36
A Walk In The Park
We broke out of the terrorised human soup, news helicopters thumping overhead, a convoy of extra cop cars and ambulances wailing their way towards the Reichstag.
“Hey, what’s in Austria?” I asked again.
Philippe put me down. Dropped me, more like.
He swore in German, staring across the busy main road at a parked maintenance van. He looked up into the sky, removing his helmet and mask.
“What are you doing?” I asked. “You’ll blow your cover.”
“We’ve already been made,” he said. “The van across the street. The surveillance drones overhead. They’ll already have you on facial recog.”
I glanced up into the grey sky. Two black, bug-shaped objects the size of cats, with twin rotors buzzing either side. They were no more than thirty feet in the air. Clearly spying on u
