The Spandau Phoenix wwi-2

by Greg Iles

  that double's murder just five weeks ago. KGB Chairman Zemenek stated

  his belief that the killing had been done by an assassin paid by Sir

  Neville Shaw of Britain's mI-5. Borodin admired the nerve and

  resourcefulness shown by Vasili Zinoviev and Helmut Steuer, but the rest

  of the story essentially bored him.

  Except for the part about the blackmail. When Borodin saw how Churchill

  had forced Joseph Stalin to keep silent about the Hess affair, he had

  come instantly alert. Because he saw then how important the recently

  discovered Spandau papers could be to KGB Chairman Zemenek. The Spandau

  papers could conceivably clear the way for the Kremlin to tell the world

  what it knew about British collaboration with the Nazis during the war,

  and thus force them to share responsibility for the Holocaust. Borodin

  also saw that if he were the man who recovered those papers, his already

  advanced career would take a critical leap forward.

  He had only one problem. At the end of the Hess file he had found a

  message inserted by the chairman of the KGB.

  It said: Borodin: General Secretary Gorbachev currently exploring

  possibility of collaborating with U.S. State Department regarding joint

  disclosure of the truth about Hess's mission. Do nothing to antagonize

  any U.S. operatives you may encounter in pursuit of the Spandau papers.

  British operatives fair game.

  Zemenek Yuri Borodin wiped his mouth with his napkin, shoved his empty

  plate aside, and pulled the file to him. He reread Chairman Zemenek's

  note. At this point, he reflected, another agent in his position might

  have trouble digesting the meal, since less than eighteen hours ago he

  had tortured and executed an American Army Intelligence major. But

  Borodin wasn't worried. The Hess file had told him one thing: if he

  returned to Moscow with the Spandau papers, no one would ask whom he had

  killed to get them.

  He glanced at his watch. The next flight to South Africa took off in

  just under four hours. Borodin chuckled. The big German.Kripo

  detective had not arrived from Berlin yet, but he would, with

  predictable German punctuality. And then he would lead Yuri Borodin to

  the Spandau papers like an elephant leading a lion to water.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  n rsgo ll.-35 A.m. El Al Flight 331: Zoirea Al co The deadliest woman in

  the world stepped out of the forward lavatory of the 747

  looking like a grandmother on holiday, a role she assumed with ease.

  Swallow's stylish outfit reflected modest wealth; her hair shone with

  the almost-blue tint unique to elderly ladies still courting their

  vanity; and she smelled of body powder and a very expensive vintage

  perfume-an alluring concoction called Claire de Lune. She carefully

  made her way up the first-class aisle, then, just as she passed Jonas

  Stern, she stumbled. She cried out in Yiddish-a nice touch-and landed

  directly beside Stern's seat. Gadi Abrams, who'd been sitting in the

  seat across the aisle, leaped up and helped her to her feet.

  "Thank you, young man," she said weakly, her face flushed with

  embarrassment. "I'm afraid I'm not used to airplanes."

  Stern glanced up. Had he met the woman's eyes, he might have seen the

  danger; he might even have recognized her by the dark fire that burned

  there. But he might not have. The road that had led Swallow to this

  airplane was a long and tortuous one. In any case, he did not meet her

  eyes. He glanced over at Professor Natterman, . who slept noisily

  beside him, then went back to reading his El Al magazine.

  "This flight seems as though it will never end," SwaHow complained.

  4.ltls a long one," Gadi agreed.

  "How much longer, do you think?"

  "About five hours."

  Swallow sighed. "It's worth it in spite of everything. My

  granddaughter just turned eighteen months old, and I've yi to see her."

  "She lives in JohannesburgT' Gadi inquired politely.

  "No, Pietersburg. It's far to the north, I think."

  Gadi nodded. "Are you all right now?"

  "Yes, but I'd better sit down. Thank you again."

  Swallow slowly made her way to her seat, one of three near the spiral

  staircase leading up to the 747's cocktail lounge. After situating a

  small pillow behind her head, she pulled a romance novel from her

  handbag. Glancing up for a moment, she caught Gadi staring.

  The Israelis were professionals-she had to admit that. Though Jonas

  Stern sat only four rows behind her, his three young escorts had

  surrounded him in a protective triangle. And with Stern in an aisle

  seat, no one meaning harm to his slumbering companion could get to him

  without going through all four Israelis first-an impossible task. Stern

  himself, however, was a different matter. Swallow could have taken him

  as she passed only moments ago.

  In a way she had. While Gadi helped her up, she had pressed an

  adhesive-barked microtransmitter against the underside of Stern's seat.

  Everything the Israelis said during the remainder of the flight would be

  pick@d up by a tiny receiver in the flesh-toned hearing aid she wore in

  her right ear. The unit whistled for a few seconds as she dialed in the

  frequency, but she could clearly hear Professor Natterman snoring in his

  seat by the window.

  "This is Captain Lev Ronen," announced a disembodied voice with the

  accent of a Sabra, or native-born Israeli. "As a point of interest, we

  are now crossing the equator. And about four hundred miles to our left

  is Lake Victoria, Africa's largest lake and the source of the Nile. I'm

  sure our first-time travelers will be glad to know that as we cross into

  the southern hemisphere, the seasons are reversed. That means we're

  flying into summer. We should arrive in Johannesburg on schedule at

  5:40 Pm. South African time, and we hope everyone is having a pleasant

  flight."

  Gadi Abrams leaned across the aisle toward Stern. "Also about four

  hundred miles to our left," he said, mocking the if, lo rth captain's o

  icious tone, ,is Entebbe, site of the July u , 1976, rescue of-over a

  hundred Israelis from the hands of international terrorists." His tone

  changed to indignation.

  "You'd think they'd mention it, at least. We are on El Al, for God's

  sake."

  Stern gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Old news, Gadi.

  Besides, you never know who's flying El Al. We don't want to offend the

  paying customers."

  Four rows ahead, Swallow smiled with satisfaction. The conversation had

  come in loud and clear over her receiver.

  "I'm surprised at the number of passengers," Gadi remarked.

  "Since you arranged the flight privately, I didn't expect any."

  Stern chuckled softly. "I arranged this flight thirty hours ago.

  General Avigur said he would get me to South Africa.

  He didn't say he @ouldn't tly to defray the cost any way he could."

  "I don't like it."

  "Two passengers are always air marshals," Stern reminded him.

  "Leave the security to them for once and go to sleep. It might be your

  only chance for a while."

  "You're not sleeping."

 
; Stern reclined his plush seat and closed his eyes. "Good night."

  Gadi pulled a wry face and glanced around the First Class cabin.

  The blue-haired grandmother was the only other passenger up here.

  That meant the air marshals had to be in Tourist. He considered walking

  the length of the plane once more to try to pick them out, but decided

  against it. Stern was right: he needed rest. The old woman was

  certainly no threat. Reclining his seat, Gadi closed his eyes and, like

  professional soldiers everywhere, dropped off to sleep only moments

  after making the decision to do so. His last mental picture was of

  himself helping the old grandmother to her feet, his good deed for the

  day.

  As the "grandmother" pretended to concentrate on the novel in her lap, a

  new voice mumbled in her receiver. Professor Natterman had awakened.

  "What time is it?" he asked groggily.

  "Almost lunchtime," Stern answered, half-asleep already.

  "How do you feel?"

  "I feel like getting some answers is how I feel," Natterman grumbled. "I

  think it's time you told me your half of the story."

  Stern opened his eyes and turned irritably toward the professor, but the

  large white bandage over Natterman's lacerated nose kept him civil. He

  jerked his head toward Gad reminding the professor of their agreement

  not to discuss anything- about Rudolf Hess. "What do you want to know,

  Professor?"

  "Everything. What about this Phoenix AG? Why did you come to Berlin in

  the first place? I want to know why Ilse was taken to South Africa.

  What's the significance of that?"

  Stern looked over at Gadi. "I've thought a lot about that," he

  murmured. "And I'm sorry to disappoint you, but your Nazi angle doesn't

  fit here. At least not in the way you think. The Afrikaners are white

  supremacists, of course, but that's no secret. They fought against

  Hitler during the war, and damned valiantly. And in spite of their

  prejudice against blacks, they@ve got a pretty good record on Jews. They

  allowed a great deal of Jewish immigration during the war, which is more

  than a lot of countries did."

  "What about the present day? What are their ties with Germany?"

  Stern shook his head. "Limited. During the past several years, South

  Africa has quiedy developed extremely close relations with another

  country in a very similar geopolitical situation. That country is not

  West Germany, however, but Israel. It doesn't sound like we're flying

  ifito a nest of neoNazis, does it?"

  "No," Natterman agreed. "But you obviously have some suspicions about

  South Africa and Germany. Where is the fox in the henhouse?"

  "South Africa's nuclear program. The darkest corner of this dark

  country."

  "Does South Africa actually possess nuclear weapons?

  I've heard it speculated in the news, but never confirmed."

  Stern smiled wryly. "Oh, I can confirm it for you. In 1979, an

  American VELA satellite detected a distinctive double flash off the

  South African coast, in the South Atlantic. That flash was the result

  of a joint nuclear test carried out by South Africa and Israel."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because for all practical purposes, Professor, Israel gave South Africa

  the bomb. Nuclear weapons are one of the main pillars of the

  Israeli/South Africa relationship."

  " What? "

  "it was an inevitable partnership. Israel developed its first bomb in

  1968, but we had several limitations. We couldn't test our weapons

  without being detected; South Africa had vast deserts and two oceans. We

  needed raw uranium and other strategic minerals; South Africa had

  extensive reserves. South Africa also had a great deal of ready cash.

  But the main tie was psychological, emotional. As the world closed

  ranks against apartheid, South Africa grew ever more isolated. Before

  long it was an international pariah surrounded by hostile enemies. The

  siege mentality was a natural reaction, and we in Israel are the masters

  of that particular neurosis."

  "But how do you know all this, Stern?"

  The Israeli looked at Natterman for a long time. "You asked me before

  if I worked for the Mossad, Professor.

  Right now I am exactly what I told you in the beginning, a retiree. But

  I have done a bit of work for several government agencies.

  Shin Beth and the Mossad, yes, but my longest service was with an agency

  called LAKAM. Have you heard of it?"

  Natterman shook his head.

  "LAKAM is Israel's nuclear security force. Not in the sense of

  operating the weapons, but in protecting them.

  LAKAM safeguarded Israel's nuclear program from inception to completion.

  That's why I know so much about the South African program."

  "And is this LAKAM work what led you to Berlin? To Spandau?"

  "Not exactly. What led me to Spandau was a chain of facts. A very

  fragile chain with four links that spans three decades. The first link

  wag a warning note-an anonymous, cryptic note written in Cyrillic

  handwriting and delivered to Israel in 1967. It warned of terrible

  danger to Israel and spoke of 'the fire of An-nageddon.' This note

  claimed that the secret of this danger could be found in Spandau.

  That, of course, was a very broad hint. Did the writer mean Spandau the

  city? Spandau the prison? What? Two days later, the Six-Day War broke

  out and the note was dismissed as a warning of the Egyptian attack,

  probably written by a Russian with a conscience."

  Stern rubbed his temples. "Now, ump ahead to the early 1970s. I was

  working for LAKAM by then, and we in the agency became aware that

  certain German scientistsformer Third Reich physicists-were working in

  the rocketry section of South Africa's nuclear program. This by itself

  was not unusual. After all, it was German scientists who built the

  bombs for America and Russia. But when you c sider that the prime

  minister of South Africa in 1979-the year of the secret Israeli/South

  African nuclear test-was John Vorster, a man who had supported the Nazis

  during World War Two, it takes on a rather different significance.

  "Now, let's jump ahead again, to the 1980s. It was then, through

  contacts in the Mossad, that I became aware of a neo-fascist police

  organization called Bruderschaft der Phoenix, headquartered in West

  Berlin-"

  "Phoenix!" Natterman exclaimed. "Hurry, Stern, tell me!"

  "Again, this by itself was not of great import. It took the fourth and

  final link to join the others in my mind. Just three weeks ago, the

  Israeli Foreign Ministry received a typed warning from an anonymous

  source. The writer obviously knew of the secret Israeli/South African

  nuclear partnership, and stated that he had personal knowledge that

  there were some in the South African defense establishment who had

  anything but Israel's best interests at heart.

  The writer claimed he believed that Israel might actually be in danger

  of a nuclear attack, and that the best line of inquiry for us to pursue

  was with a South African defense contractor called Phoenix AG."

  Natterman caught his breath. After several moments, he said, "
Forgive

  me, Stern, but there's something I don't understand here. You told me

  you were retired. This situation seems serious enough. that Israel

  would be making a significant effort to investigate it."

  Stern's smile carried the bitterness of a lifetime's disillusionment.

  "You would think that, wouldn't you? But some people don't see it that

  way, Professor. South Africa is Israel's nuclear partner, remember? No

  one in Jerusalem wants to upset that status quo.

  The Israeli/South African 'special relationship' is so close that, as we

  speak, a secret contingency plan exists to remove South Africa's entire

  stockpile of nuclear weapons to Israel in the event, that the blacks

  appear likely to overthrow the government."

  Natterman's eyes grew wide. "My God. This is all so unbelievable. Why

  would Israel sup orta repressive, even genocidal state like South

  Afiica) "The Israeli people probably wouldn't, Professor. But decisions

  guiding Israel's nuclear program were never voted on in the Knesset.

  Israel's nuclear policy is formed by a very few men who happen to hold

  the key positions in the government." Stern sighed. "And some men will

  do anything in the name of survival. For some Jews, the Holocaust

  justifies any act to prevent a repetition of history, even a preemptive

  Holocaust perpetrated by Jews." Stern reached beneath his seat,

  withdrew an orange from his leather bag, and slowly began to peel it.

  "Professor, how much do you know about Israel's resistance to the

  British during the Mandate and World War Two?"

  Natterman shrugged. "I know about the Haganah."

  "What about the Zionist terrorist groups?"

  "The Stern Gang and the Irgun?"

  "Yes.

  "Some. Which did you fight with?"

  "That is unimportant now. What matters is that prior to World War Two,

  both groups violently resisted the British occupation of Palestine. But

  when the war broke out, the two groups split. The Irgun supported the

  British, rightly believing that Israel could never be born in a world

  under Hitler. But the Stern Gang believed that driving out the British

  was more important than defeating the Nazis."

  Natterman's eyes widened in disbelief "The Stern Gang actually sent

  delegations to meet with representatives of Hitler's Reich and

  Mussolini's Italy. They actually promised to fight for the influence of

  Germany and Italy in the Middle East, if Hitler and Mussolini would