Lazarus Protocol

Chapter 2: The Chase Begins

Alexander emerged from the Friedrichstraße station into the bustling heart of Berlin, his senses immediately assaulted by the cacophony of city life. The acrid smell of vehicle exhaust mingled with the enticing aroma of freshly baked pretzels from a nearby stand. Trams clanged their way down the street, competing with the constant hum of traffic and the babble of a hundred conversations in a dozen languages.

He paused for a moment, letting the flow of pedestrians part around him like a river around a stone. His eyes, sharp despite his confusion, scanned the area for any sign of pursuit. Nothing yet, but he couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked just out of sight, waiting for him to let his guard down.

A digital clock on a nearby bank building caught his attention. 2:17 PM. The numbers meant nothing to him, but they sparked a sudden, visceral urgency. Time was running out, though for what, he couldn't say.

Alexander started walking, letting instinct guide his feet. He needed to think, to plan, but the streets were too exposed. His gaze fell on a small café across the street, its interior dim and inviting. Perfect.

As he waited for a break in traffic to cross, a newspaper stand caught his eye. The headlines blared in bold German, incomprehensible to him, but the date was clear enough: August 15, 2024. The information sent a chill down his spine. How long had he been... wherever he'd been? What had happened to him?

The light changed, and Alexander crossed with the crowd, slipping into the café. The interior was cool and dark, a welcome respite from the summer heat outside. He chose a table in the corner, his back to the wall, with a clear view of both the entrance and the rear exit. Old habits, he supposed, though he couldn't remember learning them.

A waitress approached, a friendly smile on her face. "Guten Tag! What can I get for you?"

Alexander opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated. What language had she spoken? German, obviously, but how did he know that? And why couldn't he understand it?

"English?" he asked, his voice rough from disuse.

The waitress' smile never faltered. "Of course," she replied, her accent slight but noticeable. "What would you like?"

"Coffee, please. Black." The words came automatically, and Alexander wondered if this had been his usual order in his forgotten life.

As the waitress moved away, Alexander took stock of his situation. He had no memory, no identity, and people were trying to kill him. Not the most promising start to a day. But he did have some assets: the gun tucked into his waistband, a wallet with some cash, and a locked phone that might hold answers if he could crack it.

He pulled out the phone, a sleek, high-end model. The lock screen showed missed calls and message notifications, all from unknown numbers. Alexander's fingers hovered over the keypad. What would his password have been?

Before he could make an attempt, movement outside the café window caught his attention. Two men in dark suits were walking purposefully down the street, their eyes scanning the storefronts. There was nothing overtly threatening about them, but something in their bearing set off alarm bells in Alexander's mind.

The waitress returned with his coffee. "Anything else?"

Alexander forced a smile. "No, thank you." As she turned to leave, a thought struck him. "Actually, could you tell me the quickest way to the nearest train station?"

She cocked her head, looking puzzled. "But sir, you just came from-"

"A different station," Alexander cut in smoothly. "I'm trying to meet a friend, but I got turned around."