Tansy's back to her normal self the next morning. Her suitcases are packed and she's already in the dining room should they come looking for her. There's coffee there, sweet, black and steaming hot, and she's writing into a journal with a flowing, elegant hand. From the look of things, she's already filled quite a few pages, with the occasional sketch or footnote in the margins.

 

Gerhard comes downstairs with an appetite for breakfast and an even greater appetite for more information on their mission.  He bows to Tansy and asks if he may join her.  Behind him, the two nondescript men find tables, one near the kitchen and one near the entrance.

 

Lord Edward comes down as well, Joseph in tow with luggage, already confirming their arrangements for transport to the train station. 

 

"Good morning, good morning. Lovely day it looks to be, if hot for October. I trust you both slept well?" Edward seems to be in a good mood.

 

Tansy straightens as the Graf approaches and closes her journal. "Good morning, Gerhard. I take it that you slept well. And yes, please do join me. May I pour you some coffee? I'm afraid I take it sweet myself, but I can order another pot if that is not to your taste." She smiles. "And perhaps some sort of repast? I've already eaten, but my father has always enjoyed a large breakfast, to carry him until lunch, he says."

 

As her great-uncle approaches she stands to kiss him on the cheek again. "Good morning, sir. You look remarkably well. It's a good thing Father's secretaries aren't here, or they would have flocked around you as well."

 

"Good morning, Lord Edward," says Gerhard.  Smiling at Tansy, he replies, "I prefer tea in the morning, and and I agree with your father; a large breakfast is no more than prudent in uncertain times.  Whatever they have for breakfast in Turkey will be welcome."

 

Tansy muffles a laugh. "Tea, how English of you." She signals the waiter closer to place the order, then points out a buffet table against one wall. "There's bread, butter, jam and cheese, but also honey, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers and the like, even some eggs. Quite filling, if rathers strange. Ah, and the yougurt is sweetened and really rather..." She searches primly for a word. "Interesting."

 

Gerhard nods and goes to the buffet table, where he fills a plate with bread, butter, jam, eggs, cheese, and yogurt,  and a bowl with olives, tomatoes, and cucumbers.  "Salad for breakfast.  A new experience," he observes as he returns to his seat.

 

"Perhaps they like looking out for their clients' health," Tansy posits. "So. I looked up the route of our travels earlier. I do not know why the image persists in my mind that the city is located right on the seashore. Perhaps because it is such a romantic image."

 

"Most likely because of the Iliad," says Gerhard. 

 

The absence of rashers of bacon and poached fish seem to discomfit Edward, but he picks at the fruit before Joseph ushers the three of you (and the pair of watchers) to the train station. The train isn't quite English, much less German, in cleanliness, but it will have to do. The day passes slowly, watching the Turkish countyside roll by, eventually adding the ocean to the view as the train turns south. Lunch passes... adequately, but it's still not quite what you'd prefer. It's quite late in the afternoon, the autumn sun setting in a riot of red and orange over dark blue Mediterranean water as the train pulls into the town of Canakkale, some ten miles north of the dig site.

 

 

 

Tansy is by this time peering avidly out of the window, peering back and forth at the town's architecture as they pull into it. When she's actually on the platform, hand on her relative's arm, she's almost excitable again. "Look, Great-Uncle, isn't it lovely? I envy the Turkish, living in this postcard-perfect locale." She smiles at the other member of their party, then squeezes Lord Edward's arm. "Shall we go and see if they have a warm meal somewhere for us?"

 

Gerhard is equally pleased with the scenery, or perhaps he is just glad to be off the train.  In any case, he is looking around the platform with a smile.  "Yes, by all means."

 

"Perhaps something with a bit more kick to it than lunch? Don't think I didn't see the two of you looking at each other in the dining car today," Tansy says before she makes her excuses to wander down the platform a little, cane tapping. "Great-Uncle! Gerhard! Come and see this view! The sea looks like molten copper in the sunset!" She's never been overseas before, that's easy enough to see.

 

Joseph gathers luggage and hails two cars. This town doesn't have a hotel worthy of English gentry, but the best in town gets your business. Dinner will need to be at the restuarant across the street. The prices are steep, but the reason is clear as the sun sets and a ferry is seen coming in. This is a port to Greece. Dinner is broiled goat and fresh vegetables, over-cooked. But they have plenty of wine and beer.

 

Gerhard has never had goat before.  He tastes it with interest, nods in approval, and has two helpings, along with a (German) beer.

 

 

 

 Late that night as you prepare for bed, someone knocks at yours doors and announces himself. It's Joseph, bearing each of you a sealed letter with your name on it, in Lord Edward's handwriting. Joseph's only information is, "His Lordship instructed me to deliver these to you, in case of some emergency, you are instructed to break the seal and read it, not before."

 

"Emergency?" asks Gerhard.  He can see, over his shoulder, the door across the hall opening softly and one of his guards looking out.

 

 Joseph makes a pained expression look dignified. "He instructed me to say if there were an emergency, the contents of the letter would be of use, but not to consider them until necessary." Across the hall, the watcher's door hesitates a moment longer, then closes.

 

Gerhard starts to ask what, exactly, would constitute an emergency, then decides that he will probably be able to identify one if it occurs.  "Thank you," he says, and carefully tucks the envelope away.

 

Tansy stares blurrily at the envelope the maid brings her, then nods to allow Joseph entry. "Why could he not give this to us tomorrow morning, Joseph?" She hides the envelope in the back of her journal, and shoots the servant a mild look. "Is he planning on deserting us here?"

 

Joseph shrugs eloquently. "You know the Lordship as well as I, Miss Damara. He decided to have me deliver it now, to you and the Graf. Why is for him to say. I do know he is fast asleep at the moment. He appeared exhausted."

 

Tansy nods quietly and dismisses Joseph, getting in the last of her own sleep. When she wakes up in the morning, she's got her journal close to her and a motoring dress, ready for the early trip to the dig site. She's waiting in the hotel's lounge for her great-uncle to come down, anxiously eyeing the lift lobby for his familiar, frail form.

 

Edward makes an appearance, looking as wan and frail as ever, but the life is in his eyes as greets Tansy with a warm kiss on the cheek. "Breakfast well dear, this shall be a long day I fear. But one full of excitement!"

 

Breakfast is similar to Istanbul, though with a few trays of steamed rice and goat wrapped in grape leaves added.

 

Joseph goes out while you eat to secure two cars for the drive to the dig site.

 

Gerhard enjoys breakfast, but it is clear from the way his eyes keep lingering on Edward that he can hardly wait for the chance to question him about the mysterious envelopes.

 

That chance MAY come as Joseph returns after breakfast with news of two cars hired for the trip to the dig. Gerhard's 'watchers' will need to take the first car with Joseph and Tansy, Gerhard and Edward shall take the other. The road is only ten miles, but 'road' is a bit of a stretch in the description. It's gravel and hole that may have been a goat path at one point, until the goats gave up.

 

Gerhard restrains his questions to "Shall we be returning to the hotel at night, or are there quarters for us at the dig?"

 

"They know we are coming, due to a cable I sent both to their academic sponsors and directly to them via my nephew's office, but I don't believe an archaeological dig is a suitable place for Tansy to spend the night. Even if they have the resources, I would rather return to the town for the night. The total trip will be less than an hour, road permitting." Edward nibbles lightly at his food, seeming not terribly hungry this morning.

 

Gerhard nods in agreement, finishes his breakfast, and goes outside to stretch his legs and look over the area -- and the cars -- until the others are ready to go.

 

Tansy's ready and waiting at the first car, leaning on her cane and with a scarf wrapped around her hair.

 

With no one arguing or debating, the cars are entered and the drive commences. It's a mild October day, but still the sun is hot and the dust from the forward car obscures a fair bit of the 'road' on the drive to the dig. You had a fairly early start and it is still early when the forward vehicle pulls to a stop with the tents of the dig still a good ways ahead. Joseph gets out of the forward car and quickly approaches your vehicle as the studiously neutral men with him move forward, cautiously.

 

"Milord," says Joseph to Edward, "There is a small... obstruction. The men assigned to the Graf are investigating but we should, ah, possibly 'spare' Milady if we might?"

 

It's 'milady' though who notices the absence. With the cars stopped, the silence is oppressive, save a faint buzz. No picks or shovels, no sounds of labor. Just a faint but heavy buzz to the air.

 

Tansy's already sitting up straight, and her head is turned to the place where sound should be, but isn't. Her hand goes to the seat in front of her and she sits up, slowly getting out and fumbling her cane into place. "Wait!" she hisses to the unobtrusive men. "There's something wrong, something missing..." Her face betokens her confusion and nervousness as she turns around to look at her great-uncle and the Graf, before she looks forward again, and takes a step in that direction.

 

The dig site is silent. No one speaks or works. The two military guards are standing by a collapsed figure on the road. Flies crawl over the exposed skin, but they cannot hide the boils on his exposed skin or fact that the man is dead. They nod at Tansy and wave her back as they cautiously check the body, prodding it with one booted toe, dislodging a small cloud of flies.

 

Gerhard move toward the body the guards are examining, to see for himself any evidence of what happened to the bodies or how long they have been dead.

 

Lord Edward hisses, "We're too late..."

 

From the body, a click is heard over the buzzing of flies...

 

"Move back!" says Gerhard at the sound.  A booby trap? Explosives?

 

 The grenade detonates. Both military men, selected for blending in and streetwise activities die immediately. Gerhard is mostly shielded by them, and takes only a minor wound to one leg.

 

Gerhard curses vividly in German and backs away, limping. "Stay away from the bodies," he says between clenched teeth.  "We will have to find any more traps before we can do anything else."

 

He looks around the area for any sign of enemies or clues, and to make sure nothing happens to their cars ...

 

The drivers of both cars, in a torrent of what certainly sounds like Turkish profanity, are attempting to get the cars in gear and turned around to get away.

 

Edward is struggling out of the car, much to the anger of the driver who is trying to get away.

 

"Lord Edward! Don't let them leave or we'll be trapped here!" shouts Gerhard.  He tries to move faster toward the cars.

 

"He can't speak Turkish," Tansy says with the kind of calm that indicates she's a) got a really good grip on herself or b) will probably collapse with shock soon. Then, lifting her voice, she calls back to the drivers. It's the same language as they're speaking, and whatever she's saying is designed as a verbal slap against the face. She's moving as she does so, trying to get to her relative.

 

The drivers are a bit stunned, but they settle, cars askew on what passes for a road, looking nervous. Edward steps toward the body, which had been thrown by the grenade a foot or two, the torso fairly shredded by the blast. He looks intently at the face, eyes narrowed.

 

"I believe this was one of the senior assistants..." his eyes narrow and he whispers words... subtle words. His eyes snap open. "Get in the cars," he whispers urgently. "Get back to town, gather your things and head south. Search for fire, and war. At the locus of those two you will find the next artifact. I must... contain this. Joseph? bring my satchel. Tansy... if I do not find you again, give my nephew my regards. Gerhard... protect her, block the Horsemen's actions or this age will never recover, the end will arrive. This plague is but a harbiger." He swallows roughly, then straightens his jacket and Joseph brings along an ancient looking leather satchel. "Go, before this miasma spreads."

 

Gerhard balances with most of his weight on one leg.  "Lord Edward, if you understand what has happened here, we need to know also," he says as calmly as possible under the circumstances.  "And certainly we cannot leave you here, with no car, and with --" he gestures -- "this."

 

"Impossible," Tansy declares, but she's trembling slightly. "If it's a plague, we've already been exposed to it, and like it or not, I am not leaving you." She snaps her head around. "You go, Graf. Take one of the cars and the drivers."

 

"This," he says to you both, "is an unnatural plague. A plague carried by the Air, but Water is both message and messenger. Healer and Victim. I shall contain the disease here, but it shall take time. Time the Horsemen will use to find the Talisman of Fire. Take one car then, and both drivers, but you will leave Damara. This is not a request from a feeble Uncle, but a directive from a superior. If they have Plague, they will use it, hopefully surgically, but possibly indiscriminately. Time is of the essence. Fire can burn out a Plague, Water can neutralize it's effects, and Earth can absorb it. Now remember what I've told you. Fire, South and War. Water to the West, Healing, Messages. Earth- North, Death, Home. No go before it's too late for me to attempt this. My first actions will be to cleanse you both, then this site... if I can."

 

Tansy opens her mouth to reply, but snaps it back shut pretty quickly when he uses her first name, and she nods curtly. "As you wish, sir. Do what you can then, and the Graf and I will be gone to scout locations."

 

"I take it this is the emergency you feared," says Gerhard to Lord Edward. "If we only take one car, will you be able to drive the other?  Those drivers are clearly not to be depended upon even if one of them could be persuaded to stay."

 

 "Joseph can drive if need be. As for emergencies..." Lord Edward looks grim as only an old English aristocrat can. "I feared that we were late, despite our rapid start. But Air, while swift, does not provide knowledge. Knowledge, wits, perseverence. South, war, and fire. Follow omens and don't be afraid to be afraid. These could be the end days of all the world..."

 

Gerhard looks from Lord Edward to Joseph and back again, then sighs.  "We will do what we can," he says, and starts limping toward one of the cars.

 

Tansy moves forward to gently kiss her great-uncle on each cheek, then makes her slow way back to the car the Graf hopefully picked out by now, making sure that her things are transferred over if need be. "Let us away."

 

Gerhard isn't moving any too fast himself with a wounded leg, but he has their luggage settled in one of the cars and is looking daggers at its driver by the time Tansy is ready to leave.  "I do not speak Turkish either," he says quietly to Tansy, "so you will have to deal with the driver."

 

Lord Edward gives his great-niece a return peck on the cheek and opens the old and battered valaise as your driver, twitchy and very unhappy turns the car about. The two drivrs sit up front muttering as you pull away. The wound in Gerhard's leg isn't bad if rested, but each move brings forth a small seep of blood that is darkening his pant's leg.

 

Halfway through the drive back, a tingling pass over folks in the car, prompting the driver to stop suddenly. Gerhard's leg, though still wrapped in blood-soaked cloth, has been healed.

 

"What was that?" says Gerhard.  He looks hastily around the area through the car's windows.  "Has something else happened?"  Then he realizes that his abrupt movement of surprise did not hurt.

 

The woman beside him turns to take a look at the dig site that's no longer visible. "That was presumably my great-uncle," she mutters, hands strangling a handkerchief on her lap as she tries to ignore the buzz up the back of her neck. "I... what is the plan? I'm afraid that it's rather difficult to think straight right now. And you without your men too, oh dear..."

 

Gerhard takes a deep breath.  "They are dead. They were murdered.  It seems that your uncle knows who murdered them and has sent us to deal with them.  And to do other things, which I do not entirely understand.  The first thing, I think, is to go back to the hotel and prepare, quickly, for a long journey to the south.  After that -- I wonder if it will not be time to open those envelopes."

 

He looks to see what time of day it is.

 

"Yes, I was there. I saw them die." Tansy turns her head away, looking sick. "I don't know. We are in a tight situation, but I don't know if it's a true emergency yet." Then, in an effort to get something to do, she leans forward to speak to the drivers in their own native language, voice calm and soothing, trying to talk them back down to earth.

 

The sun still hasn't reached the vault of the sky for noon, yet this day seems endless. The drivers take you to the hotel and they seems to be discussing how, or when, to make a run back for the second car, or to wait for the 'English' and if so, how long.

 

"Make sure they do not leave without us," Gerhard asks Tansy.  "How long will it take you to pack?  And is the hotel bill paid? And what is the nearest transportation that will take us south? ... And what population centers?  'South' is so vague."

 

Tansy sits staring forward as they arrive, and she doesn't acknowledge the order and questions that Gerhard spits at her at first, thinking. Then, coldly, "Which of your questions do you want me to answer first, sir? If you're going to be treating me like your subordinate at least have the grace to do so in a clear fashion."

 

Gerhard stares at her, clearly baffled, then with a hint of annoyance.

 

Then he sighs and his face goes politely expressionless.  "Lady Damara, I beg your pardon for any offense I may have caused you.  However, since Lord Edward seems to think this matter is urgent, I would like to vacate this place as quickly as possible."  He counts off points on his fingers.  "Since I do not speak Turkish, I suggest that you ensure that our transportation and the drivers do not disappear."  He counts off a second point. "Since I was not involved in the arrangements for the hotel, I thought that you, Lord Edward's niece, might know of whether the hotel bill was paid and if so, for how long."  A third finger.  "I also thought you might know more about local transportation and geography than I do, since you could hardly know less."

 

He pauses and waits for her reply.

 

"In order, then. I will be more than happy to arrange for transport to wherever we need to go with the concierge, should that be necessary," Tansy begins. "I was not involved with the arrangements for the transport. Joseph took care of it. I have enough currency to pay for the bill if it has not been paid, and I suggest that you arrange our check-out, if you wish to leave that urgently. I suggest that we get a look at the day's papers, however, these might give us an idea as to what is going on. I have a feeling that it might mean Africa, or northern Africa in particular. Perhaps in Egypt or Libya? And as to your last, no, unfortunately not. English ladies do not arrange their own transport, they have servants for that. A fact that I rue now, I assure you."

 

Gerhard bows formally.  "Yes, let us first look at the papers.  I suggest that I read the English and German ones, leaving you free to read the Turkish ones.  Once we decide on a destination, then I will arrange the check-out if you will arrange transport.  I do indeed want to leave as quickly as possible, because your uncle said that haste was needed -- and because if there is danger, it may reach us if we do not hurry ahead of it."

 

He pauses with a thoughtful look on his face.  "Egypt," he says musingly.  "I wonder if that will be our destination.  It does, after all, have a Biblical tradition of plague."

 

"It has a history of just about everything, I'm afraid," Tansy sighs before she struggles out of the car. She goes to have a word with the drivers, smiling gently up at them, before making for the hotel, heading for her room to pack. Once that's done she sends the trunks down, making for the small lounge to eye the day's selection of papers.

 

Sparse, as this is not Paris or London but a backwater of Turkey. Still, several Greek papers only a day old and a sheet from Alexandria just under a week old.

 

Tansy takes to the Greek papers with relief and scans them quickly with a classically trained eye, then the sheet from Alexandria.

 

The Greek papers are talking up the recent government revolution in Greece, and Metaxas' new policy changes. Italy is making overtures to the new regime, but so far they are being ignored as the government assumes control of the Universities. The Alexandria paper has a bit on the bottom of the front page on Italy as well. More specifically, the Italian conquest in Ethiopia and issues with transport of Italian troops through Egypt.

 

Gerhard goes first to his room to pack.  He examines the room as carefully as his late bodyguards could have wished, and wonders if Lady Damara remembered to do the same.  Taking his small amount of luggage downstairs, he speaks to the concierge about checking out, along with Lady Damara.  "Lord Edward has been unexpectedly called away," he explains.

 

The front desk has an account number for a London bank with which to settle the bill and they will do so for you with a signature.

 

Gerhard signs, then goes to find Lady Damara.

 

Tansy's still in the lounge, waiting on her companion. As she looks up to spot him, she nods to the chair next to hers. "The biggest thing that I can see," she mutters sotto voce, "is about the Italian conquest in Ethiopia and issues with the transport of Italian troops through Egypt. Apparently Italy is making overtures to the new regime in Greece, but so far they're being ignored as the government consolidates their hold over the universities first."

 

Gerhard sits down. "I settled the bill with a signature, to your uncle's bank I presume," he says.  "Ethiopia?  I do not know anything about the place.  Will we cross the Mediterranean, or go around by land?"

 

Tansy nods shortly. "He should have arranged for your signature to be accepted. And really, I've no idea. I've never had to travel before, unless you're talking about the distance from the estate to London." She stares up at him, frustrated. "Since we have little time, perhaps I had better ask you this. I am a physical liability, but I am committed to this task. Will you be able to deal with a cripple that's trying her best? I won't give up, but it might get trying. If you are, I think we need to get to Egypt by the fastest means possible, which means a plane. At least once we get there, we might have a decent idea of what to do closer to the trouble spot."

 

Gerhard is silent for a short space.  "I do not think," he says slowly, "that you are any more of a liability than I.  If ancient languages are needed -- or modern languages other than European ones -- then you will be the one with the necessary skills.  If physical activities are needed, then I will do what I can.  In short, it will take two of us to have even a small chance to succeed."  He pauses.  "And I gave my word to your uncle to protect you."  He pauses again.  "I am sorry if that angers you.  You appear to be easily angered by such things.  Nevertheless, I did give my word."

 

"Unless you can pilot a plane, we will have to hire a pilot," he observes, returning to the subject.  "Do you know where the nearest airfield would be?  Or should I ask the concierge?"

 

"My weakness frustrates me, and it appears I've not yet learnt the lesson about helping hands. I'm sorry too, Graf." Tansy struggles slowly to her feet. "Let's go and speak to the concierge." As an olive branch, she waits to take his arm should he offer it, then makes for said concierge, questioning him in rapid Greek as to the next flight out of here heading more or less in Egypt's direction, and how they can book two tickets on it, or charter one if there is really no other alternative.

 

Gerhard offers his arm to Tansy and and lets his eyes wander watchfully around the room, resting often on the concierge.  His Greek is by no means equal to following their conversation, but he watches the concierge for any sign of shiftiness, as well as any other person showing interest in their business.

 

The concierge reluctantly informs you that the options for travel from town are rather limited. There is the train, which can take you back to Istanbul, or onwards to Izmir, Antalya, and other points south and east. There are overland  roads, though few hireable cars. There is the ferry that will take you to Athens. If you wish to fly, Athens or Istanbul are your best choices. Athens will be moderately quicker, as the ferry will not be stopping in towns along the way, but you will need to deal with immigration papers in Athens. "A minor headache," he assures you.

 

Tansy stares sideways at Gerhard. "Train or ferry? We can book a plane from either Istanbul or Athens, I am sure; Athens may be faster, but there's immigration to deal with. Istanbul sounds like it's straight on. Do you have a British passport?"

 

"Yes," Gerhard replies.  "I see advantages to both cities.  Istanbul would mean we would not have to draw official notice or show papers.  Athens is faster.  And possibly safer, because once the ferry leaves the dock, we cannot be intercepted until we reach there.   At least not by any human means," he adds.

 

She squeezes his arm gently to signal her understanding and turns to the concierge again, making rapid arrangements for three places on the ferry, taking note of all the arrangements before she turns away. "I will send my maid back to England from Athens. If we are to move swiftly, I can't afford all the fuss. We should also be able to procure a light hunting bow there, perhaps. My aim is sure, though my arms do not have much strength. Still, I posit an arrow through the eye will distract anyone, and I will have you to protect me, not so?"

 

"I will endeavor to protect you from ordinary danger, " says Gerhard, "but I know nothing about the danger that we are facing now."  He smiles slightly. "Both of our choices of weapons are ... unusual.  Perhaps I should have learned to use a pistol instead of a sword."

 

"I know how to use a pistol too," Tansy informs, colouring a little. "Perhaps not the traditional exploits of a well-bred lady. Would that I could pilot a plane too, but that would be going beyond the pale. I am not Miss Earhart, after all. But I must away, if we are to pack and move soon." With that said, she makes for her room, there to pack and, if possible, have the grace of praying for her uncle's safety in privacy.

 

"I will wait here," says Gerhard," as I have already packed."  He gives his slight smile again. "As for traditional exploits, I would suggest that you pick off our enemies at a distance, and I will dispose of any who get within my reach."  He stands and bows as she departs.

 

Tansy returns a while later with her maid in tow and a few bags, one of which she keeps to herself as she waves the woman on to the car. With a nod she signals her readiness to depart to the Graf.

 

Gerhard gathers up his luggage -- a bag, a valise, and a wooden case -- and follows her.

 

 The afternoon ferry does have space for three passengers. Indeed, three northern Europeans do not even stand out much from the bustle. The small ship will not arrive into the Athens dock until well after sunset, but the concierge has given you names of three hotels near the waterfront that should be adequate for your needs. At least one, he has assured you, should have rooms for you.

 

The trip is, as surmised, boring if scenic. The Aegean Sea is crowded with small islands of picturesque beauty and the blue waters almost feel alive with the voices of the ancient Greek mariners. The sun sets in a blaze of fire to the west and some short time later, the lights of Athens are seen approaching.

 

Gerhard almost seems to forget their problems and questions during the trip.  He admires the scenery and wishes aloud that they could visit the islands.  "And perhaps one could sail," he says.  "It is a shame to see all this beauty, and not appreciate it as it should be."

 

Disembarking is a fairly trivial affair, though the government immigration agents are quite strict, if fair and impartial.

 

"Did the concierge give us directions to the hotels?" murmurs Gerhard.  "If not, I suggest we ask the immigration agents."

 

Tansy takes the time on the ferry to update her journal so far, ocassionally sharing pretty sights with the Graf or her maid. "To think that Atlantis was once here somewhere." As they disembark, she shakes her head. "Not yet. Perhaps you could hire us a taxi as conveyance? Once done, I can arrange with the concierge to make arrangements for the flight tomorrow."

 

Gerhard looks around for a likely looking taxi, preferably one whose driver speaks a language he understands.  If he finds one, he directs him to the first hotel on the list.

 

 

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