify his room had been entered. In this case it was a single strand of hair applied to the top of the doorway with saliva, running across the door and the lintel. However, it was no longer present.
He hesitated before swiping his key card on the electronic lock, hearing a beep followed by the click of the door unlocking. TheDO NOT DISTURBsign was still hanging on the knob so the cleaning staff should not have entered.Still, what were the odds that someone had entered his room?Nate reminded himself that he was a civilian. This was not an operational deployment, but rather an academic fact-finding trip. There was no reason anyone would be targeting him, least of all here in Germany. He relaxed a bit. Besides, it was just as likely that a swift breeze from a passerby hurrying down the hallway had ripped the hair from its place. The security measure wasn’t perfect.
Nate depressed the handle and then slowly pushed the door open a crack. He heard the sound of paper falling to the floor and relaxed further. The second tell. He had placed the first on the outside, and inside he had shoved a brochure acquired in the lobby through the crack in the door until it no longer protruded on the outside. If someone had entered it wouldn’t have looked out of the ordinary for the brochure to be lying on the floor, but it worked to inform Nate whether or not his room had been tampered with.
