by Greg Iles
Bruderschaft through the Stasi. Maybe they suspect the Stasis role in a
grab for reunification. What the hell is Phoenix? A man? A group of
men? At one Bruderschaft meeting I heard Funk-who was drunk out of his
mind-babbling about how Phoenix was going to change the world, make
everything right again, clean out the Jews and the Turks once and for
all. But when I tried to pump him, Lieutenant Luhr shut him up."
Hauer shifted in the small chair. "Whatever Phoenix is, I'm almost
certain it's based outside Germany. About a month ago, Steuben started
noticing calls going out from Funk to different towns in South Africa. I
assumed it was more drug business, looking for new markets, et cetera.
But I don't think that anymore. Hans, I think you have dredged up
something so politically hot that we @an't even imagine it.
I hope Ilse managed to get those papers to Wolfsburg, but @hether she
did or not, we won't get out of Berlin by driving your VW through
Checkpoint Charlie. We've got to take precautions, make arrangements.
People owe me@' "Pardon me," said a soft voice from the shadows.
Hauer turned in his chair. Benjamin Ochs stood silhouetted against the
lighted hall door. "Forgive me," he said, "but the shouting alarmed my
wife. Could I join you for a moment?" The old man shuffled into the
kitchen and took a seat at the table. He poured a brandy into one of
the unused tumblers his wife had set down earlier, drank it, then wiped
his mouth on his pajama sleeve. "I know what you're thinking, Captain,"
he said. "How Much did the old goat hear, yes?
Well, I'll tell you. I didn't hear everything, but I heard enough. I
wish I'd heard damned all. What I heard ... God help us.
You never said it, but I know what you were talking about. Are you
afraid to say it?"
"I'm not sure what you mean," Hauer said.
"Nazis!" Ochs cried, his wizened head shaking. "That's what you're
talking about. Isn't it? And not just a pack of hooligans desecrating
Jewish cemeteries. You're talking about policemen-professional men,
bankers, board chairmen!"
"You misunderstood, Herr Ochs. It's not so bad as that."
"Captain, it's probably worse than that. Don't you know what the
Phoenix is? It's the bird that perishes in the fire only to be reborn
from its ashes." The old tailor drew himself up to his full height.
"I am a Jew, Captain, a German Jew. Before the war there were 160,000
of us here in Berlin.
Now we are 7,000. I was not a child during the war. While you hunted
scraps in the streets, I existed in a place you cannot imagine.
Beyond hope, outside of time. I lost my entire family-parents, brother,
two sisters-at this place. While they passed into oblivion, I sewed
uniforms for the German Army. I lived while my family died. I promise
you Captain, no uniforms were ever more poorly made than those Benjamin
Ochs made for the Wehrmacht. Every bit of skill I had went into
producing a uniform that would last just long enough to get a soldier to
the frozen Russian front, then fall into pieces fit only for a shroud."
Ochs raised his withered hand. "If you protect such men, Captain, I
tell you now to get out of my house. Now! But if you mean to fight
them . . .
then let me help you. Tell me what you need."
Hans sat speechless, but Hauer lost no time taking advantage of his
offer. "We need a car," he said.
"Done," Ochs said simply.
"We need something to wear besides these uniforms. Do you have anything
that might fit us well enough not to draw attention?"
Ochs smiled. "Am I not a tailor? I won't be a minute with the clothes.
Take whatever food you can find in the refrigerator. If you're going
through East Germany tonight, you won't be stopping for coffee." He
turned and started for the hall.
"Herr Ochs?" Hauer called.
"Yes?"
"What kind of car do you have?"
Ochs's eyes twinkled. "British Jaguar. She runs like the wind."
"Petrol?"
"Both tanks are full." The old man took a step back toward Hauer.
"You stop these men, Captain. Root them out.
Show them what the German people are made of."
turned and scurried down the hall.
"Is he right?" Hans asked. "Are you talking about real Nazis?"
Hauer shook his head. "I don't think so. Germany is the last place
fascism could take hold again. We have the strongest democracy in
Europe. And even if we didn't, NATO and the Warsaw Pact would vaporize
us before they allowed another German dictator. I think we're dealing
with accelerated reunification@conomic, political, and military. There
are massive profits to be made, and Phoenix knows that the nationalist
button is the one to push to get the German people behind them. Funk
and his clowns are just foot soldiers.
Moneymaking drones." Hauer knitted his brow. "Goddamn it, the answer
is right in front of me and I can't pin it down!
All of this fits together somehow: Phoenix, reunification, the Spandau
paper . s-" Hauer stopped dead. "My God. What if Hess's papers
contain something that could be used as leverage against NATO?
Against England and the U.S.? Or even Russia? People have always said
Hess knew some terrible secret. What if it's something Phoenix could
use to pressure the Four Powers on reunification? Even to pressure one
power?"
Hauer thrust the VW keys into Hans's hand. "Move your car down the
block. We don't want to set the dogs on this old fellow. He's been
through enough hell for one lifetime."
As Hans disappeared through the front door, Hauer opened the
refrigerator. He couldn't remember when he'd last eaten. As he reached
for a jar of Polish pickles, an image of Rudolf Hess flashed into his
mind. Tall and cadaverous, the solitary specter shuffled silently
through the snow-covered Spandau courtyards. What could that old man
have known? he wondered. What did he leave behind?
Something big enough to blackmail a superpower? Could anything really
be that big?
"If it is," he told himself with a shiver, "I'm not sure I want to
know."
Hauer pressed down a wave of guilt. He had lied to Hans earlier-he had
seen Erhard Weiss tortured. And he could not blot out the memory. Funk
and his goons weren't sophisticated enough for chemicals; they used
beatings and electricity. On the face, up the anus, clipped to the
penis. And they enjoyed it. Especially Luhr.
Young Weiss had screamed until Hauer thought his jawbone would pop out
of its socket.
The poor boy would have shot his own mother to make them stop, but Luhr
had wanted information, and Weiss hadn't had any. And Hauer-the brave
captain-had stood by in rigid silence while it happened. He could have
tried to stop it, of course, but he would soon have taken Weiss's place
in the torture chair.
Weiss is dead, he told himself. You can't bring him back.
Concentrate on the living. Hauer hoped Hans's wife had made it to
Wolfsburg, but he didn't think much of her chances of getting safely out
of Berlin tonight. If
she had been caught, he hoped it was by the
Russians. God alone knew what Jiirgen Luhr would do to a woman if he
got the chance.
CHAPTER TEN
10.40 Pm. -Polizei AbschniH 53.' West Berlin Prefect Wilhelm Funk
appeared on the verge of a myocardial infarction. A critical situation
he thought admirably under his control had suddenly exploded in his
grossly veined face, and he could do precious little about it. A
genetic bureaucrat, Funk searched instinctively for scapegoats, but the
unfortunate Rolf already lay dead in the basement cell with Weiss's
mutilated corpse. Now Funk sat fuming in his office, accompanied by his
aide Lieutenant Jijrgen Luhr and Captain Otto Greener of the Kreuzberg
district.
"They cannot escape, Prefect," Luhr said, trying to calm his enraged
superior. "We have men at every checkpoint.
Even the smugglers know that taking Hauer out would be fatal. I made
the threats myself."
Funk's fury eased a little at this news. Luhr had always been his
favorite. The man had almost no human weaknesses, mercy least of all.
"Where do you think Hauer might run, Jijrgen? And why in God's name
would he betray us to save some green sergeant?"
"It doesn't matter. None of that matters. We'll find him.
it's only a question of time."
"Well, that's the point, isn't it!" Funk exploded. "Who knows what
that traitorous bastard's gotten hold of! He could destroy years of
work and planning!" Funk leaned forward and put his face in his plump
hands. "At least you got the damned Russians out."
"I'm not sure Kosov bought the lie detector charade," Luhr said
thoughtfully.
Funk waved away his concern. "You said it yourself, Jiirgen, it's just
a matter of time before we run them down.
And when we do, our problem is solved. All Bruderschaft men have the
shoot-to-kill order, and the rest of the force will probably do the same
out of anger. The Spandau papers will be confiscated, and that will be
that."
"What if we don't catch them before they leave the city?"
Otto Greener, cut in.
"We shall!" Funk snapped. "The alternative is impossible to
contemplate."
"But you must contemplate it, Prefect," Greener insisted, laying smug
emphasis on the title. An old rival of Funk's, Groaner enjoyed seeing
him placed squarely on the hot seat.
"Worry about your own district," Funk grumbled.
"But the problem isn't in my district."
Funk slammed his fist down on the desk. "One small setback and already
the dogs are yapping at my heels! What would you do in a real crisis,
Greener? Loot our accounts and sell out Phoenix?"
"How can I sell out someone I'm not even sure exists?"
Funk sighed. "Shut up, Otto. This problem will soon be resolved, and
when it is, I shall turn my attention to you.
The rotund Greener leaned back in his chair and lit a stained pipe. "I
hope you're right, Wilhelm," he said amiably. "For your sake. But
somehow I don't think you are. My instinct tells me that something
unexpected has happened.
Unexpected not only here, but in Pretoria." He raised a fat eyebrow.
"Perhaps Phoenix is not the omnipotent force we have been led to
believe."
"Fool!" Jiirgen Luhr spat. "Words like that could cost you your life.
You think you're in private here? Because there are four walls around
you? I'm starting to believe you think like a cow as well as look like
one."
"You insolent swine!" Greener bellowed, coming to his feet.
Luhr stood defiantly, daring the big man to move against him. His
psychotic blue eyes and formidable physique made any question of rank
irrelevant. "Hauer is loose in the city, and here you two sit, arguing
like children! What are you going to do?"
Groaner searched for a graceful way to reclaim his chair; Funk looked
like a dog disciplined for some reason it doesn't understand.
"Haven't I? Every car has the names and pictures.
God, every man out there knows Hauer by sight! I've convinced everyone
that he and Apfel murdered one of their own. What more can I do?"
Luhr paced worriedly. "I'm not sure. But I'm not so certain you've
convinced everyone. Most officers will get the report only by radio.
They won't actually have seen Weiss's body. Hauer and Apfel have
friends out there, Hauer especially. Men he's been under fire with.
They won't betray him on the basis of a rumor. Particularly one started
by you."
Funk reddened. "But a moment ago you told me they couldn't escape!"
Luhr smiled thinly. "I'm afraid that was to make you feel better.
I'm really not that confident." His face hardened.
"Tell me about Munich," he said. "I know Hauer was demoted because of
the Olympic massacre, but what exactly did he do there?"
Funk wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "I don't see what that has
to do with anything."
"Humor me," said Luhr.
Funk sighed. "All tight. Hauer was in the Federal Border Police then.
He was a sharpshooter or sniper or whatever you want to call it.
The Black September fedayeen were holding the Jew athletes at the
Olympic village. They'd demanded a jet to take them to Cairo. They'd
also demanded the release of Andreas Baader and Ulrike Meinhof, whom
we'd just captured that year, plus a couple of hundred Arab political
prisoners in Israel. The Israeli government asked us to allow one of
their commando teams into Germany to attempt a rescue. And that wet rag
Willy Brandt wanted to let them in! He'd offered to release Baader and
Meinhof from the very beginning! Thank God the final authority was in
the hands of the state government."
"And Hauer?" Luhr prodded.
"I'm telling you," Funk said testily.."The fedayeen and their hostages
were given buses and allowed to drive out to two helicopters which had
been brought to the Olympic village. Some people-Hauer among
them-thought that was the best time to try a rescue. But the state
government said no. The ambush was to be at Fijrstenfeldbrijck airport,
when the terrorists tried to move from the helieopters to the waiting
jet. Almost as soon as the choppers touched down at Fiirstenfeldbriick,
someone gave the order to fire. Hauer was one of five sharpshooters.
The light was terrible, the distance prohibitive, and the shooting
reflected the conditions.
The whole firelight took about an hour. In the end it took an infantry
assault to kill all the Arabs, but not before they had blown up the Jews
in the helicopters."
Luhr nodded. "And Hauer?"
"I just told you."
"But the shooting-Hauer missed his targets?"
"No," said Funk with grudging admiration. "As a matter of fact he
killed one of the terrorists with his first shot, and wounded another
with his second. The fool might even have held on to his job if he'd
kept his mouth shut. But of course he didn't. He had to tell everyone
what we had done wrong, why the rescue was doomed from the beginning.
He was screaming for reforms in our counterteffor capability. He
wanted
us to copy the damned Israelis."
"So what happened to him?"
Funk chuckled softly. "He paid the bureaucratic price, along with
everyone else associated with the massacre. He was transferred to the
civil police here, and he's been a Thorn in my ass ever since. I never
wanted that bastard in our group! I never trusted him after Munich!
He's carried a chip on his shoulder about those Jews ever since that
day." Funk snorted. "Imagine, losing sleep over a few Jewish
wrestlers."
Funk toyed with a shell-casing paperweight on the desk.
"The irony is that Bonn created the GSG-9 because of Munich.
Hauer wanted to join, of course, but by the time his old friends had
lobbied successfully for his acceptance, he was too old to pass the
physical tests. You have to be practically an Olympic athlete to get
in. He coached their sharpshooters for a while, but that's it. I think
they still use him occasionally in some kind of consulting capacity."
" Wunderbar! " Luhr snapped. "And you think we're going to catch this
man with standard tactics? Christ! We've got to do something more."
"What?" Funk asked, almost pleading.
Luhr shook his head angrily. "I don't know yet. But I know this: you'd
better inform Pretoria of what's happened, and the sooner the better!"
Funk blanched. Greener heaved himself from his chair and reached for
his cap. "I should get back to Kreuzberg."
"Yes, I suppose so, Otto," Luhr mocked. "We'll be sure and tell Phoenix
you mentioned him."
Greener slammed the door.
Luhr laughed. "What an old woman. How did he ever survive twenty-five
years on the force?"
"By doing just what he did then," Funk replied, lifting the phone,
"making judicious exits. Besides, nobody wants Kreuzberg. It's the
shithole of Berlin. Nothing there but filthy Turks and students-is that
you, Steuben? You're still on duty?" Funk cut his eyes at Luhr.
"This is the prefect. Get me an international operator again.
Same number.
Right, Pretoria. I need some advice from an old friend in the NIS.
Those fellows down there really know how to handle a problem.
Crack a few heads and no more problem. Yes, I'll wait .. ."
In the first-floor communications room, Sergeant Josef Steuben reached
under his computer desk and activated a small tape recorder.
After surveying the main station room through the window behind him he
