Hi Mother, we are having a nice coffee and cake in a lovely little café in central Berlin that is really quite interesting. The weather is fine. How is Aunty?

He sighs when he finishes and sips his coffee. The phone bleeps softly.

I am fine, dear. Aunty is recovering from her operation. Your café sounds lovely. I shall surely try it the next time I visit that area.

‘Mutter?’ Bravo asks, nodding at the phone in the manner of mocking his old friend who has a worrisome mother.

‘Ja,’ Alpha tuts, knowing their location is being sent from the signal within the phone.

‘. . . Safa will be heartbroken. She’s tried so hard with him . . .’

‘But it’s down to him now. We can’t do anything more for him, Malc. Danke,’ the German-speaking Englishman calls out to the girl behind the counter as the two men head to the door.

Alpha and Bravo gather their maps and groan like middle-aged men as they stand up and politely take their cups back to the counter. ‘Danke,’ Bravo says, handing them over.

‘Bitte,’ the girl says, marvelling at how polite middle-aged German men are.

The two tourists head outside. Bravo turns the map round as though perplexed as to why he was holding it upside down. Alpha idly watches the direction taken by the two men.

‘Ah,’ Bravo says, finally getting his map the right way just in time to allow the correct foot follow distance to form. ‘Which way?’ he asks in perfect English.

‘This way I believe,’ Alpha replies, also in perfect English.

They match pace. Not closing the gap or widening it. There is an art to foot follows and they show their mastery by perfect motion and an almost sixth sense with regards to guessing when to stop and turn and when to keep forward momentum.

They follow the men along the busy main road, jammed full of noisy people. The general hubbub of a city centre so conducive to hiding in plain sight. Electric cars hum as they go past. The rare sound of a petrol or diesel engine interspersed here and there. People chatting seemingly to themselves using ear inserts and wireless microphones to carry out perfect conversations with perfect clarity. Other tourists wear digital glasses showing the route they need to take on the interior of the lens. Others stop to read messages only they can see and speak the responses to be sent.

‘Is that a Chinese restaurant?’ Alpha asks, as though pleasantly surprised to see such a thing.

‘I believe it is,’ Bravo says. ‘Is it open?’

‘We’ll have a look, maybe we could eat there tonight.’

‘Absolutely,’ Bravo says with mild enthusiasm.

Konrad and Malcolm reach the Chinese restaurant and turn right into the back road. The tourists amble after them and stop to read the digital menu displayed on the screen inside the window.