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.”Gage appreciated Monika’s sentiment.“Thank you, but I’d feel better if we’d at least just check.To me the most important thing is getting these into the right hands.”“All of this is like something from a movie.”“Well, take good notes, because you’re living it out, and maybe you could be the one to write a script.”She patted his leg, giggling in her excitement.Gage forced himself to think about the tasks at hand.It wouldn’t be long before they were at the border.Metz, their destination in eastern France, was just a short jaunt past the border, and only an hour from Saarbrücken, the city where Monika lived.Monika cracked her window and dropped her gum onto the autobahn.The icy wind jarred Gage, making his mind change gears.Something, a distant foreboding, about going into France had been gnawing at him.“How long has it been since you crossed the border by car?” he asked.“A few months.”“And did they stop you?”“Not at all.The old buildings from the border crossing are still there, but they’re no longer even manned.We won’t even have to slow down.”He lifted his foot from the accelerator.She lowered her leg back to the floorboard, a concerned look growing on her face.“Do you think there will be a problem?”Gage thought of Jean.He was probably still back in Frankfurt, camped out at Gage’s flat, wondering where the hell he was.His man would have relayed to him that Gage had burned him at the U-bahn station so, after his not going home the night before, Jean would now have to at least consider that Gage could be on the run.Would he have the wanton balls to set up a border checkpoint? That would require incredible pull from higher, and would raise a major stink.No, Gage decided.There would be no checkpoint.If Jean did that, he’d have to set one at every crossing on all of Germany’s borders.There were probably hundreds.“There won’t be any checkpoint there.But just in case, if we get questioned at any time, I’m going to give them a made-up name and tell them I don’t have any I.D.on me.I’ll be German.” He stared forward, reviewing his alleged background in his mind.Monika put her hand behind his neck, scratching lightly with her nails.“You’re beginning to scare me.”“Don’t worry, Monika.It’s just that there is one man who might know I took something from the building, and he may be looking for me.Casually looking for me.”“Who?”“He works for the people who hired me.”“And who are they?”“It doesn’t matter.”She pulled her hand away.As the pregnant silence ensued, he thought further about Jean’s likely course of action.Tagging anything related to Gage’s passport, identifications, or credit cards would be simple and wouldn’t raise much suspicion.He could pull it off on his own authority.Gage knew Jean well enough to know he would want it kept quiet, at least at this stage.And unless he was grossly mistaken, that meant electronic searches were his only fear at this stage.No one would be physically looking for him outside of Frankfurt.He hoped.Gage mashed the accelerator of the underpowered car as the autobahn began a gradual climb.Monika turned to face him.“I want to help you find out about the Morgenstern family.”“I like when we do things together.”Monika poked his arm with a rigid finger.“I mean it, Gage, not just some cursory assistance, I actually want to help.” She turned, crossing her arms, smile fading.“I forgave you for hiding your truth from me for so long, but now I want you to let me in…all the way in.Deal?”Gage nodded, not knowing what else to say but pleased at her resolve.But behind the sunglasses, the gnawing over France began again.And his head began to pound.***Metz, FranceThe rare book store was located on Rue de Lancieux, a pedestrian-only cobblestone street just a few blocks from the gilded Cathedral St.Etienne.Even in his anxious state, Gage couldn’t help but be impressed with Metz, perched on the scenic hills looking over the underappreciated Moselle River.A mist hovered over the hills in the distance, framing the city in soft Renoir-like elegance.Steeples rose above the ancient buildings, their bells ringing in the hour.Before going to the book store, they rented a modest room a few blocks away, paid for in euros from the money Jean had left for him at the dead drop.Before he paid, Gage hesitated, wondering if Jean had marked the bills.Paranoia, Gage, he thought, adjusting his sunglasses.Jean wouldn’t have gone that far over some books taken from a building.Would he?Guess we’ll find out.As they walked the curving streets near the hotel, hand in hand, Monika detailed her teenage summers in Metz.She knew a great deal about the city, from its historical Roman origins to today’s best restaurants.After turning onto Rue de Lancieux, Gage saw the store
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