Book 4, Heimdallr
Chapter 22THE NEXT MORNING, BURTON Crane let the taxi driver take him for a ride that lasted hours and brought them to the black cinders of a burned-out barn.
There were large-caliber shells in droves by the track, and he slipped one into his pocket when the driver was looking elsewhere. Everything he did openly would find its way back to the Sigurimi.
His cover as a reporter was wearing thin.
Crane walked back to Engel Vorbsi and his green Toyota, pondering his options. As the diligent reporter he pretended to be, collecting atmosphere, he jotted down the letters scratched on the hood of the taxi: JA QIFSKA NANON.
The boiling Toyota rocked them slowly towards the main road with all its windows open.
“A friend of mine is staying in Hoxha’s summerhouse, somewhere eas
