Free The Enemy by Tom Wood Page A

phone to the blasting caps and using a second phone to trigger the bomb, but Victor wasn’t keen on that idea unless he had no other choice. Such a bomb would require him to be in visual contact with the target at the time of detonation, which not only limited where the bomb could be placed, but also forced Victor to be in close proximity to the assassination. That and the fact that the one time Victor needed full service could very well be the exact moment when he had zero bars.
    From the information supplied, however, Victor had a rough plan in mind.
    For his stay in Berlin Farkas had rented out the penthouse in a block of luxury holiday apartments. He would have an entourage with him – anything between three and five of his mob subordinates – all of whom, based on Farkas’s previous trips abroad, would stay in the penthouse too. There was no intelligence on whether or not they would be armed.
    The weather was cold but sunny in Berlin when Victor passed the apartment building. It was a grand structure in the heart of Prenzlauer Berg, one of Berlin’s most desirable districts. Four beautiful stone storeys rose from the street with one subterranean level beneath. Maybe two or three apartments per floor with a single penthouse.
    Victor spent a while exploring Prenzlauer Berg, both routinely checking for surveillance and to get a feel for the area he would be operating within. It had escaped much of the devastation of the Second World War and so had been mercifully spared the post-war development the rest of the city had endured. What was built in the late nineteenth century as a working-class district was now a very affluent part of Berlin. There were many tasteful bars and restaurants, high-end fashion boutiques, delicatessens and cafés. Victor could see why a wealthy Hungarian gangster would choose to stay in this part of the city.
    He took a seat outside a café bustling with people on their lunch hour. Clothes stores and eateries lined the leafy street. Opposite him was the metro station, particularly clean even by Berlin’s high standards. Hewatched the people going about their days, especially the men in their early and mid thirties in their casual-but-stylish clothing.
    After he’d finished his iced tea, Victor walked to a department store and perused the men’s clothing section. A slim young guy asked if he could be of assistance.
    Victor said, ‘I’m going for casual, but stylish.’
    He dismissed anything too bright or anything he would look too good in, much to the young man’s confusion. He settled on two pairs of dark jeans, some patterned button-down shirts, a cream sweater, and a tan blazer, all loose fitting. He also picked up underwear, loafers, a leather shoulder bag, designer sunglasses and a pre-pay phone from different stores.
    Victor’s modest hotel was three stops along the line. He wanted to be close to where Farkas was staying, but far enough away that he would have the opportunity to conduct counter surveillance if he needed to take a direct route. In his single room, Victor changed into his new clothes. Suits were his preferred clothing for urban environments, but wearing one would make him stand out in Prenzlauer Berg, where men his age opted for more bohemian attire.
    Earlier, he’d noted there were two possible locations from which to conduct surveillance – a chic coffee shop on the same side of the street as the apartment building, and a cocktail bar on the opposite side of the road. He entered the bar, bought a still lemonade with a slice of lime and sat outside.
    The view wasn’t a perfect one but he could see the entrance to the building, and the bar justified his presence for what could potentially be many hours over several days. He took out a small notebook and pen and placed them on the table next to his drink. He made a record of anyone who entered or exited the building, and waited for someone who met his requirements. He was hoping to spot someone who looked like he or