Erin ran over to Vasiliy. “I need to borrow a car, too,” she told him.

JD turned to her. “What? Why?”

“Because I think I know where the key is,” she said. “And it’s not at the house.”

63. Danny

63

DANNY

Less than five minutes later, we were tearing through the streets of Berlin in the two borrowed Mercedes, with me and Gabriel at the wheels.

“We’ve done entirely too much racing around in cars this week,” grumbled Gina from the backseat. I wondered if this was the longest she’d ever been on the ground.

I slowed as we turned into the street where the General’s son and daughter lived. JD used a rifle scope to check the building out from a distance. “One guy outside, keeping watch,” he reported. “Bradan, you’re up.”

I pulled over and Bradan climbed out. We watched as he strolled down the street, head down, the hood of his hoodie hiding his face. There was something about the way he walked that made him look like a local: he just blended into the scene. No one so much as glanced at him.

“I should have gone with Erin,” I muttered, my eyes fixed on Bradan.

“I need you with me,” said JD from the passenger seat. Which was bullshit: he was just determined to keep us apart. I’d argued and argued with him but he wouldn’t listen. He was so mad at me, he wasn’t thinking straight: he might even be putting Erin in danger. But I didn’t blame him, I blamed myself. If I’d just buried my feelings for Erin, we’d still be friends.

Bradan walked straight past the guard, who ignored him. Then there was a flurry of movement, too quick to follow, and Bradan was dragging the guard’s unconscious body into an alley. Christ. He seemed so normal, when we were watching a football match or sinking beers. Then I saw something like this and remembered that his past wasn’t normal at all.

We flooded out of the cars and across the street, guns hidden under our clothes. Fortunately, the General’s kids lived on the ground floor so we could peek in through the windows. Four of Becker’s men were tearing the place apart, stabbing knives into couch cushions, emptying drawers on the floor and smashing vases in search of anything hidden inside. The daughter was sitting in a chair in the living room, pleading with one of the men. He had his gun pointed at the two grandchildren, who were huddled sobbing in a corner. All of our faces grew dark when we saw that.