Chapter 15

The trip with the ‘nice men in black’ lasted maybe twenty-three 23 seconds as another plane stood ready on the entrance to the runway. It was a Gulfstream, but not the G-500 they had used before. This one was a G-650, and it bore a Seal of the US of A stamped on it with Department of Justice logo painted on the nose.

In the car Paul heard, “step out. Watch your head and step up the stairs into the plane.” Paul noted the last was more a command than a request. There was no ‘please’ used.

The grey and white beast rolled out after Paul was seated and belted in. His four minders gone, now; replaced with a tall man and a cute red head. She handed him a pillow and wool blanket and sleep was suggested. He was told it would be a long flight.

It was very long. Maybe because he had been living on planes for the last day or two, or the result of the things that happened at MB. He fell asleep.

There were two trips to answer the call of nature, but no one seemed willing to say much of anything. He knew he wasn’t on anyone’s ‘watch list’. He tried to keep up his sprits by cracking a joke.

“All right, you guys, you got me! I’ll pay the damned parking ticket. Y’a hear me?” All in his best Edward G. Robinson voice. The tall man was not amused, the scowl on his face evident of that.

He woke up several times and tried again. “Are we there yet?” garnered no better responses. They were too long flying to just be going to D.C. When a KC-135 A pulled up along side, inched forward then released a furling cap to wait to the smaller plane. He knew D.C. had long since been forgotten. G-650’s flew 7,000 miles so that meant ... wait he thought. Even Cuba was not that far. Tel Aviv was nice this time of year, he wanted to say but...

So far not a word about where and why they were en-route was spoken. And not a creature was heard either.

What to do, what to do?

He went back to sleep.

It was a wonderful dream. He had been surrounded by his Harem. All they wore was the chains around their slim waists, and the rings on their fingers, and they were trying to comfort him after a long trip away. The hand gently shaking him was more passive as his hand went to it and started to stroke upwards, when it veered off to a generous breast he heard. “We don’t know each other that well, yet, sailor!”

He opened his sleep filled eyes.

“Were here, but you can still do that!”

Here, where the Hell was here?

In the distance the black Mercedes was coming to a stop and the ‘Welcome to Berlin’ sign was visible in the background.

Smiling, the FA said. “Somebody wants you, real bad! We just cost Uncle Sam $250,000 to get you here. If you got someone’s daddy or husband upset, I hope she was worth it!”

“Oh! You can’t even begin to imagine how much trouble I’m going to be in!?”

“Yes I can, but I’m not waiting here for you unless...” and she just smiled leaving the rest unsaid. ‘Not many get to ride this bird unless it was headed the other way’ she thought. ‘This guy had some powerful friends or maybe enemies’, Oh, well. Besides, she was getting tired of the Agency work.

Her name was Greta and would fit right in, so he wondered if she might like to work the 380, he reckoned it would become the tribes new ride. He ‘accidentally’ dropped his card. She did join up, and liked the new plane and the new salary, it was twice what she was making.

Let’s see, Berlin, a bunch of money spent and a personal escort. It was only a guess but he thought he knew who it might be.

The ride in the 600 re-enforced that guess.

Oh, Damn! was going to be the mantra for the rest of the day, maybe the rest of his life.

If it was Diane, he knew he was doomed, he could never say no to her. He hoped and prayed that this was not Reinhart’s doing! If it was, his suffering would be long and painful. He wondered if any Gestapo or Stazi were still around? If it was, Dieter, nooo ... Paul would definitely get him back for this.