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Adam hailed a taxi out the front of the hotel and motioned to Mitch who was walking up and down the sidewalk talking on his phone to John.
Adam gave the driver the address for Franz Schmid’s residence in Panke. Mitch finished his call and hung up.
“All okay?” Adam asked.
Mitch nodded. “John’s just had a sighting of Julian called in by one of the local police here.” Mitch was choosing his words carefully, not knowing if the driver spoke English. Dressed in jeans and pullovers, Mitch and Adam could have been tourists or men here on business and he didn’t want to give the impression of being anything more threatening.
“Where?” Adam asked.
“It’s a rented apartment; he’s sending through the address and has asked for local back-up to keep watch. I don’t think we’re going to get anything
