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gun dangled at his side. "Jack, move."
    I sighed and stood up. "I'm unarmed," I said, holding my arms up as I passed him. His dark eyes met mine and his lips thinned. His head followed me. I could tell he didn't like being that close to me in a confined space.
    "Don't care," he said. "I know all about you, Noble." He nodded toward Bear. "Him too."
    "Yeah, well," I said, "I don't know jack about you."
    "And we're going to keep it that way," Colwell said. "Don't want you showing up at my door one night."
    "No," I looked back over my shoulder, "you don't."
    Colwell said nothing.
    I took my seat. Bear sat down across the aisle. He smiled and shook his head.
    Ten minutes of silence passed before they taxied the plane in a tight circle. Then the small plane barreled down the runway, cut through the air and turned to the northwest, toward Germany.
    * * *
    I slept through most of the flight and woke up as the plane descended through the dark sky toward the city of Frankfurt. Lights from cars and buildings lit up the black ground like pins poked in dark construction paper and held over a lamp. I pried my eyes from the window and looked at Bear. He clutched his seat belt tight. Only thing I found that set the big man on edge was flying. Not so much the flying part, though. He hated landing.
    He glanced over at me. Sweat covered his forehead. Beads rolled down his cheek and settled into his whiskers.
    "Take it easy," I said.
    He nodded and took a deep breath. His shoulders heaved up and down, forward and back. I'd seen him do this ritual several times. He clenched and loosened his muscles while taking deep breaths. The series of exercises helped him overcome and tame the panic that flooded his mind. It's how we were trained to handle any situation where our mind got the better of us. No shame in feeling afraid or panicked.
Improvise, adapt and overcome.
The unofficial mantra of the Marine Corps. It always stuck with us, even if we spent the majority of our time with the CIA.
    Bear exhaled, and the tension left his body. He smiled, let go of his belt and leaned back in his seat. I didn't think it appropriate to mention he'd have to go through this one more time before our ordeal ended.
    The plane lurched and tires squealed as they touched down on the runway furthest from the terminal. I bounced in my seat a few times while the plane set down. The pilot brought the jet to a near stop, and then guided us along the outside track, toward a row of terminals. The plane stopped.
    Colwell stood, passed by me and went in the cabin. A few minutes later he came back out and motioned for us to stand.
    We did.
    He opened the door and dropped the narrow set of stairs attached to the plane.
    I stepped through first. A cold breeze stung my face and exposed arms. We weren't prepared for this weather. I hurried down the stairs. An idling truck waited for us near the front of the plane.
    Bear came down the stairs with Colwell right behind him.
    Colwell pointed toward the truck. "That's your escort to the international flight back to the States."
    I nodded and waited for Colwell to join us. He didn't.
    The passenger door opened. A man stepped out. He looked to be mid-thirties and wore a dark suit, red tie. He walked around the back of the truck, pulled down the gate and then turned to us. "Get in." He pointed to the bed of the truck.
    I looked at Bear and rolled my eyes. He climbed up on the gate and took a seat on the wheel well, and I followed.
    The man in the suit nodded at Colwell, returned to the front of the truck and sat down in the cab.
    Colwell gave me a mock salute.
    I gave him a middle finger salute.
    He smiled.
    "Friggin' cold," Bear said loudly over the rush of the wind and the truck's engine.
    I didn't have to agree. My hot breath hit the chilled air and turned into a cloud of mist that rose above my head.
    The truck rolled slowly on the asphalt, close to the cluster of white and gray buildings. Floodlights spaced every thirty feet lit the