“Davos, here we come,” she said, as she reached over and gave my thigh a friendly squeeze.
I pulled out of the parking space, and we headed for the A3 toll road, where I accelerated up to the speed limit, then rolled up the windows and opened the sunroof. We were instantly bathed in welcoming rays of sunlight, and it made Lux glow like an angel. It sure was strange being together again after all these years, but it was a good strange. I smiled to myself, turned up the stereo, and looked ahead at the towering peaks of the Alps, feeling particularly optimistic with the world at my fingertips and a beautiful woman at my side. If only life were always this good.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Guess Who's Coming to Lunch
THERE WAS NOTHING quite as breathtaking as driving though Switzerland’s scenic alpine valleys, but it was frustrating, however, pussy footing along so slowly in such a badass car. Unfortunately, the Swiss speed limits were dutifully enforced with payment for traffic fines expected to be paid on the spot. I did manage to at least open up the accelerator for a brief spell when we reached a barren stretch of highway, but Lux was quick to remind me of the Swiss Police’s propensity for speed traps, and I regretfully slowed back down to 120 kilometers per hour. It sounded exciting when it was metric, but, in reality, only equaled a paltry seventy-four miles per hour—a speed which was only glorious on a moped.
We were clearing the claustrophobic confines of one of the many tunnels when we decided to stop for lunch at a quaint restaurant that overlooked Lake Zurich. It was called the Matterhorn, and it looked like a traditional Swiss chalet with its wide projecting roof and wood and white facade. The view would surely be spectacular in the fading late afternoon light, but I couldn’t help but regret the fact that we were breaking one of the cardinal rules that I’d learned from my father—if you can see the water, don’t eat there. It’s going to be overpriced, and the cuisine quality will be mediocre at best, because it charges for the view and ambiance rather than the food. That theory pretty much includes any body of water, be it a lake, river, or ocean, and it has served me well on practically every continent of the world. Today, however, we were on the government’s dime, so I decided to throw caution to the wind and break from my father’s eternal wisdom.
“Normally, I’d never eat at a place with a water view,” I said.
“Why?”
“You’re paying for the view, not the food, so, the former will empty your wallet, and the latter might leave you with a lovely case of the green apple splatters.”
“I wonder if they have a pill for people like you.”
“You mean one that will make you less brilliant and therefore more susceptible to falling prey to one of life’s many pitfalls? I’d say it’s doubtful.”
We pulled in to find the parking lot was practically full, so odds were pretty good that the food was reasonably fresh and at least edible. I once got a nasty case of food poisoning from eating swine schnitzel at a restaurant in Heidelberg. That restaurant hadn’t been very crowded for a Friday night, which should have been a warning flag to eat elsewhere. Sixteen trips to my hotel bathroom later that night, I regretted not following my own instincts and even considered burning the restaurant to the ground in order to save anyone else from that kind of hell.
We parked and walked up the stairs of the restaurant to enter a pleasant waiting area with cozy furniture and a fireplace. There was a family of four ahead of us, and, not surprisingly, the father was wearing yellow pants. I pointed them out to Lux, and she immediately told me to keep my voice down and sent me away to wait on the bench seat that resided beside the front door. That’s when I looked outside and saw the silver Range Rover pulling into the parking lot. Interesting. I’d seen the same car on and off for the last forty minutes since leaving Zurich. We were on one of the main roads in Switzerland, so it wouldn’t be too coincidental that someone was going the same direction, but it was a little odd they chose the same restaurant. They eventually found a space, then, shortly thereafter, a man and woman stepped out. On the surface, they looked like a typical married couple, but, under the surface, I thought they looked like a surveillance team. It showed in their bearing. You could take a person out of the spy game, but you couldn’t take the spy game out of the person. Rather than look casual and talk to each other like normal people, they were both scanning the parking lot as though looking for potential threats. I motioned for Lux to come over, and she looked annoyed as she joined me by the front window.
“What? Did you find more people wearing yellow pants?”
“No, it’s worse. I think we have a tail.”
“That’s ridiculous. No one even knows we’re in Switzerland except for Corn and John.”
“And the Swiss.”
“Who wouldn’t be following us.”
“Exactly, which is why I’m worried about the fuckers in the silver Range Rover.”
Lux tried to appear consoling, even going so far as to hold my hands as she spoke.
“You’ve been out of the game awhile. Take a minute to breath and think. We’re on our way to one of the most popular ski resorts in the world, and this is one of only two restaurants we’ve passed in fifteen minutes. Repeat after me. They are nothing more than hungry travelers.”
“They are nothing more than hungry travelers—secretly waiting for the right moment to kill us.”
“Come on, Finn. Say it correctly now. They are nothing more than hungry travelers.”
“They are nothing more than hungry travelers.”
“Simply looking for a place to eat.”
“Simply looking for a place to eat—before they try and kill us, because let’s face it—who would want to kill someone on an empty stomach?”
“Since you’re unable to listen to reason, I’m going to ignore you and get us a table, and, perhaps, in the meantime, see if I can get you some crayons and paper to keep you busy and help you relax.”
“If you really want to get all maternal and help me relax, you might just want to offer up one, or, preferably, both, of your breasts.”
“Oh really, and how are you going to relax with a boner?”
“Fine, we’ll skip the whole relaxing part and go with pleasantly distracted.”
Lux was done talking and walked back to the hostess stand, leaving me to keep a keen eye on the couple. They talked for a minute then put something in the back of the Range Rover and started walking towards the restaurant. I got up and stood next to Lux and patiently waited for them to arrive. A second later, the two came in, and I at last managed to get a closer look at our fellow motorists. The man was about my height, clean cut, and wearing black pants and a grey sweater, while the woman was particularly attractive with long brown hair, blue eyes, and a lovely figure accentuated by grey stretch pants and a tight white shirt beneath her black micro puff down jacket. I smiled and said hello in English, and they responded in kind—also in English. Lux watched the whole exchange then proceeded to give me a self-satisfied smile.
“See, they’re American tourists just like us. Happy now?” she whispered.
“No, and none of us are just tourists.”
In spite of their outwardly friendly interaction and normal appearance, I wasn’t convinced, and kept a close eye on them while we waited for the family in front of us to be seated. Now, it was our turn, and the hostess took us to a table for two with a lovely view of lake Zurich. She asked if we’d like to start with any drinks, and we made it easy and ordered water and coffee. She left to start our order, and we turned our attention to our menus. After perusing the various items I took a moment to have a quick look around and saw that the suspicious couple were being seated in the section behind ours, which was exactly where I would have sat if I were watching us. I picked up my butter knife and used it as a mirror to keep a discreet eye on our fellow tourists until Lux noticed and grumbled her disapproval.
“Seriously, you’re still doing counter surveillance on our fellow Americans?”
“Yeah, someone has
to keep an eye on those fuckers.”
“Now, it’s all starting to make sense. You left government service because you were getting paranoid and losing your shit.”
“It’s paranoia that keeps you alive in this business.”
The waitress arrived, so I put down my knife and looked up to see that she was very pretty, somewhere in her early twenties, and sporting dyed black hair, a nose ring, and a tattoo on her forearm. If she were a college student, I’d bet even money she was an art or literature major—maybe both.
“Guten tag,” I said.
“Hallo, my name is Verena,” she said, with a German accent.
“How can you tell we’re American?”
“No yellow pants.”
I looked at Lux with a satisfied smile then turned my attention back to Verena.
“So, my liebchen, what do you recommend?”
“Well, I’d start with fondue, and also get an order of pork ribs, which comes with potatoes and vegetables. It’s very good, but like everything else here, is overpriced because we’re on the lake. The same meal would be half the price on the other side of the highway.”
I was two for two and looked at Lux with an even more satisfied smile before once again returning my attention back to Verena.
“Thank you, Verena! I told my lady friend here the exact same thing, and she thought I was full of shit.”
“No, I would say you’re the opposite—devoid of shit, and therefore insightful.”
“As well as generous because your equally brilliant insight just earned you one hell of a tip,” I said.
“Well, fuck yeah!” she said, holding up her hand for a high five.
We completed the gesture and exchanged a quick laugh, then Verena looked around and lowered her voice as she spoke.
“It’s OK, you don’t have to tip in Switzerland—though it would be greatly appreciated,” she said.
We went with her suggestion, and she headed off to the kitchen to put in our order, and I turned my attention towards the magnificent view of Lake Zurich until I felt Lux staring at me.
“What?” I asked, turning my gaze to her.
“For fuck’s sake, is there any woman on this earth that you don’t connect with?”
“You?”
“Oh, we definitely connected.”
“Yeah—until you married my best friend, though I suppose we did connect on the beach that night.”
“That’s not what I meant, jackass.”
“I know, but you’re missing the deeper point here. Women are people—and I generally find people interesting. It’s not a gender thing.”
“Really? So what is our insightful waitress’s bra size?”
“Thirty-four B.”
“And what size pants does our busboy wear?”
“Who gives a shit?”
“Exactly, man-whore.”
Verena appeared from the kitchen and went to our fellow Americans to take their order, and I figured it was a good time to excuse myself and go to the restroom. I needed to pee, but, more importantly, it allowed me to walk directly past their table and do a little recon. Verena was explaining the specials and helping them decide what to order, and I noticed their key fob was sitting beside the woman’s plate. She glanced in my direction, and I gave her a friendly nod as I continued on to the bathroom, where I peed and then washed my hands. I headed back out to the dining room and saw that the busboy was bringing water over to their table, and I suddenly had an idea. I set off in their direction but timed my arrival so that he had the tray directly in front of the woman. At that point, I gave him a very purposeful bump that made the glasses fall over and send ice cold water splashing all down the front of her tight white shirt. It was thoroughly soaked, and the thin fabric became completely see-through, thus revealing her lovely breasts, and, more specifically, her now particularly hard nipples. Boom! I had created the perfect distraction! All the men’s attention, including my own, was suddenly focused on her lovely bosom, and, in the interest of being polite, I grabbed a napkin and moved in to help dry the front of her shirt.
“I’m just fine, thank you,” she said, swatting my hand away.
“Oh sorry. I was only trying to help,” I said, as I snatched up their Range Rover key fob with my other hand.
I apologized profusely and returned to Lux to find her frowning at me.
“Couldn’t leave it alone, could you?”
“You’ll thank me later.”
“From jail. Goddammit, Finn! Corn told you to keep it all on the down-low.”
I hazarded a brief glance at the couple and noticed that the woman was still looking a little irked by my stunt. Her male counterpart, however, appeared to be enjoying the view of her wet, see-through shirt, and his considerable attention revealed the look of a man who hadn’t seen her feminine goodies before, which was yet another sign that they weren’t a real couple.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going now?”
“To do a little recon.”
“Seriously, Finn, you better not get us arrested before we even reach Davos!”
“Don’t worry, I’m a professional, and I’ll be back before you can sing the opening line to the Sound of Music.”
“The hills are alive with the sound of you getting arrested,” Lux said.
“I’m giving you participation points, but only two, because I said sing the opening line.”
“Fine, the hills are alive with the sound of you getting arrested,” Lux sang in a lovely high voice oddly reminiscent of the Julie Andrews original.
“OK, fine, you get your ten points, but I’m still going off to do my recon.”
I stood up, left the table, and discreetly made my way out the front door and across the parking lot to the silver Range Rover. There, I hazarded a brief glance back towards the restaurant’s front door, and, seeing I wasn’t being watched, hit the unlock button. I started my search with the front seats, discovering it was clean on the passenger’s side, while the driver’s was littered with Kleenex, food wrappers, and crumbs, which I took as evidence that the woman had most certainly been the last driver. In all my years of interacting with the opposite sex, I had never met a single woman who didn’t drive with at least one or all of the afore mentioned items scattered about her car. I continued my search and found that there were two lukewarm half-full cups of coffee in the center cup holders, so it appeared they didn’t have time to finish them before we pulled over for lunch. Next, I checked the armrest compartment and, finding nothing, switched to the glove box. Inside, there was a small leather binder that contained the manual and, more importantly, the registration. It turned out that the Range Rover was owned by the Fuchs Corporation. I took a picture of the document with my phone then moved to the back seat, which was as clean as could be without so much as a discarded toothpick or wad of tissue. I stepped out and opened the rear hatch and found two overnight bags, which revealed nothing except the unusual fact that the man’s bag had a pack of condoms in the outside pocket. At least he was being safe, if not a little overly optimistic about his potential with his partner. I moved their bags aside and lifted the floor cargo compartment cover, and that’s when it finally got particularly interesting. Inside, was a parabolic microphone, binoculars, two pistols, and a long range HK assault rifle with a scope and a night vision attachment. Typical American tourists. I closed the back hatch, hit the lock button, and stood there for a minute to make sure I was alone before I knelt down and let the air out of the back left tire. That would certainly give us time to lose the two Fuchs.
I walked back inside the restaurant, and, as I came upon our American friends, I stopped and delivered another apology, and used the exchange to place their key fob back on their table. With my recon mission officially complete, I rejoined Lux just in time to enjoy the fondue that had arrived at the exact same moment. Verena lit the little Sterno canister and departed, leaving me free to grab a piece of rustic bread, dip it in the cheese, and take a b
ite. Delicious! I had forgotten how good fondue could be, as I hadn’t had it since I was just a youngster in the early eighties when the fad had become firmly entrenched in American cuisine. Lux followed suit, took a bite, and appeared to be equally happy with the fondue.
“That’s really good considering we can see the water,” she said, patronizingly.
“Yeah, but just wait until we get the check. I’ll definitely be using the Agency expense card.”
“So—you mind telling me where the hell you just went?”
“I was out in the parking lot checking out our American friends’ vehicle.”
“Let me guess. They’re typical American tourists.”
“In a manner of speaking.”
“So, are you satisfied now?”
“Yeah, but I suppose I should also mention that they’re armed to the teeth with two pistols, a state of the art sniper rifle, parabolic microphone, and binoculars. Now, are you feeling satisfied?”
“Not if you’re being serious.”
“Unfortunately, I am being serious—and I’m seriously wondering why in the fuck we’re being tailed by an American surveillance team.”
“Maybe they’re Canadian.”
“Yeah, and maybe they’re in Switzerland for the fucking lumberjack olympics, which has now added shooting and surveillance to its list of events, but, as that’s highly unlikely, I see this as a pretty serious potential problem.”
Lux was finally starting to look concerned.
“You learn anything else?” she asked.
“Yeah, the Range Rover is registered to the Fuchs Corporation. Ring any bells?”
“Not a one.”
“So, you have no idea who they might be?” I asked.
“None whatsoever. I’m telling you—this mission is completely off the books.”
“Well, apparently a couple of fucking Fuchs know about it.”
Verena swung back by to see how we liked the fondue, and I told her it was excellent. She moved on, and we continued dipping little chunks of the rustic bread into the molten cheese until we had finished the entire basket. I was seriously full and feeling as though I was about to burst when our main meal arrived. Fuck me. How the hell could Switzerland have the second largest number of centenarians on the planet when they ate more calories at one sitting than a troop of baboons? It must be all the fucking hiking, which made me wonder if perhaps Lux and I should walk the rest of the way to Davos. Factoring in the calories from the bread, cheese, and pork, we’d be back to homeostasis after about forty-five miles. I looked across at her, and I could tell that she was feeling the same way, though she soldiered on and took a bite of one of her pork ribs.
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