A runner in fluorescent spandex stopped in front of Garin, tied his shoe, then handed him a business card and darted off.

Garin read the card, stuffed the notebook into his backpack, and jogged across the square. He ducked inside a canvas-covered rickshaw, which took off, racing along Pariser Platz and onto the pedestrian trails in the Tiergarten.

“Subject is on the move,” Unit Two announced over the open comm line.

A second later, he added, “He’s switched. Subject is now in a rickshaw with a blue top.”

The men in the cargo van could hear the field agents panting as they ran.

“I’ve lost him,” Unit Two said.

“Units Three and Four, report.”

“Unit Three. I’ve got him. He switched again outside the rose garden.”

A long pause, then, “He’s pulling away.”

“Unit Six,” a woman said. “I’ve got him. Passing the Bismarck Memorial.”

She panted as her footfalls grew faster, then stopped. “Subject has exited the rickshaw. Be advised, a similarly dressed man has jumped into the rickshaw: peacoat and jeans. The shoes, sunglasses, and hat are different. Actual subject is moving on foot.”

One of the men in the van spoke over the open line, “Confirmed, tracking dot is moving on foot.”

The woman’s breathing slowed. “He’s entering the English Garden, moving toward the teahouse. Please advise.”

“Observe and follow, Unit Six,” the agent in the van said. “Units Five and Seven, converge on the teahouse. Be advised meeting may be taking place there. Be on the lookout for Hughes and prepare to apprehend.”

The teahouse inside the Teirgarten’s English Garden was packed with tourists. Garin squeezed past them and entered the men’s restroom. The last rickshaw driver had given him another card:

In the restroom, seek the Looking Glass and await instructions.

Garin wasn’t sure what it meant, but inside the bathroom, he found a paper sign taped to the second stall:

Out of Order

Looking Glass Sanitation

He slowly pushed the door open.

Outside the teahouse, Unit Six watched Garin Meyer exit and race to a cab. She moved quickly, speaking into her mic. “Subject has exited the building, entering a cab with plate number B WT 393.”

The lead agent in the van said, “Tracking confirmed. Units Five and Seven, pursue. Air One, do you have eyes on the cab?”

“Affirmative, Alpha Leader, target is painted. We’re following.”

As the cab pulled away from the curb, Units Five and Seven put their motorcycles in gear and followed a few cars behind, careful not to attract attention. Twenty minutes later, the subject exited the cab and entered a small cafe on Reichsstraße, a few blocks from the Olympic stadium built for the 1936 games. He sat at a small table in the back and took out his cell phone.