After standing up, Zane glanced over at the clock and noted that it was just a few minutes past seven. He was certain it was Carmen at the door, but since he was unarmed, he looked through the peephole. Standing a few feet away was a moderately tall woman with long, raven-black hair. Her olive complexion was partially hidden by bug-eye sunglasses. Zane released the latch and opened the door.
“Ciao!” said the smiling Italian. “I was just about to pick your lock.” Zane noted that she was dressed impeccably, as always. He imagined that her skinny jeans and heels had already turned a few heads out on the Stephansplatz.
“I know, I know.” Zane motioned her inside. “There was a woman on the plane who wore me out—”
“Please,” said Carmen, holding up a hand and smiling as she passed by. “I’m not one of the guys, so not really interested in one of your war stories.”
Zane shook his head. “So I get no sympathy for the torture I endured?”
“And of course at some point she came on to you?” she asked, ignoring his question.
“Well yeah, then there’s that.” They walked back into the room. “Not sure ‘Michel’ is going to be using that phone number tonight.”
“Ah yes, Michel Bergeron, breaker of women’s hearts.” Carmen grinned. “Anyway, how are you?”
“Doing well,” Zane said. “Good to see you.”
The two embraced briefly, and then Zane went back to enable the chain lock on the door.
“Nice,” said Carmen, staring out of the window. “I knew the view was good, but I had no idea it was this good. I threw my bags in the room and came straight over.” She turned around, hand on hip, and surveyed the room. “Speaking of which, where are your bags?”
“I have some clothes, but unfortunately the toys won’t arrive until tomorrow. I flew commercial.”
“I came over on our charter so I have something you can use until then.”
“Charter, huh? Nice to see one of us is loved.”
The Italian paused and looked back at him, as if hit with a thought. “But… I just remembered, the spare I’m going to offer is not exactly your favorite.”
“I don’t even need to guess.”
“One of these days, you’ll realize you’re in better hands with a Beretta anyway, my friend.”
Zane laughed. He was and always had been a Glock man. He liked its lighter weight and never-fail reliability. There were more sophisticated, heavy-duty pistols out there, but as he so often told those he trained, when you’re in a firefight and your life is on the line, your superior weapon won't help you if it jams. And when he spoke, the trainees listened. While he hadn’t engaged in competitive shooting in over a decade, Zane Watson was still known as one of the best marksmen in the world. And that also meant that whatever shortcomings Glocks had were more than overcome by his ability to fire the weapon.
Carmen, a full-blooded Italian, preferred using a Berretta. She lived in the States, and had become Americanized in a number of ways, but her heart would always be in Italy. And Italians used Berettas.
“92FS?”
“Of course. Brand spanking new. Compliments of Ross.”
“Switching gears, I hear you were able to, ummm… tie up all of our loose ends in Sicily?”
Carmen smiled. “Yes, I was. And it’s a good thing we finished when we did. I’m not sure if Ross told you or not, but the Italian government became aware of our involvement. At this point they don’t know who we are, only that some in our group spoke English with an American accent. Not me, of course. Anyway, they probably assume we’re CIA and have read Langley the riot act for operating on their soil. And I’m sure the director has steadfastly denied any knowledge that operation.”
“How did they find out?”
“Long story. I’ll fill you in later. I’m just happy Ross let me come straight here without going dark first. This Higgs affair must have set off some alarms pretty high up.”
“So high you can’t get any higher.”
Carmen raised an eyebrow. “I guess that’s not surprising.”
“Have you eaten?”
“I have not. Should we go now or wait?”
“Let’s go before we visit the apartment. I’d prefer to arrive there a little later. I don’t expect any problems, but I’d rather enter when there aren’t as many people around. We’ve had zero time to conduct due diligence.”
Carmen sat down on the bed. “Have you even had a chance to look over the exterior yet?”
“I’ve taken a look at some satellite photos and Google street views, but haven’t been over there yet. The building has six stories, and our apartment is on the third floor. As best I can tell, there are two entrances.”
“And the neighborhood?”
“The entire block appears to be apartment buildings that form a square around a central courtyard. Each building has one entrance facing the street, and I’m assuming another that opens onto the courtyard.”
“Is there a way to get to the courtyard from the street?” asked Carmen.
“You can’t tell from the satellite view.”
“Who owns the apartment?”
“We have his name, but we weren’t able to learn much about him. He lives in Munich and owns quite a few properties in Germany and Austria, including several here in Vienna. He and Higgs attended college together, so we can only assume Higgs reached out to him for a place to stay when things got hot. Anyway, we’re running on the assumption that this man knows nothing about what went on. In fact, he may not even know Higgs is dead.”
“In other words, we don’t believe the keys have even been changed out yet?” said Carmen.
Zane nodded. “But it’s probably best that we case it for an hour or so first, on the off chance the man found out about Higgs and sent over someone to get the place ready for the next tenant.”
“Sounds good,” said the Italian, standing up. “I need to get out of these heels, if you don’t mind. I also know a good place to eat that’s close by. I'll call and get a table.”
“I need to tidy up myself. I’ll be down in a few.”
“A dopo,” she said as she moved toward the door. She stopped about halfway and turned around. “Just don’t get back in the bed, sleeper agent.”
Ten minutes later, Zane met Carmen at her door. She was wearing a charcoal wool coat that hung just past her waist and a gray scarf wrapped snugly around her neck.
“Very nice look for you,” he remarked as he walked past her into the room. “You’re even stylish when you’re casual. I should’ve known you were going to upstage me once again.”
Zane was wearing a dark gray sweater, black pants, and black buck shoes with soft soles for walking. When Carmen looked over and sized him up, she remarked that cold weather rarely seemed to have any effect on her hot-natured partner. “You’re going to fit right in with the Viennese.”
“I decided shorts, black socks, and white tennis shoes might not work here.”
“Believe me when I say I’m most grateful for that.” Carmen secured the latch on the door. Two pieces of luggage were lying on the bed — a large, closed suitcase and a smaller one that was open. The small one was filled with the tools of the trade, everything from guns to knives to a portable GPS.
Zane surveyed the contents. “You have everything you need?”
“Si,” she replied, opening her coat and pointing at the bulge in one of the pockets.
Zane smiled as he noted there were only two guns remaining, both Berettas. One was matte black with an Osprey silencer, and the other was silver and black with no silencer. He chose the matte black, which also had an internal laser sight. He didn’t anticipate using it during the search of Higgs’s apartment but was still mindful of the mysterious dream he had had earlier. He had learned to pay attention to the premonitions that plagued him, and having a semi-automatic Beretta tucked into his belt would be a nice insurance policy against trouble.