Continued from Part I.
“Carla,” Greer interrupted, sounding more than ever like a father than her commanding officer. “You need time and distance. Leave the country, go and sit on an island somewhere. Remember what it’s like to be a normal person. Then come back in a few weeks as the competent, disengaged professional I know you to be. That’s a direct order. Good luck.”
He hung up.
Carla leapt from the bed and paced up and down the room, rage building and boiling and swirling under her skin. She pushed it down, again and again, forcing her brain into thinking about plans. She knew she had to move fast, but few rational thoughts formed in the maelstrom of her fury. Perhaps the time for rational action had passed, she wondered. With that restriction thrown out, a new idea began to form. Daring, crazy. Paul would have approved. She threw on some clothes, grabbed her field bag, then picked up the phone again. She called Agent Eric Dusan, who was spending the night on the roof of the building opposite the Fearthgard hotel.
“Eric,” she said. “What’s von Shiff doing right now?”
“By the looks of things through my lens he’s sleeping,” came the reply. “As you should be. You’re not due to relieve me until seven. What’s wrong?”
“Has Greer spoken to you?”
“We have new orders. I’m coming over. I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Carla, tell me what’s going on.”
“It’s the moment we’ve been waiting for,” said Carla. “We’re going to pay von Shiff a little visit.”
To be continued…