They left the hotel with Harry's things and drove the Mercedes to the Bern Bahnhof and left it sitting in a tow-away zone, and took a taxi to the airport and took the 8:30 red-eye to Athens. When the plane landed, they walked across the tarmac and entered the busy terminal on the ground level and went straight to the baggage claim and the welter of tourists and travelers claiming their things. A young Hippie couple watched them walk off the plane and enter the terminal.
"Exactly when did you find time to call for reservations for this plane," Harry said as they walked across the hot macadam pavement, stopping momentarily to avoid passing baggage tram.
"When you went inside the bookstore you claim used to be Max's whorehouse, I stepped inside the apothecary across the street and made a call to Toynbee. He made a reservation for us and arranged someone to meet us at the hotel."
Harry had no intention of using her hotel. He was feeling acrimonious towards the BAR's hospitality. For now, he would leave it alone and convince her to do likewise. But he laid the groundwork for his argument that "Our every move seems to be known to the other guys. Someone had been keeping us under close observation."
Sara looked cautiously around but said nothing.
"I have a better idea," he said and told her about it while they waited for the bags to troll around the belt.