The line disconnected and Kathy’s father walked into the examination room with a lop-sided grin. “Well, this seems a bit early in the morning for a celebration, but Doc, I figured you’d want to know. They just scanned my forehead and the fever is down. It’s almost normal.”

###

Steve Chalmers sat on a two-person chaise lounge with Olivia nestled in his arms. The sun was hanging just above the distant tree line, and starlings flitted between the two bird feeders he’d installed only yesterday. It was seventy degrees, warm for a spring in Wiesbaden—or at least that’s what the people at the local market said—and a mild breeze brought with it the scent of freshly cut grass and fragrant pine from the nearby woods.

“I still can’t believe we got this place,” Olivia murmured as she rested her cheek against his chest. “How’d you talk the Muellers into selling?”

Steve put his hand on the slight swell of her belly. “I pulled in a few favors. It helps when the mayor’s father is a patient of yours.”

Olivia lifted her head and gave him an accusatory stare. “What did you do?”

Steve lifted his hands and shook his head. “Nothing, I swear. I just pointedly told the mayor that I really wanted to find a place with some land. And I may have mentioned that I wished the owners of this place would take my offer. Anyway, next thing I know, our offer was accepted.”

Olivia frowned. “I guess it pays to be a hero to a bunch of people in the German government.”

“No. I’m not a hero.” Steve thought of Juan, AgriMed, and the life he’d left behind. “Just a person trying to help humanity.”

“Who else but a hero gets German citizenship without having to live here for eight years?” Olivia poked him playfully in the chest. “You hardly even speak German.”

Before Steve could answer, he spotted a large black Mercedes pulling up their long driveway. “I wonder who that can be?”

“It looks like a government car.” She poked him again. “Maybe they’re here to give you another honor.”

“How can you tell it’s a government car?”

“That black and yellow symbol on the license plate, the one that looks like a bird—that’s the seal of Bundesrepublik Deutschland. The Federal Republic of Germany.”

Steve swung his feet off the chaise and stood as the car slowed to a stop only thirty feet from the house.

A man in a black pin-striped suit stepped out of the luxurious sedan. He was tall, with a muscular build, and his dark glasses and bland expression gave nothing away. A scar ran along the man’s right cheek.

Steve took a step forward. “Can I help you?” he called in broken German.