CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
Reid slowed the motorcycle as he approached the Macicka Club, but he did not stop. He cruised on for another block and turned down an alley, stowing the red and black sports bike among a collection of metal trash cans. He separated the ignition wires and replaced the plastic plate, and then hiked quickly back toward the club.
After he hotwired the motorcycle he had found in the parking garage in Bratislava, it had taken him only twenty minutes to reach Staremesto. He stopped just long enough to ask for directions at a twenty-four-hour convenience store from a cashier behind a plate of thick glass, and then another five minutes to find the club.
While Bratislava was a city rich in history, culture, and architecture, Staremesto was like the runoff thereof. It seemed as
