Page 39 of Sigma

A short pause from Anselm. “That’s all?”

“So far.”

“This is not your phone, and being monitored, I assume.”

“Correct.”

Another silence, this one longer. “Are you okay?”

“So far.”

He clears his throat. “Location?”

I hand the phone to the man beside me. “He needs to know the drop-off location.”

The man takes the phone and rattles off a set of coordinates, rather than an address, then hands the phone back to me. “Das Ende. Nothing funny,ja?”

“Anselm?”

“Ja, Kyrie. I am here.”

“I need you to be safe, you feel me?”

A pause; this is a prearranged verbal code. “Understood. See you soon.”

The code means extreme danger. That it’s a suspected trap, essentially.

I end the call and pass the phone back. “Now what?”

The man pockets the device, stands up. “Now we go.”

“When do I get my daughter back?”

Back through the empty office building to the elevator, now accompanied by all three men. The Mercedes is still waiting; another long, circuitous drive across Berlin.

My heart hammers. I can’t just sit here, can’t just do nothing. Ten million dollars is nothing to Valentine and me, and surely this person knows that.

The life you ruined.

This is definitely personal.

* * *

It’sdifficult to maintain a state of readiness and heightened awareness indefinitely. It’s exhausting. But I can feel the moment approaching. I sense it in the air, feel it in my bones.

We end up in another part of Berlin, this one much seedier, far less savory. A service drive under a massive overpass exchange, parked, idling.

“Now we wait,” the man says. He’s in the car beside me. There’s the driver, and another car with the other two guards or soldiers or whatever.

An hour passes. I have no idea how long it will take Anselm to get here, to acquire the money and figure out a plan. Tension leaves me nauseated.

“I have to pee,” I say.

He huffs, gestures out the window. “As you see, there is no toilet here.”

I press my thighs together; this isn’t an act. But it is an opportunity. Maybe. I just know I can’t keep sitting around and waiting. I just hope I’m doing the right thing.

“Do you have a napkin? I can just go behind one of the pillars over there.” I shrug. “I’ve got to go. I thought I could wait, but I can’t.”