16. Rostock

It was an uneventful trip from Berlin, infact it was as boring as ever for Stefan. Even though his Wartburg wasn’t the biggest of engines, it was infinitely faster than a Trabant and he sailed past them as if they weren’t even moving. His dreams of being a racing driver never materialised and never would. 60Kph wasn’t going to get him on the front row of any grid.

As they reached the end of the autobahn, he changed down a gear and the familiar plume of blue smoke emitted from the exhaust appeared momentarily in his rear view mirror. As did the black car that had followed them all the way from Berlin. He stopped at the first junction he came to and asked Karl for the map. The black car overtook them and then turned right. It was pointless them being followed, everyone from Lehmann to the paper boy knew where they were going. He was just being his usual paranoid self.