He banged on the door. A guard handed me a large glass of water, which I consumed quickly. I only noticed the bitter taste after I had drained the container. Dieter talked. His words started to fade. My head became heavy and I felt drowsy. Before I slumped forward across the desk, I realized I had been drugged.
I woke up bound to a straight-back chair in another cell, feeling groggy and lethargic. As the fog cleared, I realized I was talking about Robert and his work as a weatherman. And then rambling on about the weather-betting contest in the gasthaus. “How could anyone who was not a weatherman know so much about weather forecasting?” I asked. The interrogator stood, slammed his fist on the table, and stormed out.
The other man who had been in the room untied me and removed all the furniture from the room. After he walked out, the lights went off. The floor was relatively clean, so I lay down and fell asleep on the cold concrete. I jerked awake to loud music and flashing lights. For hours as soon as I dozed off, this process was repeated again and again.
Eventually, the guards brought in a fire hose, drenched me with cold water, and forced me to occupy a corner with my back turned to them.
The smock became transparent, and the guards commented on my appearance and stated, “Sie wurde guter fick sein” (she would be a good fuck.) I was taken to another room and again seated on a stool.
Dieter Holburg sat behind the desk as I hugged myself, trying desperately to get warm and cover my body—the water had been frigid, and I shivered uncontrollably.
“Anna…Anna Fischer…Anna Kerr?!”
He slapped me to get my attention. “Listen to me. We will let you go back to your corrupt, decadent West if you collect information on your husband for us. All you have to do is find out what he does every day and report back to us. If you agree, you can leave here today. Right now. Or you can spend months, years, or even a lifetime while we repeat these methods until we find one that breaks you. Your choice.”
I still felt groggy from the drugs in the water, plus my right bicep hurt. I was battered, bruised, and frightened, but I remained silent.
“Will you help us find out what your husband is doing here in Berlin?”
“What if I agree?” I whimpered.
“We will release you, and you will return to your precious Robert only a little worse for wear. My associates will make it easy for you to find out what he does every day.”
“What if I find out that he’s actually just a weatherman?”
“If you provide proof then we will not persecute your family or you further. I must warn you, if you agree and then don’t help us, we will kidnap you off the street of West Berlin. Also, remember your family lives over here. What do you say?”
“Can I have a shower and my clothes back?”
“Yes, of course.”
“I’ll help you any way I can,” I replied, surrendering to their demands, although I did not believe they would actually allow me to return to West Berlin.
Dieter knocked on the door, and the weightlifter lady took me down the hall to a modern bathroom. I showered, dried my hair as best I could, and looked in the mirror. A changed woman looked back at me—a woman determined on revenge for the indignities I’d experienced.
My watch read 3:35. What day? I wondered, certain that several days had passed. All of the contents of my purse were there, including the money, but the unexposed film was missing..
After being shown to Dieter Holburg’s office, he said, “Please be seated. Here is a confession that you traveled to East Germany using false documents and have agreed to assist the DDR in determining your husband’s responsibilities.”
With trepidation, I signed the paper.
Handing me the photograph of a hawk-faced, dark-haired woman, Dieter said, “This is Olivia Katz. She is your new best friend. There is a French Cafe called ‘Paris in a Cup’ near your workplace at Tempelhof. Olivia is an old classmate of yours from the gymnasium. You will renew your acquaintance at 12:30 this coming Wednesday. Then, every Wednesday and Friday you will meet for lunch. She will be the person you report to. If she becomes unhappy with your cooperation, you or your family will suffer the consequences. Dire consequences. Remember, we have your signed confession. Is everything clear?”
“Yes, entirely clear.” I replied and then asked, “What day is it?”
“Oh, you have only been here thirty hours. It is Sunday afternoon.”
“Really, that seems impossible.”
“Imagine how interminable weeks, months or years of life here with us would be. Ah, but you do not have to worry—you are going to help us—remember, we own you now.”
“When can I leave?”
“Soon, but first we must give you a cover story…”
Chapter 112
Robert
Sunday, September 10, 1961
“I wanted to believe that I would eventually be released. Thinking of you kept me sane.” Anna murmured, clinging to me moments after she passed through the Potsdamerplatz checkpoint. Most of this cobblestoned open space was in the East, but we occupied the wide sidewalk adjacent to a busy thoroughfare in the West.
I kissed her and held her, caressing her face, neck, and hair. “You’re alive and safe, that’s what matters.”
“We must make certain that your father knows you’re here,” I whispered in her ear. At my direction, we faced the East, saw Bernard on the hill, and we both waved to him. It was precisely 6 p.m.
After we lowered our arms, Anna’s smile became a frown. She repeatedly shuddered. Her chin quivered, and I thought she might cry, so I said, “Maybe it’ll help if you tell me what happened and where you’ve been. Everyone has been so worried.”
Anna cringed, pointing East with her eyes. “Do you see that man? The ToPo (Border Police) Captain looking at us. His name is Gustav Mueller. He grew up near me. I never liked him. His father is some senior officer in the SPD—the Communist Party. For years, he pursued me.”
Clenching my fists, I wanted to confront the son-of-a-bitch. As I took a step in his direction, Anna grabbed my arm. “Robert, don’t do anything rash.”
“He’s the one who had me detained last month. Yesterday, he decided to again make trouble for me. On his word, I was taken to jail. Once I was in a holding cell, he offered to release me if I’d have sex with him. I spit in his face. He ordered that they lock me in a cell and not list my name on the booking sheet. They just released me a few minutes ago…”
“That bastard, I should kill him.”
“You’ll just get in trouble, and that won’t help my family or me. Understand.”
“We shouldn’t have sent you to the East. I knew it might be dangerous for you.”
“I wanted to help my family.”
“Anna, my love…”
“—I’m here and will never go to the East again. We’ll need to find another way to get my family out of that hell hole.”
When we got home, she told me, “I’m terribly hungry—they didn’t feed me anything, but first I must have a shower.”
Once Anna was in the shower, I went down to the basement and determined that the recording devices had been reinstalled. I took my clothes off, joined her in the shower and reported, “The walls have ears again.” She clung to me at that news.
While we stood in the shower, I asked, “Do you still have the film?” Obviously confused, she eventually mumbled, “Someone must have taken it, because it was missing from my purse when I got it back.”
She consumed the scrambled eggs, ham, and toast I made for her in an almost zombie-like state, only responding to my questions with odd sounds and one-word answers. I knew she was hiding something, but I didn’t press her further.
Once in bed, she grabbed me and began to weep. Her crying fits were interspersed with restless sleep for both of us. At the time, I thought her emotional reaction typical for someone who had been traumatized. The next day, I learned the shocking details of her ordeal.
Chapter 113
Monday, Sep
tember 11, 1961
“It was a nightmare, Robbie. A terrible nightmare!” Anna sat on an examination table in the base infirmary, gripping my hands and trembling. “This is the only place I could think of that we could talk freely,” she told me. I alternately held her hands or hugged her as almost mechanically, she related details of her hours in the Stasi Prison.
Enfolding her in my arms, I said, “What you experienced is terrible, Anna. You suffered at their hands, and it’s my fault. Can you ever forgive me?”
“No! Robert, it’s not your fault. I tried to act strong, to deny I was vulnerable…that I might be in jeopardy. But I’m not strong…” she began to cry again.
I held her for a long time. Eventually I said, “Anna you’re so precious to me. You suffered such awful mental and physical torture. I am so grateful you survived.”
“Mostly, I thought about you. You helped me through each second, minute and hour.”
She paused briefly. “I must tell you something. They told me that if I don’t spy on you, they will make my family suffer. Prison for the adults and orphanages for the children. I’m more concerned for them than myself.”
“Somehow, we will make that dirty son-of-a-bitch Dieter Holburg and his Stasi thugs pay for what they have done to you. Our revenge will be getting your family out of East Berlin to safety.”
“Until then we must protect them, but how can we do that?”
“Obviously, you will spy on me. I know people who will help us to get even in the process.”
“Promise me that we won’t endanger my family,” she pleaded.
“I promise no harm will come to them. Are you all right? What did the doctor say?”
“I asked him to look me over and take a blood sample. Perhaps someone will identify the drugs given me by the Stasi.” She dried her eyes.
“Can I leave you for a few minutes?” I gave her a tender kiss.
She nodded. “I’m still a little shaky, but we must act quickly. My first meeting with the Stasi agent is in two days!”
“Get dressed, and I’ll be right back.”
“Robbie, if I knew your real job, perhaps we could figure out a way to satisfy them.”
I shook my head no. I could not and would not share that information.
For the third time, Anna was admitted onto the second floor of the Air Force Base. In the conference room outside of Scott’s office, she again related the details of her entire ordeal to Kurt and Scott.
“Anna, we should never have asked you to go East. They confiscated the film and probably had it developed while they held you,” Kurt speculated. “When the film was blank, they decided to subvert you into spying for them. I’m sure our escape plans and your detention are unrelated.”
“Hopefully, I didn’t tell them about our escape plans,” Anna said.
“If they didn’t ask, you probably didn’t volunteer the information,” Kurt assured her. “In actuality, the so-called truth serum doesn’t work on most people.”
“I’m glad of that.”
“Act as normal as possible,” Kurt instructed her. “Whatever your regular routine is, follow it. Please return to work.”
“Gladly.”
“Tell those who work for you that you received some medication and are feeling better. Go to the meeting with Fraulein Katz on Wednesday and Friday, per their instructions. Report any and everything back to us. Do you have any questions?”
“You’re telling me to cooperate with those communist bastards?” Anna demanded in German.
In German, he answered, “You will appear to assist them. We will exact revenge for you. Believe me!”
“How?”
“Our goal will be to convince them that Robert is a weatherman by providing information that substantiates that contention.”
“They haven’t been convinced yet,” Anna retorted.
“Exactly…trust us. We know how to stack little facts on top of each other, which will force them to conclude that there is nothing new to learn. Once they are no longer interested in him, we give them small subtle pieces of false or misleading information, which leads them to make damaging mistakes.”
“Good. I’m ready for revenge if my family doesn’t suffer. What should I do?”
“Both of you must follow your usual routine. Does the bookstore have a back exit?”
“Yes, it opens into a hallway that ends in stairs which lead to the second floor. There’s a guard at the checkpoint at the top of the stairs.”
“When you return to the base after your meeting on Wednesday, go through the bookstore, take that stairway, and we’ll arrange for the guard to admit you. Robert, Scott, another man and/or I will be waiting in this room each day to debrief you.”
“Is that all?”
“No. In the interim, we’ll use all of our people to formulate a detailed plan of action. We’ll review it with you and Robert on Wednesday afternoon.”
After Anna left the room, I kicked the wall hard enough to dent it. This was all Perkins’ fault—the fucking bastard and traitor. Because he told them that my project would help the West win the next war, the Stasi obviously believed my duties included something new, something vitally important, perhaps even threatening, to their national interest. No matter what Anna or I do, they’ll continue to hound us.
In the two months since I’d rescued Perkins, no one had shown the least interest in “the building.” The security committee had recently concluded he hadn’t revealed the big secrets—what and where. But the East Germans, and probably even the Russians, were now desperate to find out the answers to those two vital questions.
In our meeting, Kurt told Anna that she needed to help us maintain my weatherman cover. Although she often expressed doubt about its validity, she agreed to help us, primarily to protect her family. If she cooperated with the Stasi her family might be safe, but one miscue on anyone’s part could prove ruinous, even fatal, for one or many of them, and perhaps even the two of us.
“What are we going to do?” I asked when only Kurt and I remained in the conference room.
“We’ll instill doubt in the other side about what the game is, who the players are, and the ultimate objectives. We’ve managed to keep them guessing for the last year. It’s time for you to again be the head of the USAF Berlin weather station.”
I looked at him in disbelief. “I know you don’t think the Stasi are stupid, right?”
“No. Your project and the new Nuclear Hardened Command Center beneath Clay Headquarters are highly classified programs. We can’t tell Anna anything about them or what’s really happening, so we have no choice but to help her sell the story that you’re a weatherman.”
I asked, “What if they figure out she’s also working for us and everything is fabricated…” I suddenly realized the truth. My lovely wife Anna was at the center of a game of international intrigue. Additional lies would be layered on top of existing lies in a desperate bid to hide the truth and survive. I managed to say, “We’re probably fucked!”
Chapter 114
Anna
Wednesday, September 13, 1961
Too nervous to sit at my desk, I left the bookstore early and walked to the tea room, hoping the exercise would allow me to calm down. Concerned that Olivia would see right through my façade, I devised a plan of action. I would say as little as possible and be genial and cooperative as she led the conversation.
Arriving ten minutes early allowed me to select a table in a secluded corner. Olivia, a few years older than me, wore a poorly made, manly cut suit coat and skirt. She styled her hair into a severe bun that left no doubt that she lived in the East.
“Anna, Anna Fischer. It has been a long time.”
“Anna Kerr now,” I responded holding out my right hand.
For the next fifteen minutes, we updated each other on our lives since leaving the gymnasium.
“I live in the East,” Olivia stated. “Everything is much better there. The state provides health care plus food, and almo
st everything is much less expensive. Rents are very low, and the people are much happier.”
“I came West to finish my education and am now married to an American.”
“Really. Tell me about your husband.”
“He is the head of a weather station at Tempelhof, and we live in a nearby apartment. Soon we will go to Califonia to live.”
“Really? That is most interesting!” She looked surprised.
“When do you two leave Berlin?”
Had I revealed too much? I wondered. “March or April of next year.”
“And so, you have agreed to help us?”
“Yes, but I’ve already told your associates everything I know.”
“Nevertheless, you will help.”
“Yes. What do you want?”
“Find out what your husband really does. You and I both know he is not a weatherman!”
“I’ve lived with him for months, and I know nothing I have not already told your people.”
“Get into his office, steal papers, documents, whatever you find.”
“There are armed guards fulltime at the two entrances to the second floor. They prevent anyone without a picture badge from entering those areas. That’s impossible.”
“Make drawings of the base, where the guard stations are located, and where his office is located within those spaces.”
“How will that help?” I asked.
“We have plans for the Tempelhof Airport from when it was built in the 1930s. You’ll come to the East and help us to locate your husband’s office in the area that the American Air Force occupies—then perhaps we can help you…”
“I will never go to the East again!!” I shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the café.
At this point, Olivia said in a quiet tone, “Anna, I will have no choice but to tell Herr Holburg you were totally uncooperative today. He will decide our next course of action.”
“I will make the drawing, but you’ll have to bring the building plans over here.”
“That is better.”
“You told Herr Holburg you have a photograph of your husband at the desk in his office. You will bring that photo and your drawing of the base with you to our meeting on Friday. Understand?”
The Berlin Tunnel Page 29
