Stone's Justice

By D.L. Brumley

A splendid rendition of the classic good versus evil adventure in which reality reveals that the good guys don’t always win. Chief Warrant Officer Zack Stone, a DIA and Special Ops Command asset, has been sent by the Central Intelligence Agency to Berlin, Germany, to assassinate the German minister of defense. The German Federal Intelligence Service (FIS) forces one of the flight attendants working the Washington, DC, to Berlin flight to drug Zack, rendering him ineffective at defending himself upon arrival. Zack and the U.S. Army attaché to Berlin are taken captive by agents of the Kommando Spezialkräfte and brought to Gen. Erik Kruger’s country home outside Berlin. Convinced by the general that he is being set up, Zack and the colonel teamed up to investigate and bring to an end the kill order against him.

Along the way, Zack and Colonel Good are under constant attack, not only by the CIA but also by a group calling themselves the New Order of Nazis, led by Dieter Bayer, a close associate of the German chancellor. This group are hell-bent on taking over the government of Germany with Chancellor Deidre Dallenbach as their leader or eliminating her during the process. They hire a professional assassin from Argentina, grandson of a real Nazi during Hitler’s days, to kill Zack after he interfered and prevented an assassination of the chancellor.

Schizophrenic psychopath Charles Mason, former CIA infiltration team member with Colonel Good and Zack’s father, Bart Stone, is dead set on taking out both Zack and the colonel. The two were instrumental in breaking up a lucrative scam by the chief of CIA’s Special Activities Division, the Berlin chief of station, and Mason, bilking the U.S. government out of millions of dollars. After former SOC asset Vince Carmichael leads a hit squad that assassinates Colonel Good and his wife, Maddy, in Berlin, a final showdown between former SEAL team members, led by Carmichael, and Zack’s adopted family takes place in southeast Colorado near Colonel Good’s Three Oaks Ranch.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Feb 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664157668

D.L. Brumley

Born in 1948, D.L. Brumley is the grandson of Oklahoma farmers who left their homes during the early 1940s, seeking opportunities for a better life in California. His father was one of seven children of John and Ada Brumley, all born before and raised during the Great Depression. You will note with some humor the country aspects of his writing. Raised by hard working country folks, Mr. Brumley’s work ethic of nose to the grindstone is evident in not only his story telling, but in how his characters interact throughout this, his second book. After successful careers as an intelligence support officer in both the U.S. Army and with the U.S. Government spanning 43 years, he retired in 2013. Mr. Brumley is a veteran of the Viet Nam Conflict having served there in 1968-69. Later, as a USG employee, he served in Iraq early in that conflict in 2003. Having lived, worked, and traveled to multiple countries around the world, Mr. Brumley draws on those experiences to make his book more realistic to the reader. His second book, Stone’s Way, is the continuation of the Zack Stone series of stories. For those who have traveled and lived overseas, his writing will take many back in time to memories and experiences of their own. For those not fortunate enough to have traveled or lived overseas, Stone’s Way will take you on a visit to the small island country of Bahrain, sandwiched between Saudi Arabia to the east and Qatar to the west.

Book preview

Stone’s Justice

D.L. BRUMLEY

Copyright © 2021 by D.L. Brumley.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 02/17/2021

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

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Contents

Acknowledgments

Author’s Comments

List of Characters

Prologue

Chapter 1 Arrival

Chapter 2 Meeting the Target

Chapter 3 Ambush on A2

Chapter 4 Assassin’s Shot

Chapter 5 Assassin’s Trap

Chapter 6 Up Too Close and Personal

Chapter 7 Station Gone Bad

Chapter 8 Evidence Tampering

Chapter 9 Killer Finds a Target

Chapter 10 Death of a Friend

Chapter 11 First Man Down

Chapter 12 Good Ideas

Chapter 13 Payback

Chapter 14 The Party Is Over

Chapter 15 A Spirit Speaks

Chapter 16 Fun with the DC Boys

Chapter 17 Homecoming

Then Jesus said to him, put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword.

—Matthew 26:52

Acknowledgments

A big thank-you to aircraft makers, airlines, weapons makers, ammunition makers, companies whose gear I mention, vehicle manufacturers, all those industries, and all the intelligence agencies and other government entities. It was not ever my intention to denigrate your products, your company name, or your agency in any way. As the story flowed from my imagination, I used your products, companies, and agencies only as tools for a better written book.

Author’s Comments

This is my first book. I have developed it like it was my child. I have always wanted to write and finally found myself in the perfect situation to do so. I have retired from a long working life with both the U.S. Army and the U.S. government and no longer have to deal with the multitude of issues associated with those careers. A lot of the stories in the book are based on my personal experiences in those careers while others are based on people I know who have shared their experiences with me. And to set the record straight, some are totally fictional and a figment of my overactive imagination.

As I was writing this story, I found myself feeling the emotions of my characters. The experience often overwhelmed me. I laughed, cried, got angry, and felt love, disgust, and cheated, even felt pain. I hope the reader can feel those emotions as they read the book. I think, though, that my ability to put emotion on paper may have come up just a bit short, but it wasn’t for the lack of effort. If you feel anything close to what I have felt, then I have accomplished what I set out to do.

Last, I apologize to my family for some of the risqué scenes in the book and to any of my family or friends who identify so much with a character that they think it is them I am writing about. I assure you it is not.

List of Characters

Chief Warrant Officer Zachary Bartholomew Zack Stone: Special ops asset and DIA clandestine case officer on permanent joint assignment to United States Special Operations Command (USSOCOM). Graduate of the John F. Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Graduate of the CIA’s special agent school at Camp Peary, Virginia. Firearms expert, ordnance expert, expert marksman, sniper, former security operations center (SOC) team member, black belt in Krav Maga, tae kwon do, karate, and aikido. Speaks French and passable German. Son of former U.S. Army master sergeant Bartholomew Armand Stone, a CIA-controlled infiltration operator, now deceased, and Mary Ann Stone of Rowlett, Texas.

Col. John James Jimmy Good: Special ops asset, DIA clandestine case officer on permanent joint assignment to USSOCOM, former CIA-controlled infiltration operator, current U.S. Army attaché assigned to the Defense Attaché Office, American Embassy, Berlin, Germany. Former instructor of team tactics at the Kennedy Special Warfare Center and School, Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Longtime friend of Bart Stone, now deceased. Godfather and mentor to Chief Warrant Officer Zack Stone. Husband of Matilda Maddy Good and father of daughters Vera Mae and Patricia Prissy Good.

Anna Cooper/Anja Fassbinder: Flight attendant for a major German-owned airline. Moved from Germany to the United States and changed her name from Anja Fassbinder to Anna Cooper. Forced by the German Federal Intelligence Service to spike the drink of Zack Stone with ketamine to confuse and disorient him on a flight to Berlin. Became friends and then lovers with Zack Stone. Daughter of Lukas Fassbinder and Gilda Fassbinder and sister of Dr. Christof Fassbinder. Aunt Helga lives in Berlin, Germany.

Bernhard Stoltz: Agent of the German Federal Intelligence Service and personal bodyguard of Chancellor Deidre Dallenbach. Bad guy turned good. Special-ops-trained assassin. Holds black belts in multiple forms of martial arts, including Krav Maga. Explosive ordnance expert, weapons expert, sniper qualified. Master’s degree in computer science from the Technical University of Berlin and a linguistics specialist who speaks Russian, English, French, Mandarin, and Polish at the native speaker level as well as his native German. No known living family, orphaned as a child. Lovers with Teresa Zimmerman.

Teresa Zimmerman: Flight attendant for a major German airline. Part-time employee of the Federal Intelligence Service for specific assignments. Daughter of retired German diplomats, Viktor and Sonja Zimmerman. Mother of ten-year-old son, Johan, currently living with her parents in Augsburg, Germany. Lovers with Bernhard Stoltz.

Chancellor Deidre Dallenbach: Current chancellor of Germany, elected by unanimous vote of the German people. Leader of the Christian Democratic Union and supported by both Dieter Bayer and Gen. Erik Kruger. Swept to victory almost two years earlier. Unmarried, no children. The only daughter and eldest child of Kraig and Geschatzt Dallenbach. Father founded Dallenbach Brewery AG. Two brothers, Karl and Manfred Dallenbach. Doctorate degree in modern sociology and a master’s degree in political science from Heidelberg University.

Gen. Erik Kruger: Minister of defense (Verteidigungsminister). Commanding general of the special forces (Kommando Spezialkräfte). Friend, confidante, and political supporter of Chancellor Dallenbach. Independently wealthy as heir of the Kruger Bergbaufirma AG. Widower of Helena Featherstone-Kruger, originally from Cardiff, Wales. Father of Fredrika Kruger-Lehman. Managing director and part owner of Kruger Bergbaufirma AG.

Dieter Bayer: Assumed nonpolitical friend and adviser of Chancellor Deidre Dallenbach. Distant cousin of the founder of the pharmaceutical giant Bayer AG, Friedrich Bayer. Reported to be worth several million euros. Heavily invested in the German steel. Primary owner of Zusammengelegt AG with sixty Percent controlling interest.

Charles Mason/Dusty Johnson: Former army/CIA infiltration team member. Thought killed in Laos in 1992, faked death, and formed a team with Carl McNally/Brett Donavan and Chad Daily to embezzle millions from the U.S. government. Brutal psychopath hell-bent on killing both Zack Stone and his lover, Anna Cooper/Anja Fassbinder, and Col. Jimmy Good and his family for putting his team of thieves out of business. Eventually becomes lovers with Willa Achenbach, a Berlin lady of the night.

Carl McNally/Brett Donavan: Station chief, American Embassy, Berlin, Germany. Former U.S. Army sergeant, working as a CIA counterintelligence officer and infiltration team operative. Left the military and resurfaced with a new face and new name, Brett Donavan. Part of a three-man operation to bilk the CIA and other U.S. agencies of millions of dollars.

Chad Daily: Chief of the CIA Special Activities Division (SAD). Third member of the embezzlement team set up by Charles Mason. Ran interference for Donavan, ensuring unfettered access to confidential money sources. Married, with two sons. Committed suicide when the team was taken down by investigators.

Todd Billingham: Station deputy chief, American Embassy, Berlin. Ten-year employee of the CIA, dissatisfied with his current position of paper pusher and errand boy for the station chief. Has applied multiple times for a kill team with the Special Activities Division. Former high school football star, standing 6’6" tall, weighing 280 lbs.

Kit Wilson: Secretary for Brett Donavan. Lovers with Donavan. Key witness in discovery of on-station files that cleared Colonel Good and Zack Stone of any connection with the embezzlement team.

Jakob Fitzmiller: Personal assistant to Chancellor Dallenbach. Not known until his death, a radical right-wing member of a loosely organized group founded in Berlin, Germany, calling themselves the New Order of Nazis (Neue Ordnung der Nazis). One of three radicals who tried to assassinate Chancellor Dallenbach.

Ernst Lange: Chief of Gen. Erik Kruger’s security detail. Major in the German special forces (Kommando Spezialkräfte). Trained in martial arts, sniper operations, marksmanship, and VIP protection. Former Olympic weight-lifting gold medalist.

Bruno Schneider: Senior sergeant with the German special forces and member of Gen. Erik Kruger’s security detail.

Eldrine Bohne: Argentine sniper hired by Dieter Bayer’s Nazi group to assassinate Zack Stone and others. Great-grandson of Hitler henchman Gerhard Bohne, who purportedly was responsible for the deaths of tens of thousands of handicapped and mentally ill people to make the Aryan race purer.

Denny Cravens: Replaced Chad Daily as director of SAD. Continues to target Zack Stone for the incriminating evidence he possesses that names SAD as a corrupt part of CIA.

Arthur Wiccolla: Assistant director of Special Activities Division. Idea man for Denny Cravens’s desire to eliminate those who can name SAD as corrupt.

Helen Zwiebel: On-again-off-again lover of Zack Stone. A sexual free spirit. Ten years older than Zack.

Vince Carmichael: Retired U.S. Army and USSOCOM asset. Sent to Berlin, Germany, by his masters from the CIA to eliminate Zack Stone. A hand-to-hand fight between the two leaving both men broken and bloody. Hard case operator who kills on order. Puts together a team of top former SEAL team members to chase down and kill Zack Stone and anyone who gets in their way after the attempt against Zack in Berlin.

Prologue

Zack had been on target at the rifle range that Friday, with 148 hits out of 150 shots taken. That included an amazing 18 of 20 shots taken at 1,500 meters. He had used his new Winchester Model 70 .300 Win. Mag. sniper rifle complete with a Nightforce NXS 8-32 × 56 scope. It seemed to almost increase the size of the targets, making them much easier to hit. Of course, the purpose of a scope is to bring your target closer; but that day, it seemed to Zack as if he could almost reach out and touch the targets with his hand.

The NCOs at range 01A were shaking their heads in amazement at Zack’s accuracy. He had bettered his own previous post record by exactly 1 hit. To have one day at the range like he had was in itself quite a feat. But Zack Stone’s name was etched in the leader’s plaque in the top three spots—148, 147, and 145. There were eight people tied for fourth at 144, including Zack again. The legendary U.S. Army marksman Benjamin Cleland, who held the all-time service record of 80 hits in 80 shots with a service weapon, an M4, held the long-distance record at 144 for over two years. He had used a .300 Winchester Magnum M24 with McMillan stocks and customized barrels. Several newbies to special ops tied his long-standing record with 144.

Zack had packed up his weapon and was about to head back to the arms room when his cell buzzed in its holster. It was Major Joe’s clerk calling to advise Zack that the major wanted him to report to the battalion HQ. On my way, Corporal.

A third of the way around the world, Germany chancellor Deidre Dallenbach was having political difficulties with a powerful block of politicians in the Bundestag. Under threat of not supporting her political agenda, they had forced her to put out a kill order on Gen. Erik Kruger, the German minister of defense. They were now trying to get the CIA involved in issuing a similar kill order and then sending their best assassin to do the job. She immediately began putting in place a plan that would protect General Kruger from assassination. This protection depended heavily on a single agent from the German Federal Intelligence Service.

On the same day, Dieter Bayer—nonpolitical adviser to Chancellor Dallenbach and one of the leaders of the New Order of Nazis—was meeting with powerful men and women who were backing his movement. These men and women were rich, powerful, politically connected businesspeople with the means and ways to back such a movement. Others were ranking members of the military, government officials, bankers, and financiers, all with the same goal—restore Germany to its rightful place as leader of the European Union and beyond.

Stone, come on in. Major Joe was the battalion commander as a major, something almost never heard of.

Yes, sir.

Orders for you, Stone. CIA wants your ass in Berlin yesterday, high-value target. Report to S2 for a full briefing. Departure Sunday night. Got it, Mr. Stone?

I’m all over it, Major.

Good luck and stop being such a smart-ass for once in your life. Major Joe smiled.

Col. Jimmy Good was not happy with the news that he had just received from Langley. His godson Zack Stone had been given orders to eliminate a high-value target in Berlin. Colonel Good, as the army attaché in Berlin, as well as a DIA and Special Operations Command (SOC) asset, was always notified when a target in his area of operations (AO) was identified for elimination. The station chief, Brett Donavan, had delivered the news to the colonel with an almost gleeful snarl on his face. He knew the relationship between the two, and he had not revealed all the information that was his privilege to know. Chief Warrant Officer Zack Stone had been targeted himself.

Chapter One

Arrival

After a somewhat bumpy ride across the Atlantic, the pilots had made a perfect landing at Berlin-Tegel Airport, the ILS being conducted with professional precision. The primary flight display helped line the aircraft at the center of the runway and descend onto it on a uniform glide angle of three degrees. Smooth as a baby’s rear end, some pilots called it. Captain Gerard and Copilot Ballard smiled at each other and then slapped a high five for the perfect landing. Even as experienced as these two pilots were in numbers of flight hours, it was always a good feeling to land and be back on the ground.

As the Lufthansa Airbus A380 taxied toward its arrival gate, Chief Warrant Officer Zachary Bartholomew Stone took a deep breath as he looked out the window. He had been very uncomfortable for the last hour or so, unable to clear his mind of trivial and unimportant thoughts. He was still annoyed with his parents for christening him with such a ridiculous name. His entire prepubescent existence had been filled with merciless teasing and ridicule by his peers. Names like Z-Bart and Zack the Hack were thrown at him continuously, and more than once, he had scrapped with his tormentors. Adolescence had not changed things, and now into adulthood, he still received the occasional barb or two from friends and colleagues. Damn, he thought, it sure would have been much easier with a name like Joe Smith. At least I would have had fewer fat lips, black eyes, and scraped knees. He chuckled a bit about his anxiety over something as ordinary as his name. He was, in fact, named after his grandfather and father.

What the heck is wrong with me? This silliness about his name was a bit unsettling. But it had taken control of his thoughts, and it seemed the only thing that he could focus on. Damn, he said to himself, this is not a good time for distractions. The U.S. Army Special Operations Command school definition of focus was a state of mind that has positive effects on any mission. The opposite of being focused was not an option. Confusion, too, was not a good thing in his line of work. One needed nerves of steel and complete control over issues that may be the difference between success and failure or between life and death. He fought through the fog in his mind to regrasp the fact that his current assignment was the biggest fish that he had ever been asked to fry. To get confused and lose focus in the midst of such an assignment just might get him killed.

In spite of the confusion and the lack of concentration, he willed himself to clear his mind of unimportant details. This allowed him to bring a modicum of focus back on his mission, although clarity of thought was lacking. In the back of his mind, he felt that something wasn’t quite right about this whole thing. Germany is one of the United States’ most trusted allies. Why would he be sent to eliminate the minister of defense of an ally? But he had his orders.

Probing into the whys of an op could cause hesitation, not a good thing when you are about to kill someone. Your kill should be righteous, your motives pure, your mind focused on the task at hand. The whys and why-nots were someone else’s problem.

The aircraft came to a stop at the gate, and passengers began to file out. But Zack had zoned back out and remained seated, not aware that the plane was emptying out. His effort to concentrate did not allow him to focus on anything other than his current thought. It was like climbing a hill in four-wheel drive, only to have the clutch go out. You could apply the brake to keep from rolling backward, but you couldn’t move forward. He was lost in a fog that never seemed to end. A few moments of clarity came but seem to disappear almost immediately.

Fifteen minutes later, he felt a touch on his shoulder. In spite of the fogginess, he immediately turned and grabbed an arm without even seeing it, instinct burned into his physical and mental reflexes. Those mental reflexes brought about his need to get his mind around what was going on. And because he couldn’t, his instincts had taken over, the instinct being to protect himself.

Excuse me, sir, came a voice through the fog. At the other end of the arm stood a flight attendant. She was frightened.

She managed to stammer out, S-sir, please exit the aircraft. We have docked at the gate.

Zack looked around the aircraft cabin and noticed that it was empty of passengers. Where in the hell did everyone go? he thought.

To the flight attendant, he said, Wow, I was so deep in thought I didn’t see anyone leaving the aircraft. He let go of her arm. My apologies. I sincerely hope that I didn’t hurt you.

It’s okay, Mr. Stone. I was just notified on the rear galley phone that someone is waiting for you at the exit door, a Colonel Good. I didn’t even realize you were still in the aircraft until the captain called. You may not realize it, sir, but the plane emptied out twenty minutes ago. She smiled and said, That must have been quite a thought you were having.

Zack recoiled at the use of his name but quickly realized she had access to a copy of the flight manifest and had simply looked up the person assigned to his seat, 76H. Zack smiled and nodded in answer.

Not to worry, sir, she stated with a smile. This guy is really acting weird. Are you here on business or pleasure?

He hesitated, trying to remember, and then said, Business.

Ah, I see. Well, my name is Anna Cooper, a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Stone.

Likewise, Ms. Cooper.

I will be spending another three days here on layover and then working a return flight to Washington, DC. I will be staying at the Mercure Berlin Wittenbergplatz Hotel. If you get some free time from your business, perhaps we can have coffee together one morning while I am here. She smiled and gave Zack a friendly wink. He might be acting a little weird, but he sure is cute.

It is very nice to meet you. Tell you what. If I can tear myself away from the, uh, the, uh, embassy during the next three days, I would be happy to have coffee with you. I’ll call your hotel and leave a message if I can, okay?

Stone, you in here? came the loud demand from the front of the plane. I haven’t got all day, son. Can we get started for the embassy sometime today?

Zack looked up at the flight attendant grinning, and she laughed as he said, Guess I better be going. Daddy’s calling. Present for duty, Colonel. I will be forward in just one minute.

Let’s get going, Mr. Stone. I have a meeting with General Kruger in one hour.

Ah, that’s it, he said to himself. He was here for General Kruger. The sound of the colonel’s voice seemed to clear up some of his confusion. Familiarity can do that. Damn, why in the world can’t I focus?

Then suddenly, his clarity returned. He now remembered that he had been fully briefed on Maj. Gen. Erik Kruger, the Verteidigungsminister (minister of defense) and his primary target on this visit. Kruger was probably the most powerful man in the entire German military and political structure other than the chancellor herself. Some said he carried more clout than even the German president, Horst Steinmeier. Zack thought, How do I take out a man like Kruger? He will be guarded by a host of the very best Kommando Spezialkräfte operators, the top special operations soldiers in Europe or at least a close second to the British special forces. Possibly, with my Winchester Model 70 .300 Win. Mag. sniper rifle. I couldn’t possibly miss with my new scope attached. His new scope was one of the best made, a Nightforce NXS 8-32 × 56. But his weapons and equipment wouldn’t be in Berlin for another three days via the embassy’s diplomatic pouch.

Before departure, Zack had been told that the leader of the Kommando Spezialkräfte (KSK) had a propensity to lean far to the right politically speaking. Several months ago, the German Federal Criminal Police had uncovered a plot involving some KSK soldiers to murder prominent German politicians and carry out operations against immigrants living in Germany. In fact, one of the battalions of the KSK had been disbanded. Perhaps this little nugget was somehow related to Major General Kruger being on the list. Hmmm, he murmured.

Yes, sir, on my way. Do not want to keep the minister waiting, called Zack.

Zack grabbed his Voodoo Tactical field bag from the overhead compartment (he smiled and thought of how he loved all the hidden pockets in the Voodoo bag), stooped and picked up his laptop case from the window seat pocket, did an about-face toward the aisle, took a short step, and promptly stumbled as his legs didn’t seem to want to work. Hmmm, he thought, guess I was sitting too long. He gathered himself and headed toward the forward exit, suddenly realizing that he had rudely walked away from the flight attendant without saying anything. Or had he?

He turned and said, My apologies, Ms. Cooper. It was nice chatting with you. Hopefully, I will get some time to call you at your hotel for coffee, and it is my great pleasure to meet you. He shot a big grin in her direction and then turned and headed up the aisle to a waiting Colonel Good.

Hmmm, she said as he walked away. Why is he repeating himself? He already said that once.

It’s about time, son. You don’t keep a full-bird colonel waiting on your sorry ass. All you young pups seem to have forgotten your military bearing. As Zack neared, Colonel Good’s cold, hard face broke into a big grin. How you doing, Zack? They embraced in a warrior’s hug and slapped each other on the back, and then both tried to speak at the same time.

By gawd, it is good to see you, son. Still the spittin’ image of your daddy. Still a lean, mean fighting machine?

Ha-ha! Well, if I have to be the spitting image of someone, I guess it should be Bart Stone. Yes, sir, and I’m still lean and mean but not much of a machine. It had been three years since Zack had seen the colonel, and they had much to catch up on.

Col. John James Jimmy Good was teaching team tactics at the special ops school at Fort Bragg, North Carolina, back then and had taken a personal interest in Zack. He had known the Stone family for all his adult life. He and Bart Stone, Zack’s father, had worked together on many covert operations and fought in many battles, both conventional and unconventional, mostly unknown ones, around the world. Lost in a moment of thought, he reminded himself that most infiltration missions were sacred but purposefully hidden, born out of necessity for security. Many men and women had died in these unknown battles and operations in jungles, forests, and deserts around the world. But because of the nature of who they were, these warriors could not be recognized for their valor and sacrifice. Theirs were just names, papers clipped in dusty file folders hidden away somewhere in the massive military archives.

He was jerked from his private thoughts by Zack asking about Mrs. Good—or Maddy as she liked to be called. Oh, you know, she can’t wait to see your sorry ass. When I told her you were coming for a short visit, she was beside herself with happiness. Steak and potatoes tonight, son, potatoes and steak tomorrow night, he added. Colonel Good then let out a horse laugh that seemed to rock the plane from side to side.

As the two men walked side by side down the Jetway toward the terminal, Zack continued the conversation. You haven’t changed a bit, have you, sir? Gotta have your steak and taters at least three times a week. I don’t know why Mrs. Good puts up with you. God knows she could have anyone she wanted who wouldn’t have dragged her all over the world. But as she has told me on more than one occasion, she likes the ‘really cute’ way that you show her the world. Are the girls here with you two?

No, Prissy is going to school at UC Berkeley, her freshman year. I just know she will become a brainwashed moron by those communist professors out there. But it will make for some interesting conversations when she visits home. Vera Mae is in her senior year at Oklahoma State, wants to be a veterinarian. She plans to get her master’s degree at Duke, not too far from—what the hell?

● ● ●

Anna Cooper sat on the sofa in the small living area in her DC apartment. She was sipping the hot tea she had painstakingly mixed, with two sugar cubes and one shot of cream, precisely as she liked it. Her roommates were off on flight assignments, so she had the entire apartment to herself. It was quite a rare occasion that all four of them were home at the same time.

As she sipped her tea, thoughts of how she found herself in this mess ran through her mind. A call from the German Embassy on Reservoir Road in Washington, DC, had come out of the blue. There were no pleasantries offered nor given, but she was simply told that a Mr. Bernhard Stoltz, the assistant cultural attaché, would be paying her a visit the next day. He will discuss matters of interest to the fatherland with you. The very threatening voice on the other end of the line told her in no uncertain terms, You will be there, Ms. Cooper. Understand?

She hesitated a moment, not sure how to respond.

Understand, Ms. Fassbinder?

Uh, yes, I understand.

Anxiously, she sat sipping her tea, trying to figure out what action she should take. Many questions ran through her mind; chief among them was, how did these people know where she lived? How had they gotten her phone number? And the big one was, how had they found out about her name change from Anja Fassbinder to Anna Cooper? That information was supposed to be confidential, given only to the police in cases of criminal activity. What in the world do I have to do with the German Embassy? I am well on my way to becoming an American citizen. I have my green card, and two months from now, I am scheduled to take my citizenship test at the INS office in Fairfax, Virginia.

Now a day later, across from her at the small kitchen table sat her visitor. He had introduced himself not as the assistant cultural attaché but as Herr Bernhard Stoltz of der Bundesnachrichtendienst (Federal Intelligence Service [FIS]). He was not a very pleasant man, and she could tell by the look in his eyes that she would be better off doing as he said. There was just something about the man that made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

As she sat silently staring at Herr Stoltz, she had no idea of how right she was. Bernhard Stoltz had a reputation in the FIS as being a cold-blooded, narcissistic, somewhat nasty, and unpredictable agent who could charm your socks off one minute or just as easily stick a knife in your heart to get the results he wanted. His department in FIS, SI (security), tolerated him because he always got results. No one really approved of him or even liked him because they were all afraid of him. And truth be told, he wanted them to fear him. He held black belts in multiple forms of martial arts, including Krav Maga, a no-nonsense, no-kidding form of putting extreme violence to your opponent’s most vulnerable body parts. None in the entire German spy network could hope to challenge him with any success. Other credentials included explosive ordnance expert, expert marksmanship (one hundred hits out of one hundred shots taken at distances of up to 1,500 meters), and a master’s degree in computer science from the prestigious Technical University of Berlin; and he could speak Russian, English, French, Mandarin, and Polish at the native speaker level, as well as his native German.

It was said that Stoltz was involved in the assassination of the Malaysian minister of defense several years earlier. The minister’s car had been blown to pieces by a pipe bomb strategically placed under the seat that Stoltz knew the minister would be sitting in. There wasn’t enough pieces left of the minister to identify. Also killed in the blast were the driver and four Tiger team commandos assigned to protect him. FIS had admonished him for being excessively brutal, but Stoltz couldn’t have cared less. He knew the admonishment was given because the action had not been sanctioned by the German government. Admonishment aside, Stoltz didn’t give a flying crap about whether it was sanctioned or not. His personnel jacket was full of admonishments, yet here he was, still doing a job that he loved.

He let the FIS stew on the rumors that he himself had started to keep respect and unpredictability in the minds of his colleagues. FIS did not know the correct number of hits he was responsible for, but it was many more than they had on record. Often, anyone who was bold enough to say anything against Deutschland would wind up in his crosshairs. And that had been the Malaysian’s mistake, having the audacity to call the government of Germany a bunch of Nazis. Well, he won’t be disrespecting Germany again, Stoltz was heard to say. All this freelance work brought him a certain amount of pleasure, so he maintained just enough control over his bloodlust and brought just enough normalcy to the job that FIS kept him in a position for a man of his considerable talents.

Fräulein Fassbinder, Deutschland is calling upon you to perform a service. He rather hissed at her. "You think because you have an American green card and have changed your name that you are no longer Deutsche. Ich versichere Ihnen dass Sie immer Deutscher sein werden! (I assure you that you will always be German!), he screamed at her. You will always be German. Never forget that because forgetting it could be quite perilous for you."

As scared as she was, in a brief moment of bravado, Anna forced herself to respond. You don’t scare me, Herr Stoltz. I have no idea who you people are nor why you want to involve me in whatever it is that you are involving me in. One call to the police will send you scurrying away like the rat that you are.

Stoltz sat stunned for a brief second and then shot a toothy smile in her direction. Oh, my dear fräulein, he said slowly. "I do admire your bit of mettle and tenacity, but it is misplaced. Should I choose, I could snap your neck like a twig or pluck a knife into your neck and watch you bleed out before I could get my coat on and vacate this apartment. I hope you do understand, Schatz, it would give me great pleasure to do so. But then I would have to go through a lengthy explanation to the service about why I did such a thing. Fräulein, I warn you, do not trifle with me as it will lead to an unpleasant end for you. And no one will ever find your body."

Petrified, Anna stared into the cold steel-blue eyes of her tormentor and knew that Herr Stoltz could harm her and indeed would enjoy doing it. But why me? she pleaded.

"You are the perfect candidate for this mission. Placement, access, personality make you the best choice. You work for a Deutsche-owned airlines, have access to the flight we want you on, and you have a very pleasant personality, all needed to perform this service we are asking of you."

How can my job as a flight attendant help you? Are you asking me to smuggle something illegal to a destination, like drugs?

No, Fräulein, nothing as silly as recreational drugs. He placed a small sealed bottle of liquid on the table in front of her and said, This bottle contains a drug called ketamine. You are to slip this into the drink of one of your passengers. This substance will make the passenger confused and interrupt his concentration. It will not harm him in any way. I’m sure that appeals to your gentle nature. His name is Zack Stone, a known U.S. intelligence agent. He will be flying out of Dulles on the Sunday evening flight for Berlin that departs at 2300. We have taken the liberty of hacking into the airline’s computers, and you are now scheduled to work that flight. Administering this drug to Mr. Stone will allow us to capture him upon his arrival with very little resistance. This is important, and you must ensure he takes it halfway through the flight. Understand?

Ja, she stated immediately.

Fräulein Fassbinder, we will be watching you intently until the aircraft departs. And even on the plane, you will be watched. To ensure your cooperation, Ms. Fassbinder, we have located several of your family members, including your parents. We know where in Runzhausen they live. Any deceit on your part or noncompliance places your parents in immediate danger. In a matter of minutes, a team of, shall we say, undesirable characters, specialists in inflicting pain, can be dispatched to their lovely home. These agents will mercilessly break several of your aging parents’ bones, causing them excruciating pain and agony. They will beg us to kill them, but of course, we won’t. They both will spend the rest of their lives in wheelchairs. I don’t think you would want something like that on your conscience. Stoltz was lying to her, of course, but she did not know this. He had simply looked up information in her dossier and was using it to his benefit. Besides, even Stoltz wouldn’t stoop to such a despicable thing, unless it was absolutely necessary.

"If you don’t do exactly what I have told you to do … well, I think you understand what will happen to your parents if you don’t. You may now consider yourself an asset of the Bundesnachrichtendienst. You will even be paid for your part in this."

Payment, she whispered. I don’t want your money, Herr Stoltz. You disgust me. If I took money from you, I would feel like no matter how many baths I took, I could never get myself clean again. I will do this to save my family from unwarranted violence and pain. To be honest, I thought this sort of clandestine treachery stopped when Germany reunited back in 1990. Guess I was wrong, huh?

Wrong indeed. Germany will do whatever is in its best interest, just as any other country in the world would do. Is that so difficult to understand, Fräulein?

I won’t argue the point with you, Herr Stoltz, but is threatening my parents in the best interest of Germany?

In this instance, it is. The good of all German citizens takes precedence over any individual. These actions that we take guarantee the survival of our nation and all its peoples.

Anna thought, What a bunch of scheisse [shit].

In conclusion, if you do not do as we have asked you, you will be shot before you get off the plane, and I personally will lead the team of agents who will inflict pain on your parents and possibly certain other members of your family, if we are so inclined. And don’t try contacting your parents. We have mechanisms in place to monitor your phones and theirs. Stoltz had taken the liberty of placing a bug on the underside of the small table they sat at, although the FIS had more updated methods to use, such as remotely activated mobile phone microphones and other technologies. Remember, you are being watched. Have I made myself clear?

Reichlich [Abundantly], Herr Stoltz.

With that, he put on his jacket, whirled, and headed toward the door. He halted at the door and said, Please, Fräulein Fassbinder, should I call again, have the decency to offer me refreshments. You have been a most rude and intolerable hostess. Didn’t your parents raise you better? Good day to you. See you in Berlin. I’ll let myself out.

He slammed the door on his way out, and Anna just stood there for a minute, staring at the closed door. Was fur ein unertragliches arschloch (What an intolerable asshole), she said aloud to no one in particular.

● ● ●

Chancellor Deidre Dallenbach stood behind her desk in the Bundeskanzlerin (the federal chancellery) in Berlin, Germany. She was staring at a painting of her father, Kraig Dallenbach, prominently centered on the wall behind her desk. Daddy, what am I to do? You were never one to allow people to force you into something you didn’t want to do. Yet here I am, your daughter, having to cater to rotten politicians.

Her father had founded Dallenbach Brewery AG and had given her mother, Geschatzt, and her and her two brothers, Karl and Manfred, a wonderfully comfortable life. They never wanted for a thing. He and his wife had insisted the three children get a good education, and they pushed all three hard to be leaders, entrepreneurs, and critical thinkers, and it had paid dividends. Karl became a professor of mathematics at ETH Zurich, the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology. Manfred went in a different direction and started CrossTab AG, a top software company in Vienna, Austria. Deidre had become interested in politics and leadership in her first year of secondary school when she was elected president of her freshman class.

The chancellor smiled at these happy memories of her family but soon enough came back to reality. The very thing she loved, politics, was eating her alive. She had several minutes before her next appointment with an agent from the Federal Intelligence Service. Having just finished reading Herr Stoltz’s dossier, she now found herself thinking about her friend and colleague of many years, Gen. Erik Kruger. He had been her staunchest political ally and had played a big part in her rise to the chancellorship. Although the chancellor, she had been more or less forced into signing off on the operation against her friend, and she was none too happy about it. Those pigheaded socialists played dirty politics constantly, and having moved several months into her second year as chancellor, she was really getting fed up with them.

She had argued with the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD) leaders that she could simply remove the general from his position of power without bloodshed. As longtime political pals, the general would have immediately tendered his resignation. Why, she kept asking herself, must he be eliminated in such a violent way? The SPD had counterargued that a man with the power of General Kruger would not be willing to give it up so easily. She reenforced her trust in him by telling those who wanted him gone that General Kruger was an honorable man, not prone to rebellion against those appointed over him. But in the end, with veiled threats that his demise would come about with or without her approval, she had relented.

After issuing that order, she had immediately launched a plan to have Erik Kruger protected. She had shared her plan with her trusted adviser, Dieter Bayer, a nonpolitical friend who would give her his honest opinion whether she agreed or not. Dieter was a distance cousin of the founder of the pharmaceutical giant Bayer AG, Friedrich Bayer and descendants. But unlike most of the Bayer clan, Dieter had made his own fortune in German steel, with 60 percent ownership of Zusammengelegt AG in his financial portfolio.

The two of them had met right after she approved the operation to oust General Kruger from his position. The first words out of Herr Bayer’s mouth other than hello were Big mistake, Deidre.

She had smiled at his brazen openness with her and had put her finger to her lips to shush him. Please, Dieter, let me say my piece. Then I will hear your advice, good or bad.

He had nodded his assent as he went silent.

I think you must realize that I would never have authorized the operation against Erik if I didn’t have some sort of backup plan in mind. These rotten, politically motivated ministers think they have me over a barrel. Not so. I am meeting with Herr Bernhard Stoltz, an agent from the NIS. He is a single operator, who loves to operate outside of channels and is a zealot when it comes to Germany. His methods are crude, he does not like to answer to anyone, murder and mayhem are his modus operandi, and his drive to succeed takes precedence over just about anything. He has a brilliant mind, although somewhat skewed by his need to shed blood. I plan to make him an offer that I know will be very appealing to him. He will keep his position at NIS but will receive his assignments only from me. Everyone over there is scared to death of him anyway. I plan to use him to ensure General Kruger will not be harmed in any way. He will be working hand in hand with General Kruger’s very own KSK personnel. Of course, I cannot reveal this to Erik. He would disapprove because he would feel it puts me in danger.

Are you sure you can trust a man like this Stoltz fellow? Dieter had asked. Please, my friend, do not put yourself in league with such an unpredictable man as this. They can and often do turn on their masters in the blink of an eye.

I have a plan in the making that will keep Herr Stoltz in check as well. The plan involves an American special operations sniper or assassin, whichever you prefer, but he knows nothing of it just yet. But he will soon enough.

Hmmmm. Dieter thought for a minute and then said, A psycho intelligence officer and an American killer. You really are walking and living on the edge, my dear friend. But I have a feeling that you will be using their strengths to make sure Erik does not get hurt. Bravo, my leader. You, indeed, are one of a kind. And I assume none of this will in any way come back on you.

The chancellor just smiled and nodded toward Dieter. Her thoughts were interrupted by light tapping on her office door. Madam Chancellor, Herr Stoltz is here as requested.

She turned and faced the door and said, Please show him in, Jakob.

● ● ●

What the heck is happening, Zack? asked Colonel Good.

They could feel the slow movement of the Jetway, away from both the terminal and the aircraft. Do you suppose no one knows that we are on this thing? Just as the question was asked, the Jetway stopped moving.

At each end of the Jetway stood two men, each smartly dressed in suit and tie. Zack did a double take, thinking that all four men looked exactly alike, like quadruplets or maybe clones. If he and the colonel weren’t in such dire straits, he would have thought it funny. Each man stood nearly two meters tall, likely weighed close to 135 kilos, and were all as wide as a wine barrel. Each toted a Heckler & Koch MP5 submachine gun, the weapon of choice by KSK agents. All had close-cropped hair, giving the illusion of being bald. By the cut of their suits, these men were huge and looked like they dined on raw meat.

As the four men walked toward the Americans, the front man on the plane’s end of the Jetway said, Horen sie zu, meine Herren. Ach, mein schlechtes. (Listen, gentlemen. Oh, my bad.) He quickly switched to English. Please listen up for your instructions, gentlemen. My name is Ernst Lange. Please do not make this any more difficult than it has to be. We can beat you into compliance, or you can cooperate, and we will take you to the minister’s location peacefully. If by some coincidence you are much tougher than you look, we will simply drug you into unconsciousness, but then we would have to carry you to the vehicle for transport. And we really do not want to have to do that. What will it be, gentlemen? Your choice.

Who are you, and what minister are you speaking of? Colonel Good loudly demanded. I am the U.S. Army attaché, diplomatically assigned to Berlin, and you will offer the appropriate courtesies of diplomatic exchange with me.

The answer came immediately and violently. The Leviathan behind the colonel hit him over the head with the submachine gun he carried. The colonel hit the floor like a lump of clay, knocked completely unconscious. A smile of satisfaction crossed the agent’s face.

Oh damn, that looks painful, Zack thought.

Now, Mr. Stone, said Mr. Lange, the team leader, it seems that we will have to carry the colonel anyway. There is always one who wants to be difficult. Would you like to be carried as well, or are you willing to cooperate? I bet it really angers you that you have no way out of this situation, you with your reputation and all. It would be my great pleasure to engage you in hand-to-hand combat, but unfortunately, I would have to kill you. The minister would not like this. Shall we walk to the transportation now?

In lieu of getting his ass kicked, Zack opted to walk out. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor, as the old saying goes, but he was worried about the colonel. I will walk out with you, but can we make sure Colonel Good is okay?

About a minute later, as the two agents bent to pick him up, Colonel Good began to moan. Then he sat up, rubbed and shook his head, and began to cuss like a sailor at the man who had planted the blow just behind his right ear. Zack said, Ah, I see he is just fine. This brought laughter from all four agents.

Herr Lange said, It is good that you can maintain a sense of humor in such a stressful situation, Herr Stone.

Zack looked at the KSK leader and smiled. What stress, my friend? The colonel causes me a lot of stress, often without even trying, but I am currently under no stress. I will either live or die. Either way, this eventually comes to an end. However, Colonel Good might be under some stress as he seems to be a bit irritated with your man for popping him on the head like that.

You are indeed a cool one, Mr. Stone. Your reputation, of course, precedes you. How can you be so cool under pressure and a mature older man acts like a child? Please follow me, gentlemen.

Herr Lange and his sidekick turned and walked toward an exit near the end of the Jetway, the two agents in the rear dragging the colonel by his arms. Colonel Good stood on his feet, shook himself loose from the agents, and said, Don’t worry about me. I can walk. Hey, Heinz! That was a pretty good shot you gave me from behind. Hopefully, I will get a chance to repay you someday.

The man addressed as Heinz simply smiled.

The entire party, led by Ernst Lange, exited the Jetway via a set of stairs conveniently rolled up and locked in place at the exit door by Lufthansa ground personnel. Four additional agents subordinate to Herr Lange waited on the tarmac about fifty yards from the stairs. They stood next to a large Mercedes Sprinter van and two Mercedes sedans. The Americans were unceremoniously pushed into the van through the sliding side door. Hoods were placed over their heads and their hands tied behind their backs. Heinz and another agent sat on folding seats facing the Americans, their MP5 submachine guns resting across their laps. Ernst Lange sat up front with the other agent who was to do the driving. The additional four agents rode in the front and rear security cars, two in each vehicle.

Zack and the colonel had looked at each other as they walked to the van and knew they could be in deep trouble. They both had been impressed by the professional use of secure transport techniques for a convoy by their captors. These men were completely focused on their jobs, and nothing short of a highway accident would provide a way of escape.

● ● ●

Anna Cooper had arrived an hour before flight time, a small suitcase with several changes of clothes packed neatly inside. Also enclosed was her small toiletry bag with the bottle of ketamine hidden underneath other items contained within. She was very apprehensive as the security personnel searched her bag, but to her immense relief, she was waved through after a cursory inspection. Anna was thinking, I wonder if security is this lax with passengers. If so, anything could be brought on board an aircraft. But she just smiled at the security man, who gave her a smile in return, and wheeled her way toward the gate.

The first thing Anna did on board the aircraft was to stow her bag in the aft galley, which was the section of the plane that she would work this flight. Then she checked the copy of the reservation manifest and saw that Zachary B. Stone was assigned to seat 76H in the rear cabin. Perfect, she said to herself. Then she reminded herself that nothing was perfect about any of this little adventure, but she was determined to make the best of it for her parents’ sake. She was a bit worried about how she would get the ketamine into Mr. Stone’s drink with so many people on board. She quickly reassured herself that she could do it. She had no choice.

What irked her the most about this entire issue was her mother and father had no idea they were in danger. Anna had been warned about trying to contact them, so she hadn’t even made an attempt. In spite of the situation, she smiled for the first time in a while, thinking about her home in Runzhausen, Germany, a beautiful small town of just over six hundred people in the German state of Hessen. The Fassbinders’ house sat at the top of a small rise at the very end of Brombeerrenbenstrasse on the west end of the community. Her father, Lukas, had built the house from the ground up, finishing it but six months before Anna’s birth. It had taken him and his brother Gunter two years to finish it, but as her father and uncle were master carpenters, you were not going to find a better built house in all Germany.

Ah, and my brother, Christof, she thought. I haven’t seen him in two years. He had ventured off to Africa as a volunteer physician with Médecins sans Frontières and always sent their mother wonderful stories and pictures of his exploits in Eritrea. He was based in Eritrea but traveled often to the nearby countries of Djibouti, Ethiopia, and Somalia, with an occasional venture into Sudan. With the unrest between the northern Muslims and the southern Christians, many planned trips into Juba in the south were often postponed or delayed.

Oh, hello.

Anna flinched at the sound of the voice behind her. Ach, she said as she nearly jumped out of her suit. After her experience with Herr Stoltz, she had become prone to jumpiness at the slightest noise.

I am sorry, did I startle you? You okay?

Yes, of course. Just thinking about my last trip to Germany.

My name is Teresa Zimmerman. I will be working this section with you. My usual partner on this flight is in the hospital. She fell and broke her ankle on the stairs in her apartment building. It is really great that we get a three-day layover in Berlin. I have much to do there this trip.

Before Anna responded, she thought, I’ll bet your usual partner was pushed down the stairs by Herr Stoltz or one of his henchmen. Then she had another quick thought. I wonder if this is the person assigned to make sure I do the service for the FIS and that prick, Herr Stoltz.

Hi, Teresa. Anna Cooper, my pleasure. Oh, I am so sorry to hear about your partner. How unfortunate. I was contacted only two days ago about this assignment. Yes, I am really looking forward to the layover in Berlin. I have only been there once, and that was when I was a little girl. My parents and I visited an aunt who lives there, my mother’s sister. I plan to look her up while in town as I have a gift from my mom for her. When I told my mom I was going to Berlin, she immediately had the gift shipped overnight to the hotel where I will be staying.

Oh, so you are German?

Anna detected a bit of German accent in Ms. Zimmerman’s English. She was still thinking this lady might be the agent assigned to watch her. "Yes. I was born in Gunzenhausen. My family lives in a small village, Runzhausen, just north of Giessen. But I have applied for U.S. citizenship. My citizenship test is two months from now. I am really excited about it.

Oh, very nice. My family were German diplomats back in the eighties and nineties. I was actually born in Mexico City. Mother was the deputy chief of mission, and Daddy was the political attaché. I came along about halfway through their tour there. I still visit Mexico as often as I can as my parents made many friends there, both fellow diplomats and local Mexican officials and businesspeople. In fact, after this flight to Berlin, I am hoping to fly to Mexico to meet my parents there to celebrate their fortieth anniversary with them. It just depends on how the next few days go.

I’ll bet you are excited about that.

Yes, but I am also doing research for a paper I am writing for a German history class I am taking. I’d rather leave the day after we land, but I’ll need the entire three days for research. If I don’t get this paper turned in during the next week, I feel I will fail the class. My history professor in Washington, DC, said I could send him the paper via email while I was here.

Well, that was nice of him. Shall we do our prep for boarding now? asked Anna.

Look at me, droning on about my activities. Yes, we should get started.

All six coffeepots were started, soft drinks stored in refrigerated compartments, snack items along with other drinks and ice stacked in the serving carts, trash bags put in receptacles, meals warming in the microwaves, and on and on down the prep chart that guided even the newest flight employee. Without the prep chart, the flight attendants would spend too much time during the flights getting things prepared for the passengers. Prep in advance ensured immediate attention could be offered to the passengers as soon as they boarded the aircraft. There would still be some prep during the over eight-hour flight, but it would only be the second meal offered.

Whew, said Teresa. Whoever thinks we lead a glamorous life as flight attendants hasn’t ever done the job. She giggled a bit as she said this, knowing full well she loved her job and, other than a few side ventures, never planned to change it. It was one of those side ventures that she was thinking about at this moment. That Schweinehundt (pig dog) Stoltz had given her the job of keeping an eye on Anna during this flight, and she wasn’t really happy about it. She had been bedding Stoltz for a year now, and the more she was with him, the more she disliked him. He was too rough at times. Up until now, she could handle it, but the problem was he kept upping the roughness. She was just about at the point of separating herself from his dominance. This poor girl Anna had no idea how difficult her life would be if she failed in her mission. If Anna balked at administering the ketamine to the passenger, it would be up to me to remind her that trouble awaits her if she doesn’t do it.

● ● ●

The chancellor walked from behind her desk and reached her hand out, and Stoltz shook it and said, It is my pleasure to meet you, Chancellor Dallenbach. My name is Bernhard Stoltz, and I am at your service. I have heard many great things about you. We share a love of Deutschland, and I want to personally thank you for your strong leadership in these troubling times.

"Please have a seat, Herr Stoltz. Your kind words are very flattering, but there are those in