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he wanted to discuss an investment proposal. The guard made a call and told Raven to wait. He found a black leather seat in the corner and sat with his back to the wall.

A tall man in a dark suit and black-framed glasses found him there.

“Mr. Cooper?”

Raven had used his cover name of Isaac Cooper. He stood, smiling, extending a hand. “Yes. Who might you be?”

“I am Sebastian Speidel, special assistant to Mr. Schrader.”

“I didn’t realize I’d get the royal treatment.”

“We will talk here. My job is to make sure you meet our qualifications. If you do not, we go no further.”

Raven put his hands in his pockets. “Sure.”

“You’re American?”

“Yes.”

“Why are you in Germany?”

“My business partner and I want to expand into the European market. We make custom musical instruments. High-end guitars.”

“Uh-huh.”

“We’ve picked up several endorsements already in the States, and we’re negotiating with members of Ramstein to use our equipment.”

“Who?”

“Ramstein. One of the biggest heavy metal bands in your country. I thought everybody in Germany knew of them.”

“No.”

Raven laughed. “Of course. My mistake.”

“Mr. Cooper, we do not work with companies who generate less than one million dollars.”

Raven blinked. “Oh. Well. No problem there. When I say high-end guitars, I mean equipment with a starting price of five thousand US.”

“Surely you cannot generate one million a year selling guitars.”

“I can prove it, of course.”

“You have sales records with you?”

“At my hotel. If you’d like to schedule a formal meeting, I’d be happy to provide details.”

“Very interesting. What sort of investment help would you be looking for?”

“I don’t want to talk numbers here in your lobby, Mr. Speidel. We have a modest proposal I’m sure your company will appreciate.”

“Hmmm. Well, I will have to discuss this with Mr. Schrader. I have a feeling you will be too small for us, no matter your gross sales numbers.”

Raven shrugged. “German musicians will like our products.”

“Who did you say you represent again?”

“I didn’t actually. Cooper Instruments. We have a web page. Cooper Instruments Dot Com.”

“Of course.” Speidel smiled. “We will research and get back with you.”

Raven pulled out his wallet and made a show of looking inside. He sighed with a shake of his head. “I’m out of business cards.”

Speidel only smiled.

“I’m staying at the Radisson Blu,” Raven said. “I’m not hard to find.”

The two men shook hands again and Raven left the lobby. He didn’t look back to see if Speidel was watching him. Raven had no doubt he was.

Sebastian Speidel entered the office of Schrader’s secretary. He said nothing to the woman and knocked twice on Schrader’s door before stepping inside.

Schrader did not look up from his paperwork. He held a gold fountain pen and scratched his signature on several sheets.

“What is it, Sebastian?”

“Sam Raven just paid us a visit, Mr. Schrader. The picture Tanya sent us was accurate.”

Schrader scribbled his name on another sheet of paper, set it aside, and signed another. “And?”

“He’s staying at the Radisson Blu.”

“Good. Kill him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Speidel left the office.

7

Raven figured on a direct approach to Hannah Schrader but not in public.

Not with her under surveillance.

The two goons who followed her from work to a bar wore pressed gray suits. They fit well with the rest of the bar’s happy hour clientele. Hannah didn’t notice their presence. Or was she used to them being there?

She met two girlfriends at a small hotel bar. It sat off the lobby, tempting new arrivals as they headed for the elevators. The décor wasn’t fancy. The mirrored walls made a futile attempt at making the place look bigger than it was. Muted televisions screens on two walls played either news programs or sports.

Raven took a seat in a back corner and read a newspaper. There weren’t many patrons, so he had a decent view of Hannah, her friends, and the goons who watched her.

Hannah Schrader wore a typical skirt-and-blouse combo. She’d removed her heels after sitting down, and the shoes rested beside her chair. She sat with her elbows on the table, leaning toward her friends, her nyloned feet on the floor. Hannah’s bright blonde hair matched one of the other girls. The third member of their trio was a brunette who wore her hair very short.

The brunette apologized for insisting on the hotel instead of their usual bar. She didn’t want to “see you-know-who tonight”. Hannah and the other blonde didn’t mind. Hannah exclaimed, “Alcohol is alcohol!” as the waiter brought their drinks. Hannah was a whiskey drinker. The waiter placed a double in front of her.

The brunette ordered fried mozzarella poppers before the waiter departed. Raven cringed. Fried cheese? It wasn’t a worthwhile snack at any time of day.

Her two minders glanced at her from time to time but didn’t make the effort obvious. They kept up an animated conversation with a running commentary on the sports program.

He sat with his paper and martini and waited.

He needed Hannah alone for his approach to work. Would the goons hang around?

Hannah Schrader eased her car through the automatic gate. She parked in a spot with her apartment number on a post. Raven lost sight of her as she crossed the parking lot to a connecting gate. She’d travel through the courtyard to her place in the complex.

The answer to the question about the goons came fast. They followed her home, taking the turn before the complex and driving off. No need to watch her when she was at home, Raven supposed.

He still didn’t know if the surveillance was routine or new. Was Hugo having her followed in case the CIA came calling about her sister?

Raven left the rented Audi parked on the street and entered the complex through the lobby. Stepping out onto the courtyard, he found a bench. He sat with a view of Hannah’s third-floor balcony. The light snapped on behind the glass balcony doors.

He leaned back on the bench with crossed legs and stretched his right arm along the back edge. The courtyard, shielded from the street by the buildings, was quiet. Nearby

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