Herbert Kochler was at the station shortly before five in the morning. It was still dark outside but getting imperceptibly lighter, the temperature a few degrees above freezing, cool and crisp. He was headed to München, just like every other morning for the past fourteen years, only today he was two hours earlier than normal because he had a phone conference with clients in Beijing at six. The station was nearly deserted except for two other travelers, an older lady carrying a large shopping bag marked Lidl, and a young man in a dark hoodie restlessly pacing back and forth along a section of the platform. Herbert payed him no mind, instead he rubbed the sleep from his eyes then looked down at his phone to pass the time. Continue reading...