Reading: "BORN FATALE IS THE FEMME" THE PRAXIS CONTINUUM (A.GLASS 2018)
"That's right, they compressed the whole thing down to a bungled robbery with a seasoned thief, that being Kurt and the double cross with the Hedge Fund using, would you believe, tactical police on their payroll to take out Kurt and Fieke...But, I don't know if she was there. Even though he indicated that she assisted in saving his life after the incident"
"She was, two of the local mercenaries used for the clean up operations killed at the scene and what happened in Vegas, you know that. The CCTV footage from Hospital when she dropped off the injured Kurt, even though it wasn't a very clear image and the hotel footage...Before and after she took out the two managers and the prostitute. One eyewitness, who claimed he was car jacked by a blond woman and injured male. No one has really pieced it together and that news clipping I sent you when she was in Cincinnati...Fieke's a killer, that's what she does..." He has another puff of the cigarillo. "...The question remains Dylan. Would you piece it together, draw the lines that lead back to Fieke?"
Forster looks up a the blue sky with a resigning smile on his face. "I'm done. When I saw Kurt in jail, he said something to me that stuck in my mind. As a metaphor that she's just a dream."
"And they fade," the man replies nodding. As Forster looks at him.
"That's right...I've..." Forster pauses looking up at the sky once again. "...destroyed the file that I have of her. Everything."
"Others, as I said before, have done the same," the man replies.
"So, are you going to tell me who you are after all of this."
The man takes of his baseball cap, running his hand over a shaved head with visible gray hair.
"You didn't notice this..." He holds out his left forearm with a faded tattoo inscribed into the skin. Forster makes out the aging details of ink.
"You were in the Marines."
"Nineteen seventy to Nineteen seventy six. Spent three years in the last stages of the Vietnam war..." He places the cigar in his mouth, putting his baseball cap back on. Exhaling a puff of smoke. He looks down at the blades of grass, discolored by the heat. Then turns and looks at Forster. "...I knew her father, before she was born. We served in the same unit in Vietnam. We got shipped back after the final troop withdrawal in seventy five, he was posted to West German and so was I, but at different perspectives."
"You were CIA?" Forster asks, feeling like he understands more of the man sitting beside him, in his second encounter with this mysterious stranger
"I'll let you fill in the blanks, you're close but..." He holds up the cigarillo. "...no cigar. I was part of an intelligence unit, which were working to keep an eye on German policies at the time."
"East Germany?" Forster asks
"West Germany, our mandate for intelligence gathering was on West German political interests. The fear at that time was they, the German Government, maybe becoming more sympathetic with the East Germans. Hence, West Germany could have leaned more towards a socialist inclination. We didn't want that, rather we needed the Germans to remain centralist so that NATO could get a footing in Europe. What starts in Germany, ends in Germany. They are the key to Europe, always have been. At this present moment they maybe swinging slightly to the right side of politics now..." The man chuckles. "...But I am...and I guess you could say, these days, retired from that position."
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