Having a couple of hours of quiet by himself was probably a good thing. It made Kurt feel like maybe he had his s**t in a sack and under control. The videos feeds showed very little movement as night settled fully on the city.
His phone rang. It was Hubert.
“Ma’am,” he answered.
“The photos show blueprints for the O2 arena there in Prague. We think they have plans for blowing it up,” said Hubert without prelude. “Well done.”
“Do we know when?”
“In three days a hockey match is scheduled for the HC Sparta Praha. The attendance is supposed to be near capacity. We suspect that’s the event they want to use. And we have another problem.”
“What’s that?”
“The tech team hacked an email address that was listed on one of the sheets of paper. It contained a photo of Morido and Harrison. I need
