Page 44 of Need to Know

Sorry to leave you in the lurch. I remembered some things from last night and if what I remembered is true, this is all on me. I don’t want to put you in danger again. I’ll sort everything. Stay put. See you later. X

I read it again, and yes, I’d understood the message alright! “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” I exclaimed out loud. Angrily, I rose from my chair and paced into the lounge. If I was reading this right, Nate regained memories of what happened on the ship. For some reason he believed our incarceration was his fault…his responsibility. I didn’t understand how that could be the case. Nate told me he’d never visited Berlin before and didn’t know anyone in Germany. Reading between the lines, he’d gone into the city to do some sleuthing on his own…without me…alone. I couldn’t help but feel a little…hurt. I’d thought we were a team. Had he even considered that the men who’d abducted us hadn’t found what they wanted and they were still out there! A dart of fear hit me in the solar plexus. What the fuck had he done? In an instant I realized my fear was not for me, but for Nate. Shit…shit…This wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d told myself this was a fling, but I was feeling things…all the things…anger, worry, longing, and an all-powerful desire to have Nate safely in my arms. I cared more for Nate’s safety than I did for my own. I’d fallen arse-over-tit in-love and he’d gone, leaving me like I was irrelevant, and useless. I supposed then that he didn’t feel the same for me, and, duh, of course he didn’t. Nate was still processing the end of his marriage and his impending divorce. I was such a bloody fool!

Pacing the lounge, riled up, dejected, and ready to give him an earful for walking out on me, I called Nate’s number, but his phone didn’t even go to voicemail, it was dead. Weird. That didn’t leave me many options to expend the energy bubbling in my blood. I’m a proactive guy, I needed to do SOMETHING! There were two chances of me sitting here and waiting for Nate to return—zero and none! I could go to the hotel gym, or I could call one of the friends I’d invited to the première—Nina was always around, maybe Marek would meet me to take walk into the city or…I could go sleuthing too! Yes, two can play at that game. I knew this city better than Nate, and I had particular skills!

Everything we’d gone through in the past twenty-four-hours began with meeting Hugh Jorgen. I had the photographic proof of it on my phone. He’d trailed us in the park, and then to the club. Jorgen was followed by a couple of men and he hadn’t seemed to realize. Nate said that the Swede was a delegate at the security tech conference at the event centre on the far side of Pariser Platz. I slumped onto the couch and searched on my phone browser for the conference’s daily agenda. The event was on for three days and this was the second day. Over a hundred tech companies were exhibiting their new products. This was a place where state-of-the-art security tech was showcased and billion-dollar deals would be struck. The schedule said there would be speeches from government representatives, security advisors, and military analysts from all over the world, as well as tech high-flyers with connections and more money than sense. The keynote speech on the final day was to be by Oliver Roux, the multi-billionaire tech entrepreneur who had bullied his way into the public consciousness with technological breakthroughs, like the ORIGN mobile satellite launch pad, which was lauded for aiding global communication, while detractors said it also caused the Earth’s atmosphere to become a tech junkyard. Personally, I couldn’t stand the guy!

It would soon be lunchtime. Everyone had to stop for lunch, right? I needed to find out which tech company Hugh Jorgen worked for, and, if they dealt with Chinese chip technology it would mean he was directly involved with industrial espionage. I might also discover which hotel he’d moved to or even his contact details.

I pulled up the map app on my phone and zoomed in to see the layout of the huge Pariser Platz district. To the left of Adler Kandinski hotel was the Academy of the Arts, and then curiously, on the far-left corner of the square was the US Embassy. Opposite the US Embassy across the square was the Axica Conference Centre–the venue for the conference. The bird’s eye view map showed the building, and from above there was a glass rotunda roof. The street view front elevation faced the square. I continued searching through the event website and venue images. Tech companies were exhibiting in glass walled rooms off the mezzanine and speeches were in the main rotunda hall. There was a bar and restaurant facility, so there would be extra wait staff employed temporarily for this large event. To pay my bills in my late teens and early twenties I’d needed to wait tables, work as a barman, and as a barista. The event website told me the caterers for the event were called Palace Catering and their manager was Artur Springer. If I could blag my way into the event as a waiter then maybe I could make my way to the organizers offices to find the Intel I needed? I smiled privately. This mission would be a piece of piss!

****

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Nate

I stood in the long, winding queue at the US Embassy across the square from our hotel. The huge marble lobby hosted a whole lot of stressed Americans who were waiting for help with visa and other issues. The queue moved at a snail’s pace and the frustration rolling off the people around me was palpable. I’d left Jack in bed, asleep; looking so delightfully fuckable it had pained me to walk away. But who the hell were we kidding? This mess was too complicated for us to sort out on our own. We weren’t spies; we were actors who played spies. I couldn’t risk Jack’s life to untangle this mystery and find out if what I’d dreamt had any bearing on reality. And so, I’d taken a ticket and my place in the snaking queue in order to talk to a representative at the US Embassy and get some advice.

It didn’t take long for curious looks to come my way—after all, my face was on posters all over the city! I was relieved that the Marine Security Guards on the door made everyone turn their phones off before they were allowed inside the building, because my photo would have been on tabloid websites long before I reached the counter. Along with the whispers and looks from others in the queue, I’d caught the attention of one of the U.S. Marine Guards who was part of the on-floor security detail. He eyeballed me before speaking into a mic on his uniform. A wave of paranoia and nerves hit me then. There was no way I wanted to get the attention of the Marine and cause a commotion in front of the hundred or so people in the queue. I looked straight ahead and counted my breaths to calm the hell down. My thoughts wandered to Jack, and how life affirming our shower sex had been, and then I felt like a shit for leaving him in bed when we’d agreed to remain in the suite together.

“Excuse me sir,” the voice seemed to have come from the deepest darkest hole. I turned to find I was face-to-chest with the tall African American Marine towering over me. I was over six foot, and he was taller than me! I looked up and met his steely, coal-eyed gaze. “Hi,” I said nervously.

“Can I see your identification, sir?”

I started to sweat then. I’m an American citizen, damn it! I’d done nothing wrong. I pulled my passport out of my back pocket and presented it. The guard flicked through it, looked at my ID page, then his eyes set on me, comparing the photo to me in the flesh. He closed my passport and handed it back to me. I took it with sweaty fingers and pushed it into the back pocket of my jeans. “Please accompany me, sir,” he said flatly. It was an order, not a request. The people around me in the queue turned and began to gawk.

“Quick as you can sir, I imagine you don’t want any…negative attention,” the Marine added. I nodded weakly, and then ducked under the rope. I expected the Marine to grab my arm, restrain me in some way. But he didn’t. As the armed Marine strode across the wide lobby, he sent curt nods to his comrades on duty. I followed submissively behind him; clueless as to why I was being detained, but it wouldn’t be the first time someone was detained for no just cause! I glanced around, considering my exits, wondering how I could make my escape, but then I reminded myself you’re an actor, not a spy, dumb ass! I wondered if I’d get a chance to turn on my phone and call my lawyer in New York so they could arrange legal representation for me here.

The Marine led me across the wide foyer to an unmarked door. Using an ID card attached to his belt he pressed it to a card reader. The door opened and I followed him into a hallway. The sound of the door closing behind me felt potent. I was led down another hallway into a…what the hell? I was in a break room where three Marines were sitting around a square table having lunch and shooting the breeze.

“Tank, you owe me twenty bucks!” the huge African American guard said as he entered the break room with me at his back.

“Gaddamn, it is you! Nate fuckin’ Linden!” the other Marine said his tone amazed as he pushed his chair back, stood, and offered me his big meaty hand. “Put it here my man!” Mechanically, I shook his hand feeling a little stunned.

“My wife Audrey is gonna piss her little panties when I tell her I met you, we love Cracksman. We’re gonna see your new movie for a date night.” I’d feared the worst, so remained silent. “What the hell are you doin’ here?” the Marine asked a bright smile on his face. This was surreal. I’d convinced myself I was in trouble. The four Marines gave one another communicative looks.

“Dashelle Sinner,” the Marine who’d brought me back here said as he held his hand out to be shaken. The other guards stood, “Hazel Lewis,” the second Marine said. “Drake Jenkins,” the third introduced, “And I’m Andre Tankarian, the guys call me Tank,” the fourth marine stated. He was a barrel chested, sallow skinned man. He had close cropped blond hair, blue eyes, and a kind face.

“Don’t let these knuckleheads intimidate you. Pull up a chair, hang for a few.” I shook each of their hands, pulled out a chair and sat.

“Would you like anything to drink? The coffee’s pretty good, and the pastries! We’re in Germany…they have the best bakeries here,” Tank stated.

“Don’t you go sayin’ that in front of my momma,” Sinner declared, “Her New Orleans bake house is the bomb!”

“Tank’s sampled something at every bakery we’ve found in Berlin, he’s a…connoisseur,” Drake ribbed, patting his buddy’s stomach.

“Heyyyy, get yo hands off mah food baby, he’s very sensitive,” Tank cajoled.

Hazel Lewis stood, went to the counter, and poured a cup of coffee, and then she put a Berliner donut on a paper plate. She brought them to the table for me, and then put the creamer and sugar pots in front of me.

“What you doin’ here? You got a passport or visa problem?” Tank asked.

“No, I’m just looking for some advice.” I said as I swiftly doctored my coffee. I took a sip; it was surprisingly good! “Maybe you guys could help?”

“Sure, we’ll do what we can,” Tank grinned. I could tell he was the easy-going one of the bunch.

“There’s an international office for the FBI in Berlin, yeah? I couldn’t find the details on Google. How do I get in touch with them?”