Leaving Berlin: A Novel

by Joseph Kanon

  “And we run interference.”

  “You’re setting her up,” Campbell said quietly.

  “Would you have sent the cable otherwise?”

  Campbell looked away.

  “Sir? Sign here.” Handing Campbell the authorization letter. The clerk turned to Alex. “Nice to have you with us. We all wondered who you were. The protected source.”

  “Not anymore.”

  “No, not anymore,” Campbell said. “All right. Now you’re official. What else?”

  “We wait for the cable, then we go.” He made a show of checking his watch.

  “Alan, get a car. Brady and Davis, I guess. That enough?” he said to Alex.

  “She’s only expecting me. Troops might scare her off. It’s just the two of them. I think we can handle it. But your call.”

  Campbell thought for a second. “All right. Never mind, Alan.”

  “Anything I can do?” the clerk said, eyes excited.

  “No. Just start a file on this one. He’s worried about his pension.” He turned to Alex. “And what’s your next bright idea?”

  “With Markovsky? He’s all yours. I’d put him on a plane for Wiesbaden. Show him in public this time. Just for the hell of it.”

  “Is that what you’d do,” Campbell said, stubbing out the cigarette.

  When the cable confirmation came through, Campbell got up to go.

  “I’ll get my coat.”

  A minute, two. Time enough for Alex to make his calls. An empty office next to Alan’s. Dieter, then Markus. Finished before Campbell got back.

  Alex drove. “She knows the car,” he said.

  It was a long trip back into town, through Wilmersdorf, then the more crowded West End.

  “I don’t think you’re going to need that,” Alex said finally, nodding toward Campbell’s pocket. “They’re not expecting—”

  “You’re new to this. You corner a man like Markovsky, you’d better be ready for anything.”

  Alex was quiet for a minute.

  “New,” he said. “It feels longer. What did you think? When Washington said they were sending me.”

  “Think? I thought you’d be a pain in the ass. First timer. In Berlin. You don’t want to be a freshman here. It’s dangerous.”

  “But maybe an opportunity for you. Somebody who doesn’t know the ropes. Easier to play.”

  “To play.”

  “You told me Willy was a leak and I just swallowed it.”

  “Willy was a leak.”

  “After you said so. And he wasn’t around to say anything. You know, I keep thinking about Lützowplatz. You said it wasn’t supposed to go that way, but how was it supposed to go? I thought they were after me. But what would be the point of setting me up so soon? You hadn’t even run me yet. But I’d make a great decoy if you wanted Willy out of the way. He’d die protecting me. But the others weren’t supposed to get killed. That’s what went wrong. You thought I’d just stand there pissing my pants. No gun. You never thought I’d kill anybody.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Willy said you had a Polish name. Hard to pronounce, so you changed it. You still have family there? Is that how they did it? Use that leverage? You were always interested in whether I had family in the East. You knew how that worked.”

  “How they did what?” Campbell said.

  “Turn you. So was it family? It’d be easy to check, I guess, now that I know where to look. But maybe something else. Lots of ways to do it. Look at my friend Markus. Anything he can use. But I’d guess family. I don’t see you as the believer type.”

  “Turn me. What the fuck—?”

  “It was you,” Alex said simply. “Only two people knew I was taking Erich to RIAS. You and Dieter. But I changed things around. And when we got to the airport, what did I find? Howley’s office hadn’t called to clear us. All right, maybe a fuckup. Except everything there’s like clockwork. No fuckups or the planes don’t turn around. And Howley’s office gives us the go-ahead like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Like they would have if you had called. But you didn’t. Why should you? You knew we were never going to get to the airport. We’d be dead. Or in a holding cell somewhere. Why waste the call?”

  “You’re out of your mind.”

  “Am I? Then there’s the little comedy with Saratov. Our friend going to Moscow. Not your idea, I think. He just couldn’t resist. Two can play at that game. But how did he know Markovsky wasn’t in Wiesbaden? That we couldn’t just pull him out of our hat and make the Moscow story go away? Only two people knew that. You and Dieter. So we’re back where we started. It was you.”

  “And not Dieter.”

  “No. You.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because Dieter knows Markovsky’s dead and you don’t. You never would have gone on this little joyride if you didn’t think he was alive.”

  “Dead?”

  “But you didn’t know that. So neither do the Russians. Or they’d have been all over it.”

  “Then what are we doing?”

  “I want my life back. And you’re going to get it for me. They won’t say no to the Agency.”

  “Because I sent one cable? Wait’ll you see the next one. What do you think you’re worth now? To the Agency. You think anybody gives a rat’s ass about you? Because you gave a speech? You’re not useful anymore, that’s all that matters.”

  “I thought you might feel that way. That’s why the cable went first. And the speech is just what State will want to hear. So, now one more piece. A little insurance. To show the Agency how valuable I am.”

  “What? By telling stories about me? Who the fuck’s going to believe you?”

  “No one maybe.” He turned to glance at him. “I don’t care if you get away with it. I don’t care about you at all. I just wanted you to know I know. Maybe Willy knew too, or suspected. Is that why? Tell me something. How long were you going to keep running me before I was just another Willy? Once Markovsky disappeared, I wasn’t good for much. Gossip. Why were the Russians so interested in him, by the way? One of their own. Let me guess.”

  “More guessing.”

  “They wanted to get something on him. So Saratov could be the broom. Clean house. Man with a German mistress. This is the West to them. And he’d been here a long time. So a few personal details, for the files, just to make the case look real. Before Saratov came in to save everything. Start putting all those corrupting influences on trial. Jesus, Campbell, how did you feel doing this?”

  Campbell was quiet for a minute. “You need to stop now. Before someone starts taking any of this seriously.”

  “It was you.”

  “Then you’re taking a helluva chance.”

  “With you? Only a little one. I think you like other people to do it for you. And I have a gun too.” He looked over. “When you corner a man, you’d better be ready for anything, right? And I wouldn’t think twice. Not now. The last time I was in Lützowplatz I killed a man for you. That was hard. But that was a while ago. This time it would be easy.”

  “Corner a man. With what? Some wild story? You haven’t cornered me.”

  “No. I’m going to let somebody else do that.”

  “What?”

  “It’s a pity your Russians don’t share things with the Germans. Who you are, for instance. You should learn to trust them more. Otherwise, you start working at cross purposes.”

  “What are—?”

  “Here we are.”

  “Where?”

  “Lützowplatz. You weren’t here last time. You sent me instead. Into a trap. You wouldn’t think it, though. All open like this. So I thought, why not Lützowplatz this time.”

  “For what?”

  “To pick up Markovsky.”

  “Who’s dead.”

  “Mm. How are you going to explain that?”

  “Me?”

  Alex started around the square, listening for a screech of tires, but they swept past the south side of the
square in silence, then up the street where his house had been. Where was Markus?

  “What are you doing?”

  Now the north leg, toward the bridge, almost completing the square. Markus didn’t know they were coming from Dahlem, from the south. Maybe he was waiting on the bridge, with a view of the whole square. Or maybe something had gone wrong. Another turn.

  “What the hell are you doing?” Alarmed now. “Get out of here!”

  Back to the bottom, about to turn and circle again. Where was he?

  Campbell grabbed at the wheel, pulling right, out of the turn, so that they were shooting south out of the square. “Drive.”

  Alex yanked back, breaking Campbell’s awkward hold, stepping on the gas.

  “Fuck,” Campbell said and lunged now, fighting over the wheel, so that when he pulled it back the car skidded across the street, scraping into a standing wall. Alex stopped.

  “Back up. Get out of here.”

  But now a car was swerving out of the canal embankment, where it had been waiting, racing toward them, a matter of seconds, the same screech, blocking the car, two men jumping out, guns drawn, yanking the car doors open. Markus looked in.

  “Where is he?”

  “He’s got him,” Alex said. “Careful. He pulled a gun on me. He’s American intelligence.”

  “What the fuck—?” Campbell said.

  “Don’t move. Hold your hands out,” Markus said to Campbell. Then, to Alex, “What happened?”

  “He tricked Irene. About moving Markovsky. But he didn’t know I’d bring him here. To you. Just take him and question him. Whatever you have to do. He knows where Markovsky is. It’s just a matter of getting him to tell you. Then you’ve got him.”

  “What are you—?” Campbell said.

  “Shut up. Get in the car,” Markus said, waving the gun to his car.

  “I wouldn’t hold out,” Alex said to Campbell. “It’s never worth it.”

  “He’s lying,” Campbell said to Markus. Then to Alex, “You lied to me.”

  “You lied to me. That doesn’t make us even.”

  “Alex, what—?”

  “Go ahead,” Alex said to Campbell. “Tell him who you are.”

  “Bastard.”

  “He’s Don Campbell,” Alex said. “CIA in Berlin. He’s got Markovsky. He can tell you where he is.”

  “That’s right,” Campbell said. “He’s dead.”

  “Dead?” Markus said.

  “Then what are you doing here?” Alex said. “And now you’re wasting time. In the end we’re going to find out anyway. Markus?”

  Markus nodded to his partner, who stepped toward Campbell, waving him to Markus’s car.

  “Meier, for chrissake—”

  “Just tell him what he wants to know.” Alex faced him. “I don’t need any more cables. You’ve said everything you needed to say. You’re not useful anymore.”

  Campbell’s eyes opened wide.

  “Cables?” Markus said.

  “Better get him out of here,” Alex said. “In case it’s a trap. Someone else waiting.”

  “Trap,” Campbell said, almost spitting it. “I’m working with you,” he said to Markus. “Check with Saratov. He’s lying to you.”

  “Working with me?” Markus said.

  “Russian security.” He caught Alex’s eye, a second.

  “With the Russians?” Alex said, sarcastic. “Don’t you think they might have mentioned that? Or did you just join up now?” He turned to Markus. “We’re wasting time.”

  Markus looked from one to the other, then nodded again to his partner, who grabbed Campbell’s arm.

  “You fuck,” Campbell yelled at Alex, breaking from the partner’s grip and pushing him away. He reached into his pocket, the gun out almost before the movement registered. Alex’s eyes went to the barrel, pointed at him, as he fumbled for his own. No. A deafening sound to his left, the whole square filled with it, Markus shooting, Campbell’s gun dropping out of his hand as he fell. Alex ran over. Eyes still open. Markus had shot to wound, still hoping for questions later. Alex raised his gun. No more lines to cross.

  “Alex—!” Markus shouted. The partner stumbled toward them and stopped, not sure what to do.

  Campbell’s eyes fluttered. “Don’t,” he said faintly, a whimper.

  “You know what Willy taught me?” Alex said to Campbell. “Or was it you? No witnesses.”

  His finger on the trigger, unable to move, a stopped moment. Not who I am.

  “Alex—!” Markus said again.

  Alex fired, the explosion filling the air around them, Campbell’s head jerking back, pieces splitting off, soft. Alex stood there shaking, his hand trembling. Not easier. Not who I am. But who I am now.

  Markus was staring at him, his face moving, some storm passing over it, then still.

  “The man in the English coat,” he said. “It was you. She saw you.”

  Alex looked over. “Yes.”

  “Then you knew—” He nodded toward Campbell.

  “Yes.”

  “You lied to me.”

  Alex nodded. “To both of you.”

  He turned to Markus’s partner. “Help me get him in the car. The trunk. See if there’s something we can wrap his head in. We have to get him off the street.”

  Markus just stared.

  “Well, you don’t want him, do you? You don’t want to go anywhere near him. Or Saratov—”

  “What are you doing?”

  “We were ambushed. It’s a miracle I’m alive. He went down in the line of duty. Which will make his cable even better. Coming from a hero.”

  “Cable,” Markus said, still in a fog.

  “Never mind,” Alex said, lifting Campbell’s feet. “Point is, you’ll need to think what to tell Saratov. If you stay.”

  “He was with the Russians?” Markus said, still working it out.

  Alex nodded. “So let’s explore our options. Thanks,” he said to the partner, Campbell now stowed in the trunk. “Better wait in the car.” The man looked to Markus, who nodded.

  “Our options,” he said to Alex. “You lied to me.”

  “Well, now I’m going to make it up to you. Let’s see how this works. You just shot a Russian agent. And you recruited an American one. Which puts you in an awkward position. No, don’t bother.” He indicated Markus’s gun. “I’m on the radio tomorrow, on tape, turning my back on the East. A real embarrassment for the SMA. Your recruit. So you’re still in an awkward position whether I’m dead or not. And Campbell here knew you recruited me—he asked for your name—so it’s probably in a Russian file somewhere. Maybe you can talk your way out of it somehow. But Saratov doesn’t look like the understanding type. So that’s option one.”

  “And two?” Markus said quietly.

  “You once offered me a job. Now I’m offering you one.”

  “A job.”

  “You wanted to work together.”

  “Work for you.”

  “Only for a little while. I’m going home. And you’re going to help. My insurance.”

  “How?”

  “I’m going to recruit you. A nice big fish. The Agency is going to be impressed. Maybe even grateful.”

  “A promotion for you.”

  “Better. A ticket. Home. You’re a good catch, you know everything about the German security force. And even if you didn’t, the embarrassment factor alone—”

  “You want me to work for the Americans? Are you crazy?”

  “Wake up.”

  Markus jerked his head back.

  “You’re not just in an awkward position. You’re done here.”

  “Go to the West?” He stopped. “Leave? You don’t understand what we’re trying to build here.”

  “You’re building a prison. You just can’t see it. You’re one of the guards right now, so it looks all right to you. See how it looks tomorrow. If you’re dumb enough to hang around that long. Markus, I’m offering you a chance.”

  “To be a t
raitor.”

  “A chance for you and your mother.”

  “Mutti? You want her to go to the West too? She would never—”

  “It would be nice to think there was another way to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Make you see. Have you been out to Sachsenhausen? That’s where she’s been. Worse. It would be easier if you could see that, how things really are. But it’s probably too late. The hook’s in. So we have to take a different approach. You know how it works. Some leverage. Some pressure. Snap.” He made a closing sound with his fingers. “And you’ve got him. Like you had me.”

  “So you’re blackmailing me.”

  “And how does it feel? Ask Roberta. Ask any of them. Your GIs.” He cocked his head. “You’re finished there.”

  Markus said nothing, staring, his mouth slightly open.

  “I’m offering you a lifesaver. Grab it. Get your mother and go to twenty-one Föhrenweg in Dahlem. Now. Before anybody starts asking questions about him.” He looked toward the trunk. “Before your friend there starts telling people what an exciting day he had. You really think you can talk your way out of this one? Nobody’s that good. The Russians never blame themselves. They’ll blame you.”

  Markus looked up, a point that finally seemed to hit its mark.

  “Who are you?” he said, his voice distant. “I never thought, when you came—”

  “Neither did I.”

  “I thought we were friends.”

  “Did you?” he said, suddenly dismayed, seeing Kurt’s little brother. “Then trust me now. It’s your best option. The only one.”

  “You don’t do this for me. For you. To make yourself important. And then what about me? What’s my future?”

  Alex looked at him.

  “I don’t know. But at least you’ll have one.”

  * * *

  Dieter met him at the hospital lot.

  “Where’s Campbell?”

  “In there.” He pointed to the trunk.

  Dieter looked up. “You?”

  “Why would you think that.”

  “I started going over things. After you left. Who else knew you were taking Erich to RIAS?”

  “Only you. And Campbell.”

  Dieter took this in, then nodded. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Take him back to BOB. I couldn’t just leave him in the street. After the ambush. You don’t desert somebody when he saves your life. Takes a bullet for you.”