West Berlin

1986

9:30 p.m.

Loud rock boomed in the pub as Lyn and Kalen walked past an imposing bouncer guarding the doorway. Smoke filled the pub, rising and clinging to the ceiling. Neon signs decorated the bar with an array of imported liquor and burnished silverware hanging from racks. Drunken soldiers and Germans gathered in groups, guffawing and splashing liquor in the air; mashed cigarettes sprinkled the floor.

They made their way to a table beyond the bar. As they eased their way through the crowd, a man stepped back, bumping into Lyn. She stopped and glared at the soldier. His lecherous eyes undressed from her from top to bottom, and he rested a hand on her arm.

Before he could speak, she rushed past him, thumping him with a shoulder and moving on. The man made a face, shrugged and returned to the bar. She took a seat at the table, discreetly marked for them by a line of chalk.

“I’ll go get us some drinks,” Kalen said, heading off towards the bar.

She watched the giant stride away, the white rat tail on his head swinging as he walked. Despite years of experience, they never ceased to stand out: Lyn with her rain-colored eyes and green hair. Kalen with his long rat tail, wolf-like face and thunderbolt shaped scar along with his eye.

The table shook from the speakers as the bass magnified. Lyn scanned the area, finding another exit towards the back behind them, one in the front and most likely another by the bar. She grazed the pistol concealed on her waist and flicked off the safety. None of the Americans appeared to be armed, nor the other patrons.

She eyed the bartender, noting a particular spot he favored; a spot where he could readily access a shotgun or hidden firearm. Kalen slammed two cold beers before her and grinned. He slid the Heineken towards her, popping off the bottles with a bare hand.

“Both guards are armed…” he said, sipping a beer. “Bartender keeps a gun under the bar, and that couple hanging over there in the corner…”

Kalen gestured behind him with his head, taking another sip. Lyn nodded, took a pack of Pall Mall from her coat, and lit a cigarette. She inhaled and tilted her head slightly, blowing it out to the ceiling.

“Yeah…”

“They’re KGB.”

“Are you sure?”

Kalen nodded. “Positive.”

Lyn watched a drunken girl in a revealing dress shuffle past her, giggling. Another two girls followed, both speaking broken German.

“You think they’re onto us?” Lyn asked.

Kalen shrugged. “Maybe, always a chance our mole sold us out. If that’s the case, there’s probably a group of armed men waiting for us outside.”

Lyn wore a smirk. She took another deep draw and exhaled, letting the fag slip between her fingers. “I like those odds.”

They surveyed the bar and entrance, scrutinizing every person who walked in. The couple lingering in the corner approached the bar, paid their tab, and left promptly. But not before attaching something beneath a table.

“I think we’re good,” Lyn said, “it’s a dead drop.”

“Think we should check it out?”

Lyn leaned forward and cupped her face in her palms, grinning. “Nah, not our problem. You know why we’re here.”

A man approached the table, beads of sweat budding from his face and neck. His skin sported an unusual hue of red. Lyn gestured to him and pulled out a seat. He sat but continued looking over his shoulder and glancing towards the entrance.

“You’re drawing too much attention to us…” Lyn gritted.

Kalen slid a beer towards him, his predatory leer masked as a smile. He nodded at Lyn, and she reciprocated. She shifted her weight towards the man ready to subdue, while Kalen unholstered his pistol. The man released a heavy sigh and placed his cover on the table, revealing a large balding spot amid his hair.

“Were you followed?” Kalen asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

Lyn raised a skeptical brow. “You don’t think, or you don’t know?”

The officer shook his head and frowned. “I don’t know!” Realizing his outburst, he adjusted his uniform collar and spoke in a lower tone. “Look, I verified the lead. The people you’re looking for are being holed up in the safe house just like I said they were.”

Lyn’s face remained unconvinced. Kalen wrapped an arm around him and pressed a pistol against his body. “You sure — ?”

“ — we wouldn’t want a certain agency to know you’ve been selling classified intel to the Soviets now would we, Adler?” Lyn asked.

Adler gulped. “No. Look, it’s all here.” He pulled out a large envelope, removed the photos, and presented them to Lyn.

Each photo contained a portrait of two men, both sporting curly black hair, full noses and high cheekbones.

Kalen sneered. “So, these two bastards orchestrated the Munich Massacre of ‘72?”

“Correct,” Adler affirmed, sliding the photos back into the envelope.

“They’re twins from Palestine,” Lyn said, her voice flat. “Number five on the bingo book, one million each — ”

“I gave you what you wanted… Does this mean I’m off the hook?”

Lyn shared a glance with Kalen, finished her beer, and stood. Kalen did the same, walking towards the exit behind them. Adler’s body shuddered and as Lyn sauntered past him, she whispered in his ear: “If I found out you lied, I’ll kill you; the slow, painful way.”

She gave him a warm smile and disappeared around the corner. Adler’s face contorted into misery.

Kalen held open the door leading to a dimly lit alley. Parked off to the side waited a black Volkswagen with glossy skin and rims, a strong odor coming from its rubber seats fresh from the factory. Kalen opened the trunk, exposing a duffle bag overflowing with weapons.

“Take your pick,” he said.

Lyn rolled her eyes. She didn’t favor firearms, instead, preferring her bow Styx, which she kept hidden as a necklace of black pearls. She could summon it at will, strike down her enemies with mystical bolts of lightning. Styx, her greatest weapon and treasured gift from Drake, sidelined for tonight. But she thought of Drake’s blue eyes and his sharp smile; he was her ‘why.’

She took a submachine gun and attached a suppressor to it, grabbed a few magazines and slung it on her shoulder. Kalen, being the callous and eccentric man he was, grabbed an AR rifle from the trunk. He loaded it and checked the laser sighting on an adjacent wall.

Lyn scowled. “Are you trying to let everyone know we’re here?”

Kalen slammed the trunk. “Never bring a BB gun to a firefight, little lady.”

“You know I hate it when you call me that — !”

He took off, a spring in his step down another alleyway flanked by concrete walls on each side. Before Lyn could follow, he was already gone. She threw her arms into the air and released a guttural grunt.

Then she sprinted towards Kalen.