Chapter One

The frigid November winds made contact with my face, altering my naturally pale cheeks to a bright red, as they burnt from the cold. Despite my warm parka, dark green with faux fur on the hood, and booties made for temperatures like today, I was shivering, every inch of my skin covered in goosebumps. I should have known better and worn layers or perhaps a scarf. One would think that I would have been more prepared, given that I had been here in Cologne for nearly a year now.

Why had I even moved and become stationed in Cologne? The answer; saving lives.

Following my completion of the University of Kentucky’s medical program in 1979, I went on to study surgery, spending the next five years of my life getting a once and a lifetime education for someone of my background. I had been destined to take over my father’s Thoroughbred horse racing dream: breeding, raising, and training Breeder’s Cup winning champions for generations to come. Although I loved the atmosphere, I hated the cruelty behind the people in the horse racing business and foresaw no future being a part of it. So I studied hard and found my way into medical school.

During my 5th year of surgical residence in 1984, I was moved to a more luxurious teaching hospital in Berlin to study for my fellowship as a trauma specialist a couple years later. Given my impeccable grades, I was the perfect choice. Berlin wanted me. And so I left everything behind; my family, my horses, and everything comforting and familiar to move to a beautiful, foreign country and start anew.

I was approached by a tall and burly man roughly a month into my residence in Berlin. People from America were being monitored coming into foreign countries, specifically those with high end education. American spies were needed at this time and with the deterioration of the Soviet Union and greater threat of a nuclear war, America needed eyes and ears everywhere. With my education, both medical and technological, I was a perfect match for this specific setup in Cologne. I could easily provide the small undercover unit with the expertise they needed.

I wanted to say no, oh God how I wanted to say no, but there was no denying the CIA and this man. I was removed from my surgical residence within the week and on a short flight to Cologne the following Monday, where I was moved into a small apartment and I remained alone for weeks, not hearing from anyone or being in the loop of anything.

I spent my time admiring the city and making my new home less depressing. The apartment was small and provided very little warmth, leading me to sleep with four blankets plus a duvet at night, making me all the more homesick for my familiar Kentucky winters. There was nothing special about my new home except the balcony, which provided a wonderful view of Cologne and its beautiful sunsets, rays of sunlight glistening over the river each night.

Things had grown quiet in the following months before we were all called to meet at my apartment one evening in late June. Evgeni Ivanov, a supposed double agent working secretly for the US, had turned out to be a not-so-double agent after all. Information of American nuclear technology and tactics had been leaked to Russian enemies the last few months and we had just gotten word of the betrayal. I began to direct and suggest strategies to find our foe, searching relentlessly with the limited technology that we had. We were restricted, being such a small group, even if it was 1984 in Germany. Everyone needed eyes at the back of their heads in these darker times. I struggled to comprehend the danger I had gotten myself into and why I stayed, instead of fleeing. July rolled around and I found my reason.

His name was Leon. Roughly six foot two and drop dead gorgeous, he was the most beautiful man I had ever laid eyes on with warm, whiskey coloured hair and a mature disposition. Nearly everything about him was alluring. His morals, however, were questionable. He was a highly trained hitman, born and raised in Germany like his father before him.

The colour of his eyes were such an intensely cold blue that when you had his gaze, their cold could nearly paralyse you, even stop your heart from beating for a moment. His solemn brows and matching facial expressions were offset immediately. His eyes weren’t always dangerous despite their intense nature. Instead, they could be sensual, or fervent or sympathetic. Sometimes they were all that at once. The minute he was introduced, I found it hard to believe that a such an attractive man with eyes that spoke in wavelengths and altered entire atmospheres could belong to a murderer.

I was trained to save lives and he was trained to end them.

Ich bekomme Schauer


Next Chapter: Chapter Two