He had no name.  It had been taken from him over seventy years ago, along with his family, home, and life.  Alone on the darkening street, he tried to remember the pain of that loss, but couldn’t.  Emotions were irrelevant, now.  There was neither love, nor hate, need or want.  There was only the plan, and his part in it.  Walking to his rental car, shoe soles clopping on the brick in a regular rhythm, he reveled in the thought of the long drive back to the airport in Frankfurt.  In the car, away from the others, the voice in his head was his and his alone.

An old woman stepped onto the sidewalk from the stoop of a building, and he stopped to allow her to pass, holding the door for her as she smiled up at him.  He adjusted the hat on his mostly bal...

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