“Let’s call Mitch and see how he’s doing,” Nick said, lying back on the couch in their fake marital home after the NAO meeting.
Ellen looked at her watch. “It’s about two in the morning in Berlin. We can’t call him.”
“Oh yeah, I forgot about that. I hope the German legat makes the trip worthwhile. Speaking of sex …”
“Were we?” Ellen asked. “Mitch wouldn’t do the legat on a trip.”
“You’re probably right,” Nick said. “He wouldn’t be able to concentrate long enough to get—”
“—the motivation,” Ellen cut him off.
“Yeah, that’s what I was going to say. And while I think of it, I don’t like you going off with Thorsten Schmid. How am I supposed to cover your back?”
“I’m perfectly capable of defending myself,” Ellen reminded him.
“I’ve no doubt of that; you’re probably better at it than I am. But that’s not the point,” Nick said. “We’re not sure of what they’re capable of. What did he say to you?”
Ellen pulled her legs up under her chin. “He’s not a happy boy, our Thorsten. There’s a lot of hostility and jealousy towards his brother. I suspect he’s lived in his shadow for years.”
“Well I don’t appreciate him inviting my wife out for a private chat either. Well, I wouldn’t if we were really married and I have to play that part.”
“It was a bit strange wasn’t it?” Ellen agreed. “It makes me wonder about this whole importance of the family, babies and the Aryan race. I know this is a bit out there, but did you notice there’s a hell of a lot of flirting going on?”
“Yes. If there was a room available I’m pretty sure I could have gotten laid several times over with the married women there.”
“You don’t think …” Ellen stopped. “No, it’s a bit too out there.”
“That everyone in that room is sharing the love to create a perfect Aryan race? If there’s over two thousand members, that’s a fair gene pool to access,” Nick calculated. “I wonder how many of the women in the top tiers of the organization are pregnant, or are currently mothers and how many children they each have.”
“If we can hack into the organization’s records—and surely Marcus or Samantha can help us do that—we’ll be able to find out a lot more about their identities and birth rates,” Ellen said. She looked at her watch. “We can go in fifteen minutes.”
“Want to get a drink out somewhere?” Nick asked.
“As long as we can eat too,” Ellen said.
“Sure.”
They sat thinking their own thoughts for a few minutes before Nick said, “I think the sooner you get pregnant the better. Because if your hunch about the procreating is right, I suspect Thorsten Schmid is ready to bed you.”
“Ugh.” Ellen put her hands to her ears. “Don’t say that,” she said as she put her hands down. “You’ve wrecked my appetite.”
“You’re talking to me, here,” Nick scoffed. “I’ve seen you watch an autopsy and order a burger after. It would take a lot more than a roll in the hay with Thorsten Schmid to ruin your appetite.”
“Well, I never saw that coming.” Julian Schmid looked over at Benjamin Hoefer who looked every bit his age huddled in the corner of the car’s passenger seat. “A Jew hitting an FBI agent who has come to rescue him in order to finish his work with a Nazi.” Julian laughed.
Benjamin Hoefer pulled himself up in his seat and looked at the younger man opposite him.
“I did nothing for you and will never do anything for a Nazi. I did it for my father,” he said, with anger in his voice.
“Your real father or the only father you’ve ever known?” Julian asked.
“What do you think?” Benjamin answered.
“I think it is a wonderful irony that a Jew has spent his lifetime loving a Nazi,” Julian grinned.
“I don’t believe a word you are saying.” Benjamin looked out the window. He pulled his pale gray jacket tightly around him as he looked at the bleak day outside. Eventually he spoke. “You know what I think is a greater irony?”
“What?” Julian asked.
“That your relative, the elite Nazi serving the Führer, skulked out of his uniform and responsibility and was prepared to live his entire life as a Jew bringing up a Jewish boy because he was a coward and his own self-preservation was more important than returning to his own family.”
“Shut up,” Julian yelled and threw his arm across the car, hitting Benjamin in the face.
Blood poured from Benjamin’s nose. The old man gasped in shock and scrambled in his coat for a handkerchief.
“If you ever say anything like that again, I will kill you before you ever meet your real father,” Julian threatened. “He’s dying, your real father, but if you like, you can beat him to it.”
Mitch woke as Eva placed a mug of tea on the drawers beside his bed.
“How is your head feeling?” she asked.
Mitch looked around. “Where am I?” He took in the pristine white room with virtually no other colors except for a timber frame around a mirror and two cream-colored cushions.
“My place, remember?” she asked.
“It’s so white, I thought I was in another hospital room, a much better one,” Mitch said.
“I like white; it’s clean,” she explained.
“Looks good,” he agreed. “I’m not one for trappings myself.”
She pulled her white dressing gown tighter around her.
“We didn’t …?” he asked, watching her.
“No. You barely knew who you were let alone were in the mood to be sexy.” She laughed a strong guttural laugh.
“Good, I mean, it’s good that I didn’t take advantage of you. I’ll shut up.”
Eva laughed again. Mitch propped himself up and thanked her for the tea. She sat on the end of the bed with her own tea. “You had a bad night I think. Some yelling and lots of turning. Is your head sore?”
He put his tea down and touched the spot where he received the blow from Benjamin Hoefer. “Yes, but no more than to be expected. What’s the time?”
“Just past nine.”
“What?” Mitch sat up suddenly and the pain roared up the back of the neck. He closed his eyes and gripped the side of the bed. “We have to get moving,” he said, keeping his eyes closed. “I have a lead, a convention in Nuremberg we have to follow through, and I’m sure Julian Schmid will be there; but that might mean he gets rid of Benjamin beforehand. I’ve got to get the results of the DNA testing on Benjamin’s father to confirm what the photo in Franz Schmid’s house just told us…and get a report from my team back home … ”
“Mitchell, stop,” Eva interrupted him. “It’s about three in the morning there, so that will have to wait. Let’s get you up and then you can tell me what you know about the convention. Do you want a hand getting up?” she asked. “You could shower here and we can go back to your hotel later.”
“That would save time, thanks. But no, I’ll be right to get up. I just need to check if there’s an email update from John in case any of your people have reported sightings of Julian Schmid and Benjamin overnight or he’s scored any CCTV footage.”
“Fine. I’ll go get dressed. Come out when you are ready,” she said.
Mitch watched her leave and reached for his phone. He waded through his emails and came across an email from Ellen. He read through her update on the meeting and authorized her to get the I.T. department to try and access the NAO’s files and in particular, find the members and their maternity status. He replied to another half a dozen emails and then saw one from Adam. It was advising he would be bringing Astrid back to Germany to be with her parents and would see him in a few days. He fired back a response saying he was glad to hear it and he hoped Astrid was improving.
Mitch sighed, closed his eyes for a minute while he let the nausea pass and made a mental note to get some aspirin. He resumed his emails and saw a note from John to call him regardless of the hour. He thought about it and decided a few more hours wouldn’t make a big difference; he’d call John after six and let him sleep. He slowly rose, and headed to the bathroom. Invading Eva’s bathroom drawers he found some aspirin and downed several before hitting the shower.