It was another thirty seconds before Sean reached the intersection and the entrance to the pedestrian street. When he got there, though, he let out a deep sigh. Hundreds of people milled about the area. A few Asian visitors were getting their picture taken near the entrance to the wooden footbridge. A hodgepodge of other people stood outside the cafes, sat at tables, drinking wine and beer or eating their lunches while others just seemed to be walking aimlessly around as they enjoyed the sights.
He'd lost the man in the red shirt.
Sean started making his way through the glut of people, edging his way past shoulders, fanny packs, and backpacks. Up ahead, he saw hair that looked exactly like the guy he was chasing. Sean picked up the pace again and attempted to hurry through the throng.
He nearly caught up with the man, getting as close as thirty feet away. But the mark turned and started walking in the other direction. When he did, Sean noticed the guy had on a green shirt. He'd spotted the wrong guy.
Sean spun around on his heels, searching the crowd for the apartment intruder, but he was nowhere to be found. "Good job, Sean. Lost a lead," he cursed himself.
He took a long, slow breath. "Where did you go?"
After a minute of looking around without success, he stepped out of the flow of traffic and stood next to one of the decorative black fences that surrounded an Italian restaurant. He glanced at the menu. The description of the different dishes sounded delicious, and he was starting to get hungry. As he tried to decide what to do, his stomach grumbled, giving him the sign he was looking for.
At the very least, he figured he could sit outside and wait to see if red shirt happened to come by again. If the man doubled back, Sean would be there ready for him.
He stepped over to the hostess stand where a short, young woman with straight brown hair down to her shoulders awaited in a black button-up shirt and matching pants.
"A table for one, please," he said in nearly perfect German. "Outside if possible." He passed her a warm grin.
She smiled at him and grabbed a menu from one of the pulpit's shelves. "Right this way."
Sean sat with his back to the restaurant so he could face the water and keep an eye on the faces that walked by. He decided to get spaghetti with meatballs and a salad. The lasagna looked amazing, but eating something heavy like that when he was on a mission was something Sean rarely did. He liked to keep light so he could stay on his toes.
The server brought him a glass of water with no ice, and he drank it quickly, not realizing how thirsty he'd got from his activities thus far.
Sean studied the people as they passed by. After ten minutes, his plate of food arrived with the salad on the side. He thanked the server and dug into the pasta, devouring it in only a few minutes. The robust, red spaghetti sauce had a sharp garlic flavor to it, along with potent Italian herbs. The meatballs were hearty, seasoned with onions, garlic, and pepper. He made quick work of the salad as well, and gnawed on a few pieces of bread that came with the meal.
Another twenty minutes went by without ever seeing the man in the red shirt again. Sean was mad at himself for losing the guy, but being angry wouldn't help anything.
He remembered the book he'd put in his rucksack and took it out, careful not to let anyone see the swastika on the front. His fingers flipped through the pages again, and he read some of the notes that the older Ott had made:
If the Führer were to succeed with these experiments, it could alter the course of history and the future.
Sean wondered what the device was capable of doing. He recalled what he'd been told so far, and what the book said. Things were still fairly vague. He needed answers, and fast. Time was running out for Dr. Ott.
He took his phone out of his pocket to see if anyone had called. It was a little surprising that there'd been no word from Tommy, even though it had only been about thirty minutes since he'd talked to his friend. Tommy worked fast, and his two assistants were always ready for a little sleuthing.
Might as well do some research himself while he was waiting. There wasn't anything else to do.
He tapped on the app for his favorite search engine and typed in the words die glocke. After a few seconds, several links appeared on the first page. One featured a video. Others were links to websites containing information on the subject. His eyebrows furrowed as he frowned and clicked on one of the blue links. "How is it that so many people know what this thing is, and I've never heard of it?" he wondered aloud.
The website appeared on his screen, and he started reading about the odd device the Nazis had tried to develop. Most of what he was seeing was conjecture. Some people believed that die Glocke was some kind of a UFO that Hitler had created in order to spread his would-be Aryan nation throughout the cosmos. Other theories stated that the device was designed as a means of time travel. One of the more interesting ideas Sean noted was the notion that die Glocke could manipulate space-time, creating a wormhole around itself and essentially disappearing from the current dimension.
According to the website, the tests for the device happened at a place called Der Riese near the Wenceslas mine in Poland, fairly close to the Czech border. The story suggested that the Third Reich murdered many of the scientists working on the project when things began to go south for the Germans. Apparently, they didn't want anyone sharing their research or any findings with the enemy.
In the text, Sean noticed mention of something called, "The Henge," which was described as a circle of concrete columns that may have been used to anchor the device. He held the book down and flipped to the page where he remembered seeing something similar to that description. Sure enough, the more Sean looked at it, the more the circle looked like a kind of Stonehenge. But why?
He did a quick search for the location of the Wenceslaus mine and set a waypoint on his phone's map. After putting the book back in his rucksack, he got up from the table and started walking back to the car he'd left in front of Ott's apartment building.
It took nearly fifteen minutes for him to get back to the sedan. He hadn't realized how far the guy in the red shirt had taken him through the city when he was in pursuit.
Sean opened the vehicle and set the rucksack in the back seat. He slid into the driver's seat and adjusted the settings before firing up the engine. Sean wasn't a car guy. He loved motorcycles and had a small museum's worth of them back in Atlanta. Often people asked him if he just collected bikes or if he actually rode them. He found the question to be annoying, but always responded by telling people the only reason to own a motorcycle is to ride it. He didn't have them on display for the public or anything like that. They were kept in a safe place, in his massive garage below the house.
But even a motorcycle guy could appreciate the sound of the BMW's motor as it revved to life. It brought a subtle grin to his face as he gripped the wheel and shifted into drive.
He was stopped before he could take off. The familiar vibration of his phone going off in his pocket caused him to shift the car back into park, killing the momentary thrill of anticipation.
"What have you got, Tommy?"
"I'm doing fine, thanks. Weather here in Atlanta is awesome right now."
Sean shook his head and briefly considered hanging up on his friend, except that he loved the smart aleck response. "Great. Good to know. Tell me something."
"We're still researching the submarine thing. That might take a while, but there are some promising angles the kids are looking into. As far as die Glocke is concerned, you could have done an Internet search to find out some interesting things about that. "