Carlton joined Annalise and Nolan, and they made for the hotel. Nolan went inside and requested the Bergkamp Suite from his friend at the front desk. She gave him a puzzled look and pulled a keycard from an envelope in a drawer, separate from the rest.

“Number 236,” she said, dispassionately.

“Thank you,” Nolan replied, and she waved him off and went back to her magazine.

The room looked identical to the one Nolan had been in with Madeline, although, as promised, the dresser drawers and closet were filled with clothes. The room also had a mini-fridge, in which they found bottled water and sports drinks. Each of the trio sucked down a water and a sports drink with a label in Bulgarian. It tasted like knockoff Gatorade, but as drained as they were, they’d have emptied a warm fifty-five- gallon drum of the stuff if they’d had the chance.

Nolan and Carlton changed out of their clothes into drier, and more casual gear. They also found shoeboxes piled atop the shelf above the hangers, from which they pulled name-brand cross-training shoes in a variety of sizes. Nolan’s weren’t a perfect fit, but they definitely beat bare feet.

Annalise stripped naked right in the center of the room and pulled on a plain blue t-shirt. None of the women’s clothing fit her 5-foot-11 frame, so she put on a pair of men’s cargo shorts, pulling the belt all the way through to the last hole before they had a chance at staying up. She had to settle for the same shoes Nolan and Carlton wore.

After changing and using the bathroom, they made their way back to the street, to the café recommended by Madeline. They selected a table far from the door, in a corner. Annalise and Carlton faced the street and Nolan had a clear view of the door leading to the kitchen. Both exits, and entries, were accounted for.

“Would it be wrong to order one of everything?” Annalise asked.

“I think we can afford it,” Nolan said, pulling the cash from his pocket to remind her.

They ate hearty meals of noodles and beef, reminiscent of the goulash of their neighbors to the north.

“Can we trust her?” Annalise asked, referring to the woman they’d left alone with Canaan.

“A Titan has never let me down,” Nolan responded. “I owe my life to them, many times over. If he says she’s our ticket out of here, I ride with him.”

As they ate, people came and went, a steady dinner crowd. One small, nondescript man with thinning brown hair sat nearby, slowly nursing a bowl of soup.

“That chap’s been working on that same bowl of soup for quite a while,” Carlton observed.

“I don’t like him either,” Annalise agreed. “I thought maybe he was your grandfather, Nolan.”

“Nah, I’m the only Weston who ever traveled more than twenty miles from where he was born. But anyway, secret admirers aside, do we really bed down tonight in that ‘Bergkamp Suite’? Aren’t we sitting ducks?”

“Hopefully Canaan emerges with some sort of plan,” Annalise said. “Otherwise, we go get the rifles once the streets are quiet and we find another room. Sleep in shifts.”

The trio agreed to the plan and exited the restaurant, walking back across the street, only to notice the man from inside the café leaning against a wall, smoking. None of them had noticed him leave before they did, but he must have.

“I don’t like him,” Nolan said, and Carlton nodded in agreement. Carlton split away from the group and approached the man, checking for the street for anyone watching.

“Can I help you with something, mate?” Carlton asked, when he got within earshot. When the man didn’t appear to have heard him, he raised his voice. “English, mate?”

The man cleared his throat, then took another drag from his cigarette. His voice was rumbly, as if he were speaking from deep in a well.

“Ya, English is good,” he answered in a thick Eastern European accent.

“Disappear, alright? I don’t want to see you again around here,” Carlton said.

“Do I make you nervous?” the old man asked, with a wry smile.

“A comedian, eh?” Carlton responded. “Just get lost.”

Annalise and Nolan stopped to watch the exchange from a block away.

“Don’t worry,” the strange little man answered. “I’ll keep your secret.”

“Secret?” a startled Carlton replied.

“I knew your father,” the man said. “We met when you were very young. You wouldn’t remember.”

With that, the old man turned and walked briskly away, into the darkness of a pair of shuttered stores.

“Oi!” Carlton called after him, but the old man kept moving. Suddenly, Nolan was at Carlton’s side.

“Are we good?” Nolan asked, his hand on Carlton’s shoulder.

A spooked Carlton responded in the affirmative, and he walked with Nolan and Annalise, looking back to see the street empty where the old man had been walking.