As the man who’d just got off the bus approached, my fellow agent, who’d been pretending to tinker under the bonnet of a parked car, stood up. ‘Momentino, senor (Just a moment, sir),’ he said, and then grabbed him.
They rolled into a ditch in the struggle, where two more of us leapt in to complete the capture. Our prey tried to shout out, his voice strangled, like the growl of a wounded animal.
We dragged him to the back seat, my hand over his mouth. He was told, in German: ‘If you keep quiet, nothing bad will happen to you.’
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