Previously at 24 College Avenue: After months of rehab on her torn ACL, Jill Thomas is playing for the Ljubljana Amazons, a women’s pro team in Slovenia. She broke up angrily with her boyfriend, Red Devils forward Dwayne Patterson, when he refused to give her a ride to the airport for her trip to Europe because he needed to get fitted for his suit for the NBA draft. Dwayne was considered a possible lottery pick but wound up not getting chosen at all. . . .

 NBA players fly in chartered jets and never touch a traveling accessory heavier than an iPod. The Ljubljana Amazons, on the other hand, traveled by rail (second class), schlepping their own bags from train to train.

“You know the guys in the NBA have people who do all this for them,’’ Jill bitched as she dragged her duffle bag into the lobby of the Hotel Brandenburg. “From the locker room to the hotel room, they never touch a suitcase. The equipment guys even pack their bags for them.’’

“Get over it, girl,’’ said Jill’s teammate, Chardonnay Knight. “We’re in the EWA, the European Women’s League, not the NBA. And we pack our own bags and carry our own bags.’’

“Ja,’’ said Camilia Brabrickavich, the Amazon’s vending machine of a center. “And wash underwear in sink, too.’’

Now there’s an unappealing image, Jill thought. Camilia’s damp underwear hanging in the bathroom. Thank God Jill roomed with Knight on the road.

“At least we’re staying in a real hotel this time,’’ Chardonnay said, staring around the gilded lobby. “Look at this place.’’

It was true. The Amazons normally stayed in two-star hotels without air-conditioning or elevators. The Hotel Brandenburg, however, was one of the most expensive and storied hotels in the world. Prior to WWII, it was the place to be seen, its address on Unter den Linden a block from Brandenburg Gate was the most famous in Berlin. Lindbergh, Chaplin, Garbo, the Duke and Duchess of Windsor – they all stayed here. And many more guests, provided, of course, they had both the money and the proper contacts. The Brandenburg was known as a hotel so reserved that Pope Pius XII complained about the lack of excitement when he stayed there. Others knew better. Anything and everything could be had in the Brandenburg’s back rooms and secret cellar. Its wicked underground cabaret show was said to provide the inspiration for the musical of the same name. The hotel fell on hard times after the war, though. First, the allies shelled it. Then the Soviets took it over for use as their administrative base. And when the Berlin Wall went up barely one hundred yards from its front door, the hotel was instantly cut off from the well-heeled capitalists required for its survival. By the late seventies, the building was a hotel in name only.

And then the Berlin Wall fell and the Brandenburg rose again. The wall was still being torn apart when the Prince of Mubai purchased the hotel and restored it to former glory. Once again, the rich and famous paraded daily through its lobby (in one infamous incident, a rock star dangled his set of triplets from a balcony for his adoring fans to see) and once again, the Brandenburg was Berlin’s No. 1 address.

“Wilkommen, Fraulein,’’ the precise clerk said coldly as Jill and the rest of her sweatsuit-clothed teammates approached the front desk. “Hast du reservations?’’

The question sounded so much like an accusation, Jill suspected the clerk had been an interrogator for the Stasi, the East German secret police, before the German reunification.

“Yes, we have reservations. For the Ljubljana Amazon basketball team. We’ll be staying four nights.’’

The clerk touched a couple keys and glanced at his monitor. “Nein, we haff nothing under that name. A confirmation number, bitte?’’

“Yes, I have it right here,’’ Jill said, bending down to reach into her bag. She found the paper and stood up. When she did, she was stunned by the person standing next to her.

“Dwayne! What the hell are you doing here? And how come you didn’t get drafted?’’

“Yeah, great seeing you again, too, girl.’’

Jill immediately felt bad. The draft must be a terribly painful subject for Dwayne.

“I’m sorry, Dwayne,’’ Jill said. “I didn’t mean to bring up the draft but what the hell – last time we talked, you wouldn’t even give me a ride to the airport. And you said you wouldn’t miss me because you were going to be getting NBA honeys soon.’’

“Yeah, what happened to that?’’ Chardonnay added. “Don’t see any NBA honeys in this lobby.’’

For once, Dwayne looked humble. “I can thank your housemate Danny for that.’’

“Danny Edmonds?’’ Jill asked. “What could he do to hurt your draft status? Break your ankle in a game of one-on-one?’’

“I wish it was something like that. Nah. He’s got to go and #$@& up my reputation.’’

Jill gave Dwayne a quizzical look, still puzzled.

“It’s like this,’’ Dwayne said. “He was so deep into those Russian mafia guys with his gambling that the @#&$ told them he knew someone on the Red Devils who would shave points for them. Me. No, don’t give me that look -- you know I would never shave points.’’

Jill knew this was true. Dwayne was too competitive to ever give less than his best. It was annoying at times – he wouldn’t let up the slightest bit when they played against each other in the driveway.

“I didn’t have nothing to do with it but Danny convinced the Russians he could get me to do it anyway, just to get them off his back for another week. He said I would make sure State didn’t cover the spread.’’

“And they believed him?’’

“Probably not but what did they have to lose by giving him another week? Maybe Danny comes up with the money by then. Or maybe he doesn’t and they break his kneecaps. Or maybe he’s not bull----ing them and he does know someone who will shave points and it would be like having a free ATM card for their gambling operation.’’

“But I still don’t get it. Didn’t they figure out immediately you wouldn’t shave points?’’

“That’s the problem. Danny told them this before that game at the Great Klondike Shootout.’’

Dwayne paused to let this dawn on her. When it didn’t seem to register, he continued. “The game where I missed a dunk in the final seconds? The one that kept us from covering the spread?’’

Jill shook her head in disgust. “Yes, I remember,’’ she said icily. “How could I forget that game? Some slut sitting near the hoop flashed her breasts when you drove to the hoop.’’ Dwayne being Dwayne, he got distracted enough to miss the dunk. He thought it was a funny story but she hadn’t spoken to him for two days afterward.

“So anyway,’’ Dwayne went on, “the Russian guys were convinced I was shaving points.’’

“Oh, no.’’

“Yeah. They gave Danny another line of credit and he put it all on the Devils to beat Tech in the Aluminum Bowl. And when State lost, Danny took off, leaving some mighty pissed off Russians.’’

Jill nodded, remembering it all, how Danny had hidden in Jimmy City for months before the Russians finally found him just before the national tournament. The whole affair came to a head in the lair of Blood and Muscle.

“Ahem.’’

It was the front desk clerk loudly clearing his throat. “Bitte. Has Fraulein found her confirmation?’’

Jill handed him the paper. “It’s right here.’’ He took it from her as if it was contagious. Jill turned back to Dwayne.

“But how did this affect your draft status?’’ she asked.

“After the Russians finally got arrested, they tried to plea bargain by offering up a point-shaving plot. The police didn’t believe it but they launched an investigation anyway. Pretty soon word leaked out that I might be linked to a point-shaving scandal and once it did, no team wanted me.’’

“So what’s going to happen now?’’

“My agent swears it will be straightened out in a couple months but that’s too late for this season. I can probably sign a 15-day offer sheet come winter and hook on that way, but I’m screwed until then.’’

Chardonnay glanced at Dwayne’s suitcase, which looked a little too stylish for a basketball player without either a pro contract or a college degree. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here in Berlin,’’ she said.

“I ran up a lot of debt buying @#$%, counting on my draft money. Never should have bought that new stretch Escalade but it came with its own hot tub.’’  Dwayne looked at Jill and shrugged his shoulders semi-apologetically. He remembered how much she hated SUVs. “Anyway, I needed money until my agent gets this whole thing cool.’’

“And so?’’ Jill asked.

“So I signed a two-month contract with the Crenshaw Road Warriors.’’

The Crenshaw Road Warriors? Jill couldn’t believe it. The Road Warriors had once been the world’s most popular team, performing all around the globe. Their world famous routine – high-flying dunks, dazzling dribbling, ball-spinning trick plays and 3,000-game winning streak against their personal patsy packed arenas worldwide. As gravity-defying slams became common-place in the NBA, however, the Road Warriors routine had grown stale however and the team lost popularity.

“Crenshaw Road Warriors,’’ Camilia said, very impressed. “Saw play in Krakow when little girl.’’ She whistled the team’s famous theme song, “Round Ball, Round World’’ and mimicked spinning a ball on her finger.

“I didn’t even know they still existed,’’ Chardonnay said.

Dwayne nodded. “They shut down for a couple months but then a new investor bought them and reorganized them last year. They’re back to they roots now but with a hip-hop edge. They still do some of the stunts and stuff but they also play real games against real teams. And they spell Warriors with Z. I guess I should say we spell it with Z. I’m filling in for Fat Boy Jonez while he takes his family on vacation to DisneyWorld. I play my first game this week in Berlin.’’

Jill smiled at Chardonnay, who grinned back and laughed. Dwayne assumed he would be a lottery pick and instead he had a temp job with a team of basketball clowns. “And just who are you playing?’’ she asked.

“You mean they didn’t tell you?’’

“No.’’

“The Ljubljana Amazons,’’ Dwayne said. “Your owner and our owner just added it to the schedule.  How about that, girl? We’re finally gonna play each other for real. Just don’t bring your weak @#&$ anywhere near me or I will make you pay.’’

“Pay?’’ Chardonnay snickered. “How you gonna make her pay? By tossing an ol’ bucket of confetti on her?’’

“I told you, they don’t do that @#&$ no more,’’ Dwayne said, genuinely offended. “You should see who we got on our team. Some big-time college players.’’

Chardonnay shook her head and laughed some more while Jill just stared at Dwayne. While she was trying to decide whether to feel anger over how he had treated her, sadness about what had happened to him or joy they were in the same city, to her annoyance Camilia asked Dwayne for an autograph.

“Camilia, let’s get checked in,’’ Jill snapped. She turned to the front desk clerk, who was smiling with satisfaction.

“I am so sorry, Fraulein,’’ the clerk said with deep pleasure. “As it happens, your reservation is at the Brandenburg Hotel. This is the Hotel Brandenburg. Very similar names, very different properties. I believe you’ll find your hotel near Zoo Station. Very near Zoo Station. You may want to buy ear plugs.’’ He waved them away dismissively. “And if you could be so kind to leave by our side entrance? Guten Tag.’’

“I knew it was too good to be true,’’ Chardonnay said, picking up her suitcase.

Dwayne grabbed Jill’s bag, his hand touching hers. “Hey, no reason for you to go. You can stay with me. I got a whole suite. With a huge bed.’’

“No, that’s OK, Dwayne,’’ Jill said, instantly regretting her words. “I’ll stay with my teammates.’’

“No problem,’’ Dwayne said, then gestured as if using the phone. “Give me a call when you get checked in. We’ll have dinner.’’

“Whatever,’’ Jill said.

She shouldered her bag and headed toward the exit, trying to ignore Camilia whistling “Round Ball, Round World.’’ She glared at Chardonnay. “They have traveling secretaries to handle these things in the NBA, you know.’’

Next: Checkpoint Charlie