Chapter 7
Chip didn't have any luck questioning Fisher, Lee's contact at the Frankfurt consulate. Fisher was positive no one had been lurking about. When he heard Chip was coming, he checked through the consulate's security tapes again, but nothing stood out that night or the night before or after. There were no reports made to security of suspicious activities around the building.
Fisher offered the tapes to Chip who watched them already knowing nothing would show up. Fisher was a professional; he would not have missed someone loitering especially after Lee's disappearance. Chip showed the agent Schmidt's picture and together they scanned the tapes again. Chip had been correct in his fears, no signs of the taxi or its driver.
"When Crane was an hour past due, and wasn't answering his cell phone, I sent a member of my security team to backtrack but there wasn't a sign of him or any accident. By then it was dark making it difficult to see. I took a team and we went over the route at first light. I thought we might find skid marks or some sign of a car being forced off the road. Once on the autobahn, it would be almost impossible to tell."
"But don't you think if the kidnapping happened on the autobahn someone would've noticed and reported it?"
"At that time of night with the speed of the cars I don't believe anyone would be foolish enough to try anything. I'm betting the abduction happened on a city road. The team didn't find any trace of blood at the couple places that showed tire prints on the shoulder of the road."
The good news was no blood, the bad news there were 60 miles where Lee could have been waylaid if Fisher was correct about the autobahn. The Marine who had been on duty was questioned. He backed up Fisher's statement of no unusual activity.
"I'm sorry, but I didn't notice anyone out of the ordinary. When Mr. Fischer advised me of Commander Crane's visit, I was extra vigilant."
When the Marine didn't recognize a photo of Schmidt, Chip thanked him and the sergeant returned to duty.
In the meantime, Kowalski and Patterson were making the rounds, showing Schmidt's photo to the businesses and stores around the area. Both were becoming more and more discouraged at the negative answers. Ski knew the idea had been a long shot but both had gotten their hopes up. They joined Mr. Morton in Fisher's office trying not to show their discouragement. Kowalski knew this whole mess was hardest on the XO. Everyone on Seaview knew of their closeness.
"Sorry, sir, Patterson and I struck out. No one recalls anyone looking even remotely like our suspect."
"Thanks, Kowalski, we all knew there was just a slim chance someone would recognize this guy."
Chip filled in the two men about the other futile search efforts. Shaking hands, they left Fisher offering to continue checking what he could and the disheartened men returned to the rental car, Patterson once more behind the wheel.
"Where to, sir?"
"Back to the hotel, Pat."
Kowalski had hoped that Mr. Morton would suggest stopping to eat. He was concerned about the XO. Everyone always joked about his hearty appetite, but in the past couple days he was eating more like the skipper. Ski decided to risk the exec's temper.
"Mr. Morton, why don't we get some lunch. You didn't eat much breakfast and it's a three-hour drive back."
"I'm not very hungry."
Pat jumped into the discussion. "With all due respect, sir, you are always after the skipper to eat. Don't you think you should follow your own advice? Besides, the police detective said he should have the report when we get back. If we stopped now, you can start in on it as soon as we get back to the hotel."
"I knew my nagging would come back and bite me one day. Okay, you win. Lunch it is."
Chip had to admit, he had been running on empty. He was aware of the two men's concern about his well-being and had to laugh as they kept trying to get him to sample their dishes. He politely accepted a small portion of each entrée and agreed both were very tasty. Now sitting in the back of the car, he was working out a plan of attack regarding tomorrow's talk with Herr Schmidt. Chip hope Detective Benner was able to discover something they could use as leverage.
Chip was startled when the car abruptly jerked to a halt. A child had run out into the street and Pat's alert driving had avoided hitting the young boy. Morton looked sheepishly towards the front seat, surprised he had fallen asleep during the drive back to Bitburg. Pat glanced into the rearview mirror and gave him a small smile.
"Sorry about that, sir. He came out of nowhere."
"Don't worry about it, Pat. It's better than being tossed from my rack when Seaview gets hit by a seaquake. How much longer?"
"We'll be at the hotel in fifteen minutes, sir. Any orders?"
"I'll need to see what the detective has, Pat. Then we'll plan our attack. Why don't you and Kowalski check with the taxi company and see if they have heard anything from Schmidt. Find out what time he's due at work."
"Aye, aye, sir. And maybe Eva has more of those pfeffernusse cookies Ski was scarfing down."
Kowalski gave his friend a jab to the shoulder and turned to the exec.
"I was just being diplomatic, sir. We were accusing her company of illegal acts."
"Ambassador Kowalski, has a nice ring to it, don't you agree, Patterson?"
The laughter helped lighten the mood in the car. The trip's negative results were not unexpected, but still deflating. Chip had hoped for something; now they were back to relying on what, if anything, the taxi driver would reveal. Morton stopped by the front desk where he picked up the thick envelope from Benner and ordered a pot of coffee sent to his room. It looked like he had some reading to do.
Ski and Pat returned with news that Schmidt had called and was told to report for the 10 to 6 shift tomorrow.
"Richard talked to him and swore he didn't let on we had been there. He told us it would only take ten minutes for our guy to get to work."
"Right, we'll go to the house around nine. It will prevent anyone from slipping up and warning him that we were asking questions."
"Anything good in the report, sir?"
"Nothing so far, Ski. Mostly personal information; birthplace, parents' names and his schooling. I'm just getting to his work history. I had a message to call the Institute. Angie passed on the fact Schmidt is unknown to ONI or any other agency. They are still digging. As far as they can tell, he's never been to the U.S., at least not under that name." He paused to take a sip of coffee and motioned towards the pot. "Help yourself, not as strong as Cookie's, but still good."
"Mr. Morton, did the report say what he studied? Speaking all those languages, I was wondering what his career plans were."
"Good point, Pat. He dropped out of college after his first year. He learned English and French in high school but there wasn't any mention of the other language classes in college. Maybe his work history will shed some light."
The two men poured their coffee and read the parts Morton had finished. Pat pointed out the mother passed away while Schmidt was in high school and his father died right after he completed his first year in college, probably the reason he left school.
Schmidt had numerous jobs in many cities. When he finally ended up in Berlin, he got a job with a tour agency, first as a driver. The owner had commented on how swiftly Schmidt picked up the language from different countries and how personable he was with the travelers, and he had soon been promoted to a tour guide. He worked there for fifteen years. Benner had contacted the agency, now run by the son. When he left he was their top guide, having visited Eastern Europe, China, and even some Middle Eastern countries. Finally, Schmidt had returned from a month-long tour of Russia when he unexpectedly quit, giving no reason.
There had never been any more trouble than usual with his groups. A missing wallet, a lost passport, and an occasional accident; the same everyday mishaps that occurs when a large group travels. The son did recall the death of a tourist on one of the trips, but the subsequent police investigation had turned up no more than an unlucky bit of chance. The woman had walked into a robbery in progress and been shot. One month later Schmidt quit and in less than a month he was in Bitburg. The taxi driver job had started two years ago, and within six months he'd gotten the dispatcher's job.
At least that explains the languages. Chip was curious about the murdered woman. Was it a coincidence that Schmidt left his job three months later? He made a note to ask the detective and Admiral Johnson for more info. He handed the last pages to Ski and Pat then got up and stretched his legs. Staring at the window looking out he wondered if they were fooling themselves. Would they find Lee alive?
It was only three hours later when Chip heard back from the police detective. They were both surprised the dead woman was a British national. Benner said the killer was never caught. Chip contacted ONI to see if they could do a fast check. He was awakened at four in the morning by an irate Admiral Johnson yelling and wanting to know what the hell Morton had gotten himself mixed up in. The routine check with the British for some information had resulted in Johnson getting a call from MI6 just as he was sitting down to dinner with some guests. After the usual game playing the intelligence agency had admitted that the dead tourist had actually been one of 'theirs.' They wanted to know what interest ONI had.
"Admiral, I was playing a hunch but had no idea there was any espionage involved. The man that was the tour guide at the time of the murder is a suspect in Commander Crane's disappearance. I thought maybe he was involved in smuggling or perhaps a gang of thieves. My plan was to try and bluff him about the murder."
"How sure are you he's involved?"
"I don't know, sir. I found it interesting after fifteen years he would quit his job without a notice or reason just a month after the death. I'll be questioning him in a couple hours. What can I use about the British agent?"
"I have to talk to my counterpart in London. I'll get back to you as soon as possible."
Chip leaned back against the headboard thinking. Could the British agent have been in the wrong place at the wrong time? If that was the case, Lee was probably dead. The ability to kill an innocent person so easily did not look good for Crane. Was his friend a victim of a simple mugging gone wrong? No, not with the removal of his personal effects from his room. Or was it what everyone thought at first, whoever grabbed him somehow knew about the manuscript? Was it just by chance some criminal recognized Lee as the captain of Seaview and was after its secret? Was Schmidt involved with the MI6 agent's death or just an unlucky guy? These questions and more were going around in Morton's head while he waited for the admiral's return call. When the cell phone went off, Chip grabbed it before the second ring.
"Okay, Commander. The official story from MI6 is she was employed by them but was on vacation with her German husband and not on any assignment. Unofficially, there was a lead she was chasing but as far as they could tell, it turned out to be a dead end. MI6 won't share with us any Intel but approved the use of the official story. You didn't hear it from me, Commander, but if you want to imply something more, I would think it would be very beneficial when questioning your suspect. Nothing like thinking a government's intelligence agency is after you for murdering one of their people."
"Yes sir! I totally agree with you. And since we are civilians, our government isn't involved, either. Once I'm finished with Schmidt I'll contact Agent Gordon and pass along anything I learn."
"Gordon's up to speed regarding this new information. He hasn't found anything suspicious. None of the other agencies have heard any increased chatter. We're pretty sure there is no terrorist involvement."
"Then Gordon is returning to the Czech Republic?"
"No, that mission is finished. I'm giving him another 24 hours then I'll be reassigning him. Of course, he is due some vacation time. I hear the Black Forest is lovely this time of year," Johnson said very clearly. "Keep me posted, Commander."
"Yes, sir, good night."
The implication was clear, and Chip was grateful with the addition of the trained ONI operative to their team. Give him a giant jellyfish attacking Seaview or a mad scientist running amok on the boat and he could handle it. This spy stuff was Lee's cup of tea. He scooted down on the bed, hoping to get a little more sleep. He had to be sharp when talking to Schmidt if he was going to get any helpful information out of him.
Heinrich Schmidt was having a great morning. Taking 'sick' time was always a good thing after pulling a job for Decker. He was conveniently absent when the police would show up asking their stupid questions. It had worked out for him when the scientist friend of Herr Klink had been 'mugged' shortly after leaving his cab. There was another 'witness' so he was never implicated in the attack, but still it was better to be safely out of reach of the police.
Decker called when Crane showed up due to von Kempner's health. They had to be prepared to stop him from leaving Germany any way they could. Schmidt was informed about the bug placed on the professor's phone. It was a stroke of luck that the call came in from the house to pick up a passenger.
Planning ahead for any possibility, Schmidt complaining early in the morning of feeling ill. If he needed a reason for a sudden absence, it wouldn't raise any suspicion. The plan had been to grab Crane, that he took something away from the professor's house was pure gravy.
Working for a small cab company in Bitburg was beneath him, but the jobs he received from Herr Decker more than made up for it. He snickered to himself when Richard told him to come in at 10 o'clock, how he must be tired out after all his treatments. They knew they had a good thing with him working as the dispatcher; they had never received a single complaint. Eva knew the company couldn't get along without him for very long. He glanced at his watch when the doorbell rang, irritated someone would disturb him so early.
The three men were standing on Heinrich Schmidt's doorstep when the door was yanked open and their suspect stood before them.
"Was möchten Sie? Stimmt etwas nicht?
Chip went into his XO mode, quickly and forcefully answering the questions.
"What we want is to ask you some questions and what is wrong is our friend is missing, Herr Schmidt. You were the last person to see Herr Crane. I'm sure you want to help us find him."
Schmidt looked at the men with a startled expression that quickly turned to fear.
"Ich verstehem Sie nicht." He tried playing the fool, acting like he didn't know what they were saying.
"Don't say you can't understand us, we know you speak fluent English."
Reluctantly the man switched to English.
"I don't know anything about your friend. Now leave, I have to go to work."
Morton wasn't backing down. "No, you're going to talk to us, and I suggest we do it inside. Unless you want your neighbors to know you are a murderer?"
Schmidt had started to shut the door in Chip's face but the word murderer stopped him. He tone was curt when he responded.
"I haven't murdered anyone. What right have you to accuse me of such a crime?"
"Inside." Kowalski and Patterson pushed the protesting Schmidt back into his house. The men did not pull their guns in public, but casually pushed back their jackets revealing the concealed weapons.
"I'll call the police!"
"Please do and ask for polizei kriminalrat Benner. He's been doing a lot of checking up on you. About three years ago, a young woman was killed. The police concluded she was an innocent bystander in the wrong place at the wrong time. But that's not true. She was a British subject. In fact, as you know, she worked for MI6. That's why you killed her, she found out what you were involved in. Your job as a tourguide made it easier for you to travel to other countries, didn't it? I have to admit it was a great cover.
"You have a nasty habit of being around when bad things happen. Murder in one case, kidnapping in another." Chip couldn't and wouldn't say the word dead when referring to Lee; he had to remain optimistic his brother was alive.
"You're crazy. Of course, I remember her. Who could forget such a terrible thing? She was traveling with her husband. She wanted to buy an anniversary present for him, that's why she was alone. And I never saw this man Crane you are talking about."
"Please don't insult my intelligence. The woman was a trained agent on assignment and somehow you found that out and murdered her. I'm sure you're aware there is no statute of limitation on murder. When MI6 was contacted last night, they were very grateful. I wouldn't be surprised to see someone on the doorstep anytime now. Or maybe some other government will take care of you as payback for other incidents in their country. We did send inquiries to other places you've traveled to."
Chip was taking a chance with that last part, but it made sense that the killing and Lee's disappearance weren't the only crimes Schmidt was involved in.
A bead of sweat appeared on Schmidt's forehead. "Why are you saying this? I told you, I have never murdered anyone, It is possible I had your friend as a fare but I do not recall picking him up. Leave me alone!"
Chip could see he was finally getting to Schmidt. He had to turn up the heat some more.
"You've seen the movies. Someone pushed under a bus. Maybe some digitalis in your coffee, untraceable after a few hours. Or perhaps a mugging, shot down in some back alley. You can forget all about the proper Brit, that's only for the diplomatic world. The world you live in is dirty - an eye for an eye."
"Nein, what you say is not true." Schmidt was sweating profusely now, looking out of the front window as if expecting to see his executioner standing there.
"James Bond was based on facts. Agents are licensed to kill. I can see them fighting over who's going to do the job. You killed one of them - now it's personal."
All during Morton's tirade, Patterson and Kowalski kept crowding Schmidt, breathing down his back. Kowalski now addressed Chip.
"Sir, maybe we should leave. Who knows, England's not that far away. Maybe the assassin has been here already. A bomb placed under the house, a deadly gas slowly poisoning the air in this room. Or he could be across the street with a high-powered rifle, just waiting to take the kill shot. That would be my best guess. We could end up as collateral damage."
Chip turned to Pat. "Did you bring the handcuffs?"
"Yes, sir." Patterson pulled out a set from his pocket.
"Good, let's cuff him and put him in the chair. But first, move it closer to the window, might as well make it easier for our allies. If he doesn't know anything about Crane as he claims, he's no good to us. Let the British take care of him."
Kowalski positioned the chair right in the center of the window and opened the drape a little to give the 'shooter' a better view. Pat shoved the now panic-stricken man into the seat, and handcuffed his wrists behind his back.
"Gott helfe mie. I swear I did not kill anyone!"
"God can't help you, but maybe I can. What did you do with our friend Lee Crane? Where is he?"
Schmidt was now drenched in sweat, shaking so hard it was amazing he didn't fall out of the chair.
"He'll kill me." Schmidt struggled to stand, but stopped when two guns pointed directly at his head.
"You're dead if you don't talk. Tell me what I want to know and you might have a chance to escape."
"I can't. You don't know what kind of man he is."
"Maybe you're right. A nice clean shot will be nice and quick. Are you sure you won't tell me where Crane is?"
"He's mad. He grabbed Crane for revenge." Schmidt was babbling, "What do you think he'll do to me if I tell you anything more?"
"You could give yourself up to the German police. I don't think the British government would want an international incident by eliminating you in a German prison."
"I swear, I never hurt that woman. On my mother's grave, I swear it."
"I'm tired of you swearing you don't know. I'm not an idiot. I want answers! Tell me where Lee Crane is, I might be able to convince the police of that. You save Crane's life and it might go in your favor."
Schmidt was close to hyperventilating now, the fear etched on his face. Still, he held his tongue.
"Last chance. What do you know about Lee Crane?"
Silence.
"Okay, let's go. I really don't like the sight of blood. Sorry we couldn't help. Enjoy the last few minutes of your life. Who knows, maybe it will be several hours before the gunman shows up. You can repent your sins to that God you called for help."
Chip started walking away, mentally crossing his fingers. If this didn't work, they would need to get physical. Beating a helpless man appalled him, but he would do anything to save his close friend. He reached the front door.
"One of you get the ropes out of the car and tie him to the chair. We'll leave him to his fate."
Just as his hand touched the handle, Schmidt called out. Terrified, he fell to his knees attempting to rise out of the chair. "Decker, the man's name is Decker!"
Chip was on him in a minute pulling him up to his feet with ease, shaking Schmidt for answers. When he wouldn't say anything else, Morton exploded. A fist conducted with Schmidt's jaw, and he crumpled. Ski and Pat threw the unconscious man back onto the seat, removing the cuffs and roughly wrapping his arms behind the back of the chair where they re-secured his wrists with the handcuffs. Chip went to the small kitchen and filled up a pitcher he found in the dish drainer and splashed the water into Schmidt's face. Stepping back, he waited until the man revived, and started the questioning.
"Don't give me that crap about you not knowing. Who is this guy Decker? What does he want with my friend?"
Perhaps realizing what he'd done, Heinrich kept his mouth shut.
"How do you know Decker wants revenge? Tell me what you know about Decker's and Crane's past!" Chip yelled at Schmidt.
"I don't know."
"Yes, you do. Earlier you said it was for revenge. Why does he want retaliation?"
"Why don't you believe me? I don't know. I told you who took your friend, now let me go!"
The German seemed to regain some courage, declining to part with any further information. Morton kept after him, demanding to know where Lee was being held, but Schmidt refused to answer. During this interrogation, and seeing things were at an impasse, Patterson left the house, trotting over to their car. Hoping to 'encourage' Heinrich, Pat removed the visor's mirror and angled the glass to catch the sun. The reflected glare bounced through the house's front window, right into Schmidt's face for a second or two.
Schmidt jerked his head. "What the hell is that?"
Ski caught on quickly, having observed Pat's exit.
"I've seen this before, the sun reflects off the scope of a rifle. Sir, you better stand away from the window," Kowalski cautioned, enjoying his role in this charade.
Chip looked at Kowalski, momentarily confused. A weapon wouldn't produce a glare like that. At Ski's wink, he realized what was happening and moved several steps to the left.
"Get me out of here. You can't let them kill me in cold blood!"
"Why not, you're a murderer and a kidnapper!Who knows what other crimes you have committed?"
What courage Schmidt had reclaimed quickly left him.
"I swear to you, I never killed anyone. I don't have the nerve to do something like that. Please, uncuff me." Schmidt attempted to stand, almost tipping over the chair.
"You should be safe as long as we're here. But if you don't cooperate, we're out of here and who knows what will happen. Where is Crane being held? Or are you frightened to tell us you've killed him too?"
Chip stomach tightened, afraid of what the answer might be. It could be the reason for the cab driver's reluctance to talk.
"Nein, nein, he was unharmed when I saw him."
"Now we're getting someplace. When and where was that?"
"You know the answer. I was the taxi driver who picked him up at Professor von Kempner's place."
"I already knew that!" Chip wanted to scream in frustration, but instead used the skills he'd honed over the years questioning crewmen. "Tell me something I don't. What happened to him?"
Schmidt looked out the window trying to see the assassin, maybe figuring out his chances of evading the bullet so he wouldn't have to admit to anything further.
"Come on; quit stalling. What did you do to our friend? We're losing our patience!"
Kowalski made a show of removing his jacket. He cracked his knuckles, muttering under his breath just loud enough that he was going to enjoy this. Nodding towards his coat, he casually mentioned it was new and didn't want to get blood all over it. Ski walked up behind their prisoner and roughly yanked his head backwards by the hair.
"You heard my boss, stop stalling and start talking! Tell me, have you ever been pistol whipped?"
Kowalski was really getting into his role as the enforcer and Chip played along with him. "Take it easy kid, let's give the man one more chance." Standing in front of the chair, he leaned forward, his face inches away from Schmidt.
"What do you say, Schmidt? Tell us where Crane is or I'll turn the kid loose on you. Once he gets worked up, it's hard to stop him." Ski gave the hair another not so gentle tug.
Heinrich turned so pale Chip was afraid he would pass out. He was perspiring freely and biting his lips.
"All I know is Decker hated your guy Crane. He ordered us to nab him and we did."
Morton let out an exaggerated sigh, stepped back away from the man, and looked at Kowalski. "Okay, he's all yours; just give him a sample of what will happen, but just use your fists, this time."
Chip knew Kowalski never was one to back away from a fight, but this was different. Beating up a defenseless man went against their code. He also knew that Ski was closer to Lee than any of theother ratings, and Chip could count on him to follow through no matter how distasteful this job was. The skipper's life depended on it. Kowalski let go of the hair, and took a couple menacing steps putting him face to face with Schmidt.
"Well, what's it going to be, buddy?"
Schmidt shook his head and sobbed. "I've told you all I know." He closed his eyes and flinched, waiting for the blows.
Morton showed two fingers, Ski nodded his understanding and delivered a fist into Heinrich's gut, followed with a rapid, but restrained, jab to the jaw. All the punches got out of the bound man was some moaning and pleading not to kill him.
"Get him out of the chair and put him on the couch."
Pat, who had returned, unlocked the handcuffs to allow Schmidt to stand then shoved him down on the middle cushion of the couch. Chip sat next to him, hoping the sudden change in tactics would throw the man of balance.
"Look, Schmidt, you're safe from the sniper for now. I did my good deed, now it's time for yours. Start at the beginning."
"I've told you and told you. Decker ordered us to kidnap Crane."
"Where did you take him?"
He shook his head hysterically. "I don't know, I never know these things."
"And who does, or did you just shoot him?"
"Nein! He was unhurt when..."
"When WHAT! What happened?" Now that Schmidt had started, Chip had to keep him talking.
"They moved him to another vehicle to take him away."
"Good, now we're getting somewhere. Who moved him and what kind of car were they driving?"
"Johann and Karl in a black SUV."
"Last names? What about the car plates?"
"Why would I know that? And we only use first names."
"So you never meet or speak to them at other times?"
"No, only when we get orders from Herr Decker."
"And these two men drove away with our friend, but he was all right?"
"Ja. We were told no rough stuff. But Karl … Karl has a bad temper at times."
"Descriptions of these men?"
"Thirty to thirty-five, average height and weight, both have short light brown hair."
"Nothing to distinguish them, to help us identify them?"
"They are just average looking."
"What about Herr Decker? He's the mastermind behind this, what does he look like?"
"I don't know - I don't know! I met him over 20 years ago and he was standing in the shadows." Schmidt started crying. "They don't tell me anything except what I need to do."
"So you spy on hotel guests and pick up VIP's in your taxi, trying to overhear information." Chip let Schmidt know what they had uncovered, hoping to prod something more out of him.
"Ja, ja – that's all I do – no violence. I don't like violence. I call Herr Decker when I have information."
Morton pounced on this. "You called him! What was the number, maybe we can get it traced?"
"It's always a disposable cell."
"Do Karl and Johann know where this Decker lives?"
"I don't know," Schmidt sighed. "They might have delivered your friend to where he's staying or someplace else. Please, I've told you all I know. Let me leave. I've never harmed anyone. I'm too much of a coward."
"What about the British agent? What was your part in that?"
"I was to a keep an eye on her and call the number Herr Decker gave me if I found out she would be alone. That's all I did, I swear. Now, can I go?"
"You set up a woman to be killed. I think the police will be very interested. Keep an eye on him; I've got to make a call. Better yet, put the cuffs back on him."
"Nein, you promised! Wait! I'll… I'll make you a deal. I have one more piece of information to trade you for a fifteen minute head start."
Chip paused with the phone in his hand, thinking.
"Talk fast; I'm dialing in 30 seconds. One, two…"
"I heard Johann speaking about Neuerburg, about having to drop off a package there."
"That's it?"
"Package is what we call whatever we pass on to Herr Decker."
"You've got five minutes, starting now."
Afraid to argue about the difference in time, Schmidt tore out of the room. He took precious seconds to get his passport and retrieve the cache of emergency getaway money he had taped under the table. His car barely turned the corner when three police cars arrived. Patterson had been waiting out front and quickly gave a description of the car and plate number to the officers along with the direction the car was traveling. Two of the cars took off after the fugitive and the third, containing Benner, stopped. By the time he exited the vehicle, Morton and Kowalski were outside. Chip removed the wire he was wearing, and handed it over to the detective.
"I don't think I ever want to play cards with you, Herr Morton."
"Did you get everything? For what it's worth, I think he was telling the truth. He just passes on what he learns by eavesdropping."
"Unfortunately, with no last names or distinguishing marks or characteristics, I'm afraid we'll never capture Karl or Johann. That description fits a third of the men in Bitburg, and I doubt they are local if you believe Schmidt had never seen them except when he was working for this Decker guy."
"Have you ever heard of him?"
"No, but maybe our intelligence division or your ONI or CIA has."