Without Options by Trevor Scott

the sensuous motion of the fly rod drifting over his back, the line flipping out effortlessly and the fly landing in the perfect spot on the river. She, on the other hand, had been hopelessly inept with a fly rod—catching more trees and grass than fish. Yet, Jake had remained patient with her. The mountains calmed him. It was no real surprise he had moved to Innsbruck, with the gorgeous surrounding mountains and the river running through the city. If Jake had to live in Europe, there was almost no better place for him. Vienna was a surprise, though. Jake must have been in love to move there. A great city, but not for Jake.
    They decided to stay the night at Jake’s place, Toni hoping the proximity to his stuff would give her some insight as to where he’d gone. She didn’t like it when Franz insisted she sleep in Jake’s bed, while he took the sofa with a blanket and pillow, but he was persuasive, saying he’d be getting plenty of rest soon enough when he was dead.
    As she lay in Jake’s bed, her eyes on his high ceiling, she could smell him, and that nearly drove her crazy. They’d both been fools over the years, spending more time considering the fate of their country than the destiny of their relationship. A relationship that no longer existed. Jake had moved on with Anna, and Toni had gotten married. And now she saw her husband about as much as she would have seen Jake. The closet was open and she noticed Jake’s favorite leather jacket hanging there. She got up and went to it, feeling through the pockets. Nothing. She ran her hands over the soft black leather, and thought of his strong arms and chest inside. She’d bought the jacket for him in Italy years ago. With great reluctance, she crawled back into bed and pulled the covers to her neck.
    Seconds later she heard footsteps coming down the hallway and she reached for her gun under the pillow. A light knock on the door.
    “Toni. You still awake?” It was Franz.
    “Yeah.”
    The door opened slowly. “Sorry to bother you,” he said, his head around the door but not looking in at her. “But I just got a call from my friend. They found the car Jake had taken from the Serbs.”
    “Where?”
    “Garmish.”
    She mulled that for a moment. “He’s not there.”
    “No, I agree. But could it give us a direction?”
    “I don’t know. Let me sleep on it.”
    He started to pull his head back but stopped and said, “Oh. He took out a German Polizei.”
    She shifted up onto her elbows. “He didn’t kill him.”
    “No. Just embarrassed the man. Dumped coffee on his lap and then knocked him out.”
    Laughing, Toni said, “Sounds like something Jake would do. Use what you have. Had the cop stopped Jake in the Serb’s car?”
    “No. It was early this morning at a bakery. The Polizei had found the car and ran the plates. He was calling it in when Jake took him out. Turns out the guy had been to one of Jake’s counter-terrorism lectures.”
    “What took so long for you to be notified?”
    “Well, Jake took the Serb car and hid it in a residential area. They only found it a few hours ago. Are you sure we shouldn’t go there?”
    “Yeah. He’s long gone.” But she had an idea which direction he might have traveled. “Let’s get some sleep and take off early in the morning.”
    “Wunderbar.” He closed her into the room alone.
    Now she had direction. Sleep came fast.

11
    Gustav Vogler got a call that a body had been found a few blocks from Karl-Marx-Strasse by a young woman walking her dog. That was an hour ago, when he still lay in bed with his newest girlfriend. He quickly showered, slapped a new nicotine patch onto his arm, shoved enough gum into his pants pockets to last all day, and jumped into his Polizei car. Not even time for coffee or food.
    Now he stood with his assistant, Andreas Grosskreuz, in deep thought as he gazed down at the body of the man in the center of the park. His stomach growled enough for his assistant to stare at Gustav’s