"Most days it is my own business. But right now, as fate would have it, my business is all about you."
-Jackson Rippner
Thursday, June 16. Berlin.
Jackson sat at the bar, slowly sipping a glass of red wine while evaluating his surroundings. After nearly two weeks of following Tobias Kohler back and forth between his apartment and the Embassy, this was a nice change of scenery – and activity. Jackson had lately been spending a lot of time in a large park near the Schweizerische Botschaft. Kohler, like many employees of the Embassy and other neighboring buildings, frequently took his lunch break outside. Grateful for the string of warm, sunny days that both ensured a sizeable crowd in the park and made his own hours spent waiting outside more bearable, Jackson had found a perfect vantage point from which he could spot Kohler as he exited the building and then casually fall into step behind him.
Surveillance was one of Jackson's earliest developed skills when he had begun working with Alex, and it was one he had down to perfection. He had followed Lisa for eight weeks and still she hadn't remotely recognized him when they first met at the airport. Two weeks into tailing Kohler, he was entirely confident that the other man had no idea he was being watched. It helped that the park was full of businessmen, and Jackson could blend into that crowd without even trying. On his first full day on the job, he had identified Kohler as he left the Embassy and tailed the other man on his drive home. Knowing where the German lived gave Jackson two locations from which to watch him. Jackson couldn't get past Embassy security without credentials he didn't currently possess, and even spending too much time in the lobby had the potential to arouse suspicion. So it was lunchtimes in the park, and evenings at Kohler's apartment building a short drive away in Mitte. Jackson had quickly identified the major hurdle to watching Kohler at his apartment; the building did not have security, but it did seem to have residents who generally recognized one another. Needing a way to get closer, he had decided it was time for a change in tactic.
Jackson had learned to trust his instincts, and they were telling him that Kohler was somehow involved in whatever Lutz was planning. The man seemed to be on edge, and checked his phone with a frequency that definitely classed it as unusual behavior. So far, however, Kohler had not said or done anything that could confirm Jackson's suspicions. To be fair, it had been less than two weeks and, even if Kohler was involved, it was absolutely certain that the two men wouldn't be in constant communication. Jackson's efforts at otherwise tracking down Lutz had not yet yielded much promise – he had picked up on some chatter to confirm that Lutz was definitely in Berlin, but hadn't been able to find out where he might be staying or what he was up to. And Jackson was wary of relying too heavily on his local contacts for information. He and Lutz traveled in not-so-different circles, and he didn't want to risk that word of his inquiries might get back to the other man. Kohler was far easier to investigate, particularly because he had no reason to expect that anyone might be watching, but it would all come to nothing if he knew nothing.
Jackson glanced up as the door opened, hiding his satisfied smile when he saw who had entered. Right on time. The blond-haired woman crossed to the bar and took the stool two away from where he sat. He heard the bartender greet her by name and watched from the corner of his eye as a drink was placed before her on the bar. A regular. But then, Jackson knew that. The woman sitting mere feet from him lived in the same building as Kohler, one floor up. He had watched her come and go for several days before he'd followed her. This bar, around the corner from the hospital where she worked, was her local. She stopped by most nights on her way home; he was glad she hadn't disappointed tonight.
Jackson glanced along the bar, catching her eye and offering a smile. She smiled back. "Long day?" He inquired in German, nodding at her glass of wine, already half gone.
She chuckled and nodded. "The longest." She tipped her head to the side. "I haven't seen you in here before."
"First time."
"Ah." She smiled. "You're French?"
Jackson inclined his head. "Oui." He indicated the seats between them, switching back to German. "May I?" At her nod, he shifted over to the stool next to hers and offered his hand. "Alain."
She shook his hand firmly and offered a warm smile. "Annika."
"It's a pleasure, Annika."
"Likewise." She took another sip of wine. "So what brings you to Berlin?"
"Research," he replied easily, sipping at his own glass. "At the Staatsbibliothek. I'm researching Franco-German relations for a possible book."
Her eyes widened. "Oh, fascinating," she exclaimed, and he could tell she meant it. "You're a historian?"
"Journalist, by trade." He explained. "Currently on sabbatical."
While he had not anticipated the potentially fortuitous situation that he presently found himself in, Jackson had expected a possible need to go undercover. Thus, he had left London not as Jackson Rippner, but as Alain Durand. His younger years in Paris and affinity for languages allowed him to speak French like a native, more than could be said for his – albeit very good – German. German with a hint of French accent was requiring a bit more effort, but apparently it was working.
"I'd love to hear about your research," Annika was saying. "What drew you to the subject?"
"I lived in Kaiserslautern for several years as a child," Jackson explained. That was, in fact, true. The best lies were those with some elements of truth in them. "So I suppose I've always had an attachment to both countries, and an interest in the relationship between them."
"That explains why your German is so good," Annika replied, with a wry smile. "My French is abysmal."
Jackson smiled. "And what is it that you do?"
"I'm a doctor," she replied. "A cardiologist."
"Wow." Jackson made sure to look suitably impressed. He was turning on the charm, after all. "Far more important work than what I do, to be sure."
Annika smiled and blushed faintly.
"Annika." Jackson leaned ever so slightly closer. "Can I get you another drink?"
Saturday, June 25. London.
"Sounds like Jackson is making progress in Berlin," Alex commented, setting the last dish on the table and taking a seat opposite Kaylie.
"I think so," Kaylie nodded, reaching for the nearest serving bowl.
"Hopefully Kohler will soon make contact with Lutz," he continued. "And give Jackson the opportunity to get the proof we need."
"Jackson seems pretty confident that Kohler is involved," Kaylie commented.
"Yes." Alex smiled. "And, at this point, I've learned to trust his instincts about this sort of thing."
"I just don't get why Kohler would do it," Kaylie confessed. "I know it doesn't really matter, but it seems an awful lot of risk to take on."
"It is," Alex agreed. "We can only assume that whatever payment or deal he was offered has made it worth his while." He smirked. "Up until now, anyway."
"Do you know anything about Lutz?"
"I'm familiar with his reputation," Alex explained. "Never met the man in person. He's made a good name for himself as a killer-for-hire."
"You've never thought about contracting with him?" Kaylie wondered.
Alex smiled. "No. Lutz tends to work directly with his clients, and I already had my own contacts in his area of expertise before he came on the scene." He frowned then. "If he really is going after an old enemy for revenge, you can definitely believe I won't ever be considering working with him in the future."
Kaylie hid a smile by taking a sip of wine. For all the unsavory business he was involved in, Alex was a man who stuck to his principles. "Twenty years is a long time to hold a grudge," she offered.
Alex nodded, waiting until he'd finished chewing to speak. "Indeed it is. And, with any luck, we'll hopefully soon know what he's planning. It'll be easier for Jackson to keep tabs on Kohler, too, now that he's installed himself in Kohler's building."
Kaylie's brow furrowed. "He's what now?"
"Jackson's managed to get himself involved with a woman who lives upstairs from Kohler, thus giving him a cover for being in the building."
Kaylie was still stuck on the first part of his sentence. "Involved? Like, involved-involved?"
Alex looked up from pouring more wine with a slight smirk. "Yep."
Kaylie shook her head. "I don't think I could ever do that," she admitted. "To be with someone for a job, even briefly, without any real emotional connection."
"Between you and me, Kaylie," Alex replied, still smirking. "I think Jackson finds it easier to be involved with someone when there isn't an emotional connection."
Kaylie thought of Lisa Reisert. Talking to Jackson about his feelings for Lisa was like trying to provoke a reaction from a brick wall. "Yeah, I can see that." She rolled her eyes. "Why am I not surprised he didn't tell me about this? He doesn't tell me anything." Her communications with Jackson since he'd left for Berlin had thus far consisted of requests for more information on his undercover alter ego's research project and a confirmation that he was indeed getting closer to Kohler. He just hadn't mentioned how.
Alex laughed, appearing only further amused when Kaylie scowled at him. "You'll have to forgive him, Kaylie, he's not really accustomed to working with a team. And he is undercover, which necessitates discretion in sharing any information."
Kaylie snorted. "I know. And it's not like he views me as anything other than a kid, anyway. But it's easier for me to be useful if I know what's happening."
Alex smiled sympathetically. "Well, you heard it from me, you have been most useful." Kaylie smiled in thanks. "And it might interest you to know that Jackson told me that I had better be prepared to let him borrow you again in the future."
Kaylie's eyes widened. "He said that?" That was high praise coming from one Jackson Rippner, and she knew it.
Alex nodded. "He did."
Kaylie smiled. "That makes me feel a little bit better."
Wednesday, July 6. Berlin.
"Alain? Sind Sie hier?"
"Ja," Jackson called in reply, closing down the files on his laptop and clicking shut the lid as Annika swept into her living room, long blond hair flying in all directions. He could tell by one glance that she'd had a long day at the hospital, although the smile gracing her features did a good job at hiding it.
"Gut." She replied, turning in a swirl of coat to vanish once again from the room. She called behind her, still in German: "Wine?"
He didn't need to answer, for she returned moments later with two glasses and an entire bottle – it really had been a long day –, before settling beside him on the couch. They lapsed into easy conversation, mostly Annika recounting the trials and tribulations of her day at work. Jackson didn't mind letting her do most of the talking. She had been entirely correct in her assertion that his German was better than her French, so German was the language of choice. She also spoke some English, but Jackson carefully avoided any real conversation in his native tongue, lest she realize it was exactly that.
"And how is the research coming today?" Annika asked then. She was most interested and attentive regarding his purported research project, making Jackson grateful that he had gone to the trouble of getting Kaylie to round up a considerable file on the subject, for exactly these sorts of conversations. He was easily able to rattle off some relevant information, sounding for all the world like a proper scholar. His actual day-to-day business was on another matter entirely.
At times, Jackson felt almost guilty for using her. She was smart, and kind, and didn't deserve to be caught up in this mess. He was positive she was entirely unaware that her downstairs neighbor had potentially gotten himself involved with a hired killer. It was a combination of luck and his skill in manipulation that had Jackson going home with the gorgeous woman on the very night they'd met. And she was gorgeous, even if this was all business. Their romance was of the hot and heavy variety, progressing rapidly to him spending most nights – and now days – in the doctor's flat. She had even given him a key, telling him to use her home for quiet working space while she was at the hospital, far better than his hotel room, she said.
Annika knew that Alain's time in Berlin was limited, Jackson mused, as she disappeared towards her bedroom, eyes on him until the last possible second, unbuttoning her shirt on the way. She knew that once his research was complete, he'd be gone, and she was completely at ease with their temporary fling. It really was an ideal situation. She'd probably never even know that his true motive for involving himself with her lie completely with the man residing downstairs. Jackson hopped to his feet, following her to the bedroom. Well, most of the motive, anyway. He was having a bit of fun, too. And that other mildly guilty feeling, accompanied by the occasional flashing memory of a petite brunette; well, that was probably best ignored.
Short-ish chapter, but things start to pick up a bit in chapter 3! And Lisa will be joining the fray before too long!
