Chapter 11

Ruff

 

 

1:47 p.m.

Munich, Germany

Ruff’s Burger

 

 

Sitting on the booth side of a combination booth/chair café table, back to the wall, Dahlia passed a menu to the server, “Danke – Thank you.” The young girl smiled and left to place the lunch orders.

Charity slipped out of her blazer and folded the garment over the back of the chair.

Dahlia glanced in all directions. Extremely small, the restaurant was clean, well lit and gave off a homey, cozy ambience. If filled to capacity, the noise level would have made for difficult conversations. At this time of the day, however, there were only a few other patrons and they were spaced far enough away for the two women to talk normally. “I like this place. Let’s hope their burgers are as good as the atmosphere.”

Charity gave the interior a cursory-inspection before staring at the wooden table.

Dahlia pushed condiment shakers to the side and squinted. “Something wrong?”

Charity frowned and shook her head. “I just can’t get past the fact that there were no signs of forced entry inside the lab.” She looked up. “That has to point to someone at the company being involved, doesn’t it?”

Dahlia nodded, “That’s what I was thinking,” and turned her head to the right. Two men in black woolen overcoats entered. One locked eyes with her and quickly broke away before the men claimed stools at a short bar ten feet from the door.

Charity tapped a forefinger on the table. “So, that means we have to take a closer look at the people on that list Dr. Kimmler gave us…the ones with level-five clearance.”

“Yes, we do.” Dahlia’s spine tingled. The man at the bar had turned away too quickly. There was a nuance, a dance to eye contact. Most people held another’s gaze for a couple seconds. Any longer and the exchange became uncomfortable; a social etiquette to which most conformed. In law enforcement, military, spy, and in Dahlia’s case, assassin circles, the timetable for a look meant other things. Holding a gaze for too long was seen as challenging the other person. Breaking away too quickly meant one was weak, or hiding something.

“I’ve got my laptop,” Charity took a drink of water, “in the car. I think we should start running through those names and see what pops up.”

“Uh…huh.” Dahlia stared at the men. The same man cranked his head around and pretended to glance out the window behind him. Her heart beat faster when his eyes caught hers again for a split-second. Much too quick.

Charity leaned left. “Are you listening to me?”

Dahlia watched a young couple. “Uh huh…level-five clearance.” The couple got up from their table and left the establishment. “Laptop in the car…See what pops up.” She flicked her eyes toward Charity. “You have your gun on you, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Charity rocked back slightly and scrunched her eyebrows, “why?”

Dahlia stared across the table. A moment later, out of her peripheral vision, she saw Man 1 shift in his seat and glimpse her again. Man 2 had been reading the same page on the menu for two minutes straight.

Charity regarded Dahlia, “You okay?” before noticing the woman’s clenched fists.

The former professional killer, who had maintained the skills of one, scowled at her partner. “Listen to me very carefully, Cherry. Don’t turn your head. There are two men sitting at the bar. I recognize one of them from the lab. He keeps looking at me. I’m not getting a good feeling about this, so we’re going to get up—”

“The lab is down the street,” Charity whispered. “They could be here for lunch…the same as us.”

Dahlia closed her eyes before blinking a few times and gaping at Charity. “Remember what I used to do for a living, Cherry? One in my line of work gets a sixth sense about these things. And, right now…alarm bells are banging off the inside of my skull.”

Charity’s face paled. A lump formed in her throat. She swallowed, but the mass did not move.

“You have to trust me on this.” She waited a beat. “Give me a short nod if you’re with me.” The gesture came a second later. “If I’m wrong about all this,” she flashed the hint of a smile, “then we just find another place to eat.” Her attempt to ease Charity’s concerns did not land.

“Now,” said Dahlia, “we’re going to get up, put on our coats, casually leave the restaurant and walk to our car. Leave your coat undone and be ready to go for your weapon on my signal. Got it?” Charity nodded, and Dahlia spied the men. “Okay, let’s go.”