The Export J.K. Kelly (best way to read e books .TXT) 📖

free food and drink to the masses in exchange for their listening to his speeches and propaganda. The slaughter that often came in the Emperors’ Coliseum wasn’t realized at the beerhouse. Hitler waited until he got the votes and gained control to go on his rampage. Eve continued to want to know more. One guide suggested that to gain the full effect of what had happened back then, Matt should take her to Dachau, and when she learned what that was, she had to go.

That night, after touring what remained of one of Hitler’s infamous concentration camps, he tried his best to cheer her up, but she was outraged and then depressed by what she had learned. Between the jet lag and the long day, they headed back to the hotel for a long night’s rest. She had mentioned she loved the mountains, so over dinner, he came up with an idea that worked for them both.

In the morning after a room service breakfast of coffee, Nutella croissants, fresh fruit, and a variety of juices, they checked out of the hotel and boarded a train for the short ride to Salzburg, Austria. There, in familiar territory for him, they’d take in the sights of a city that were free of Hitler’s shadow. For him, there were miles of high-effort hiking amidst the beautiful Austrian Alps. He knew, too, that the sun does rise again, no matter what, and he thought taking her to someplace with a grand view of the mountains would make for a spectacular day. He’d visited the place once before, and it was time to go back to the Eagles Nest.

The train trip was quick and easy. A first-class fare afforded them a private room with seating for four. They dumped their bags at a hotel just off the train station near the central square and then took time to plot out the rest of their day. A much-needed lunch washed down by two large beers helped shake yesterday’s depression from her. Without proper hiking gear, though, she’d not have a good time in the hills, so they sought out a proper shop. While Matt selected the few items that he thought they might need, Eve studied the mountain supply store and picked up something familiar to her. As Matt turned to see where she was, he saw her twirling a red ice ax rather proficiently in her hand.

“You won’t be needing one of those,” he called over to her. “We’re not going that far up.” As a clerk approached Eve to offer his assistance, Matt met them there to show her what he had acquired.

“I love your accent, madam,” the clerk said. “What part of France are you from?” She laughed. “I’m not French, I’m Canadian. I’m from Montreal.”

Matt’s head spun, at least on the inside, when he heard her response.

Familiar with an ice ax, blonde, French accent, he thought. What an uncanny coincidence.

He watched as Eve put the ax back into its hanger, and she turned to check out his goods. With boots and socks, canteens and energy bars, trekking poles and rain ponchos for both, they headed back to the hotel to drop off their new gear and then take a self-guided tour of old Salzburg. While grabbing a latte at the hotel bar before venturing back out, Matt’s phone vibrated. It was a text from CD.

SAMPLE OK. TARGETS IN UK. NEED A FEW DAYS

Eve joined him after a change for dinner. She watched as he put his phone away and laughed. “How many of those damn things do you have? Is that the third phone I’ve seen you with?”

He smiled. “Fourth,” he replied.

“I got a text from Vicki,” Eve told him. “She’s connected with some guy from India, and they’re flying there tomorrow. He’s treating!” They both laughed.

“You have to admire someone who always lands on their feet,” he added.

After an hour-long stroll up to the Hohensalzburg Fortress, a massive white castle sitting on a hill overlooking the city best known for composer Wolfgang Mozart, it was time to eat again. Eve noticed as their walk progressed that Matt seemed distracted by something.

“You bored with me already?” she joked and then nudged him in the ribs for a response.

“Never check your texts and emails while on vacation, that’s a rule I broke today,” he told her. “I’ll have to head over to England in a few days to clean up someone’s mess. You’re welcome to come along, and I hope that you will.”

He watched her go rigid and, for a moment, thought her reaction was to his proposal. Then he saw what she was staring at. Two rough-looking drunks were loitering near a trash can, tossing their beer bottles and sandwich wrappers toward the bins, but missing. They walked on past, leaving their trash on the cobblestones.

“Pick those up!” she yelled at the men.

Matt shook his head, remembering that night in Montreal. But with Vicki gone, he’d suddenly become – whether he liked it or not – her wingman. She had bragged to Matt back in Quebec that she was a badass. Now he was going to see if she really could walk the walk.

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

Eve might not have been sure which language the locals had just cursed her mother in, but Matt recognized them as angry drunks, not the fun and docile ones you could steer out the door or into a cab. These two had grown up fighting, and it felt as if tonight was going to be just another in a long line of them.

“That was impressive,” Matt uttered to Eve.

“What?” she asked as she moved her right foot back six inches to set her defensive stance, in case either of the drunks chose to charge them.

“How quickly you hit the rev limiter,” he answered. She took her eyes off the men who were staggering toward them, still uttering slurs and curses.

“A what?” she asked.

But by now, a noisy crowd had encircled the four