Free The Falstaff Enigma by Ben Brunson Page A

Western European clothing. I hope you find my choices acceptable. I simply put the picture of the stereotypical New York or London banker in my mind and went to it.”
    "In that case, I'm sure everything will be fine," Austin felt laughter in his voice for the first time that day. In minutes he had showered and was fully clothed in high quality apparel that he was relieved to see and feel. Kemp had spared no expense.
    "Now," Kemp continued, "we are going to eat dinner and while we do I want you to collect your thoughts. Afterwards, we're getting down to business."
    Suddenly Austin’s eyes widened. “My wife.” It was a whisper, but Kemp heard it clearly. The next words were out loud. “I have to call her.”
    Kemp silently chided himself. “Yes, we must let her know you’re okay. But I have no phone here and I don’t want you outside just yet.”
    “She is thinking that I’m dead. She knows I am in Ankara. By now someone from the government has probably called to tell her I am missing.”
    “I understand and I agree that she needs to know.” Kemp paused and exhaled, thinking through his next words. “Let’s do this. I will call her and let her know you are safe. But I will let her know that she must keep this information quiet until she hears from you.” In return, Austin gave him a look that was at once both quizzical and accusational. Kemp did not wait for the objection. “You have to put your trust in me right now. We have a major problem. We don’t know what is going on. For all we know, you were the target of this.” The words hit Austin like a punch. He had never considered this possibility. “We have only one advantage. No one knows if you are alive or dead and no one knows you are with me.”
    “The sniper knows,” Austin corrected.
    “A sniper?” Kemp asked.
    Austin shook his head from side to side. “Yes, there was a sniper. It’s a long story.”
    “Well, hold off for now.” Kemp was skeptical, but kept his feelings to himself. “Whoever this sniper was may or may not have known who you were,” Kemp responded. “Besides, he and his team are on the run now. Depending on who they are, he may very well have reported that no one escaped.”
    “Who are ‘they’?”
    “Don’t know yet. But we will figure this all out in time. Now back to your wife. I need her name, a personal detail to prove that I am for real and her phone numbers.” Austin provided the information the field agent needed. Kemp took care of this detail while Austin enjoyed his first real meal since leaving Maryland.

11 - Analysis
     
    "Was that enough for you?" The question came mechanically from Kemp's lips as he cleaned the wooden table where the analyst had just eaten. The meal had consisted of sausage, soup from a jar, and several slices of dark bread covered liberally with butter and jam.
    "Yes. Thank you." Austin had not reacted to the food on a pleasure basis; he had eaten only to satisfy the immediate sensation of hunger, and that had been accomplished. Austin approached eating on such a coldly rational basis only when he was deeply involved in a project. Now he felt that this project would mean life or death. "Let's get to it, Mr. Kemp. I need your reaction to the events of the past couple of weeks."
    "Good. I was wondering what your attitude would be toward this. You've just made it much easier for me." Kemp walked over to one of the suitcases, opened it and pulled out a notebook and pen.
    "Where should I start?" Austin asked.
    "First, I want you to recount the events of today starting with your arrival in Ankara. I want you to take your time and include as much detail as you can. Remember: nothing is too trivial."
    Austin began to relate the events of the day. He searched his mind for every detail and held nothing back. He mentioned the American-educated driver, the guard with his loaded weapon, Ridgeway's knowledge of Austin's background, everything he could recall. It took him about twenty minutes to get to