COLOGNE, GERMANY

Back in their hotel suite, Arianna pulled off her jacket and made her way to the room’s mini bar. “Well, that was an interesting conversation,” she said, as she poured herself a gin and tonic. “Anyone joining me in a drink? Kevin? Raul?”

Kevin dropped his camera bag on an empty chair. “A beer sounds good. Do they have any dark ale?”

Arianna looked through the selection of beers. “Try this.” She handed him a Lowenbrau Dunkel. “This looks like a dark beer of some sort. Raul, what are you having?”

“Just a soda, please.”

“You’re so good. I don’t think one drink would hurt, but I know your policy. You never drink when you’re working.”

“Have to be alert at all times. I’ll take a Coke.”

She popped the can open and poured the soda in a glass. “Technically you’re always on duty, so that means you can never drink. You’re a lot more disciplined than I am.”

Raul smiled at her and took a sip of his cola. “All part of the job.”

Arianna returned the smile and gave him a pat on the back as she passed by him. She pulled out her notebook, sat down on the sofa, and began reviewing her notes. “I thought Rashid’s story today was quite interesting. Things must really be bad back in his country for him to leave his pregnant wife and two children. I must say, his story puts a real human face on the tragedy that’s unfolding in Syria.”

Kevin checked his camera equipment and reviewed some of the video. “Well, we have it all on film, so whenever you want to run this story, let me know.”

Arianna flipped through her notes. “Not enough material yet, but in a couple days, I should be able to make my first report.”

“Löwenbräu Dunkel?” Kevin said, studying the label on his beer. “Don’t think this is available in the States, but it’s good stuff.” He set the bottle down and reached for the phone. “Hey, anyone hungry? I think I’ll call down for a fruit and cheese plate and maybe some Bavarian pretzels.”

“Sounds good. I’m a bit hungry myself.” Arianna continued reviewing her notes. “I thought the most chilling thing Rashid said was about how ISIS fighters were mixed in with the refugees. Of course, these men could simply be seeking asylum too, but somehow I think they have something more sinister in mind.”

“Math was never my strong suit,” Kevin said, as sat down across from her, “but if even a small percent of the refugees are terrorists, then there could be thousands of them here on the continent. That doesn’t bode well for the future.”

Arianna looked up and nodded, assessing the meaning of his statement. “When I talked to Dolph, he said there is much controversy about the refugees being here. Many German people are worried about their safety…afraid a terrorist attack is just around the corner.”

“And rightfully so,” Kevin added, “but then what do I know. I’m just a camera man. Not my concern.”

“It’s a story that needs to be told, however, so I’m going to stay on it.” Arianna snapped her notebook shut. “Let’s go through the video and begin to organize the segments I might use for a broadcast. As soon as I have enough material, I want to be ready to go on air with the story, so let me see what you filmed.”

A FLASH of lightning and clap of thunder woke Arianna from a deep sleep. Rain pelted the window and wind whistled around the building. She loved sleeping in a thunderstorm. Wrapped up in a cozy down comforter and nestled between luxurious percale sheets, she felt safe as the storm raged outside.

Sleep did not return quickly, however, and her thoughts wandered to Zach. God, how she ached to have his arms around her at this moment. She ran her hands up and down her body, across her breasts, down her belly, touching everywhere…wishing it could be Zach caressing her, comforting her at this moment.

Outside, the cacophony of the storm matched the discordant feelings raging inside her over Zach’s absence. Was he safe, she wondered? Did he think of her? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? When would she see him again? Funny. Before she met Zach, she had never once anguished over the absence of anyone in her life. Her job had always been enough, but now, her priorities had changed. Two loves in her life, at odds with each other. Her career and Zach. Could she have both? Would she have to choose some day? Only time would answer that question.

“WE’RE LATE.” Arianna dashed around puddles of water to get into the waiting car. The group was on its way to meet with Monica Friedland, contributing editor of the magazine Der Spiegel.

“I barely slept last night.” Arianna hurriedly applied make-up as they drove to their appointment. “That storm kept me awake.” She snapped her compact shut and blotted her lipstick. “I look like hell, but that’s what happens when you oversleep.”

Kevin shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. “I fail to see what the problem is. You look fine, Arianna. This is only an interview not a major deal.”

“Ha, an interview we might use later on a broadcast, and here I’ll be with bags under my eyes, and my hair sticking up every which way.”

They pulled up to the office of Der Spiegel. Looking out the window, Arianna saw protestors marching in front of the building. “Wow, wonder what is going on here.”

Dan Miller said, “I’m not sure, but I’ll make a path through the protestors, and Raul, you and Kevin usher Arianna through the crowd. I don’t think there’s any threat to us, but we might get bumped around a bit. Everyone ready?”

Raul nodded and the group exited the car and made their way to the front entrance, Miller in the lead, and Kevin and Raul on each side of Arianna. They rushed inside without incident and made their way to a security check point.

“I’m with CNS news.” Arianna showed her press pass. “We’re here to see Monica Friedland.”

They walked through the security scanner and were met on the other side by a woman who introduced herself as Frau Friedland’s secretary. “Good morning, Ms. Garrett. Please follow me.”

When they arrived at the door of Friedland’s office, Miller stopped and said, “I’ll be down there in the break room having coffee,” he said pointing down the hall. “Come get me when the interview is over.”

Raul rolled his eyes. Some protector he is.

The group proceeded into the office and was greeted by a tall, thin blond woman in her early forties. “Guten morgen. Ich bin Monica. Sprechen sie deutsch?”

“Nein. No, I’m sorry, Frau Friedland,” Arianna said, “only English, but this is Barry. He can interpret for us.”

“No need, Ms. Garrett. I speak English.”

“Very well then,” Arianna said, turning to Barry. “You can wait outside. I’ll send for you if I need you.”

“Let’s sit over here, shall we?” Monica motioned to a sitting area in her office. When they were all seated, she said, “I’ve done some checking, Ms. Garrett.”

“Please, call me Arianna.”

“Arianna then, and please call me Monica. As I was saying, I’ve done some checking, and I see you’ve established a name for yourself by covering some really gutsy stories. I like that in a reporter. How can I help you?”

Arianna pulled out the magazine article with the picture of the protester with the sign that read, Rapefugees nicht willkommen. “I saw this article in your magazine. We’ve not heard much about this in the States. I believe it’s a story worth covering, but I need your help getting the facts about what is going on.”

“Ah, yes,” Monica replied. She looked over at Kevin. “I see you have a camera man with you. I’m willing to talk to you, but a lot of what I say will be off the record. I don’t want anything released I don’t explicitly approve.”

“You have my word. And yes, this is Kevin Baxter. He handles all the audio and video for me. We won’t record anything you don’t approve.”

“Very well then, what questions do you have for me?”

Arianna pulled out her notebook and held it up for Monica to see. “I would like to take a few notes if you don’t mind…for my eyes only, of course.”

Monica nodded her consent.

“Thank you. So what can you tell me about the cause of these demonstrations? We saw protestors in front of your office today. Are they related to your article?”

“Yes, and no. I’m sure you are aware of the large influx of refugees coming from countries to escape the terrorists in their homelands. Yes, families have come, but there has also been a strong surplus of males between eighteen and thirty who have arrived. In the countries they come from, there are many restrictions on women and a lack of respect for females is the norm. Regretfully, these men have brought this misogyny with them, and it is causing many problems here in Germany.”

Arianna looked up. “Such as?”

“Recently, many women have been the victims of sexual assault. In the Arab world, there is something called, Taharrush gamea. Large groups of men surround women and grope and assault them. The women are taunted and have their veils torn off by gangs of young men. Sometimes it even escalates into rape. Taharrush gamea is a modern evil, and it’s being imported into Europe.”

“Wow, that’s some game. Don’t know why they call it a game. It’s terrible, and you say this is happening here? What kind of numbers are we talking about?” Arianna asked.

“Yes, during a holiday celebration this year, hundreds of women were attacked in one evening. Groups of men surrounded some women while a second group stood by and prevented passersby from intervening. The men groped the women everywhere…their chests, between their legs, everywhere. Some had their clothes torn away, and some were actually raped. ”

Arianna had stopped writing and looked up in disbelief. “That’s horrible. What is being done to these perpetrators?”

Monica shifted in her seat. “Oh, that’s the problem,” she scoffed. “The assailants disappeared into the crowd and avoided identification, so they were never punished. This has greatly divided our country.”

“Divided it how?” Arianna started writing again. ”I would think you’d be united over how horrendous this is.”

“Women do not feel safe anymore, and we are furious because little has been done to stop the attacks. In fact some have even tried to cover up the scale of the problem. Many women have been marching in protest. You saw one of the marches in my article. I must tell you however, to speak out against this is to be called a racist.”

“Racist? I don’t understand. How could you be a racist for denouncing this activity?”

“Unbelievable, but true. You see, some have sided with the refugees. One group said the victims brought this on themselves by dressing in a manner these men were not accustomed to. It is shameful…blaming the women. And another group said we needed to ban alcohol in order to prevent future attacks. Can you imagine…Germany, the home of Octoberfest, banning beer?”

Arianna looked over at Kevin, who was shaking his head. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked. “They weren’t serious, were they?”

“Oh, quite. Germany is divided between those who want to look the other way and welcome these migrants, and those who see them as a major disruption to Germany’s way of life and want them gone. It is very political, and protests have broken out everywhere.”

“I need to get close to one of these protests so I can get some first-hand interviews. Is that possible?”

Raul’s ears perked up. “Ah, hold on…you might want to rethink that.”

Arianna looked at him and shook her head. “No, I understand your concern, Raul, but I have to go where the story is. I will go. You can do your thing and tag along, but I’m going after this story.”

“You’re very brave, Arianna,” Monica said, “but be careful of when and where you go. You will be a target. And, also, if you report this story, you will make many people in the Muslim community very angry. You will become a target of their hatred as well. I know. There are protestors in front of my office every day because I dared to speak out.”

“I understand, but I can’t let their intimidation stop me from doing my job. I’m going after this story.”

Kevin looked over at Raul. Get ready. Here we go again.