by James Quinn
“I hate you sometimes,” she said after a long silence, her gaze fixed out of the window, tears forming in her eyes.
Gorilla nodded. “I hate me too, sometimes. But now is not the time. We can sort out the stories and half-truths when we are all safe in the West. As for you, Peter, I'm sorry but the deception in Austria was necessary. We are all part of a bigger game. What you didn't know couldn't harm you or Katy. I had to be sure.”
Peter smiled at his father. “I understand, Jack. I think I would have done the same.”
Gorilla slowed the car down; he was in no hurry now, they had time on their hands and they didn't want to attract any attention from the Vopos. They passed the turning to Biesenthal and continued along Berliner Chausee.
“Listen, both of you. We have one shot at this and you have to get it right,” said Gorilla. “You take the old Trabant – it's the kind of car that a young couple from the East would have, all they would be able to afford. You are Heidi and Otto Guttman and you are travelling to West Berlin to attend the funeral of Heidi's mother, Greta. Do you understand?”
They both nodded.
“There are clothes for you in the back of the car, things that would fit your lifestyle and budget; a simple black dress and a cheap suit. You take the Helmstadt–Berlin autobahn and head to Checkpoint Alpha in Helmstadt. I want you to arrive early morning, that's when it's busiest and it's when the shift changes, so everyone will be tired. That's when they miss details. It's also when our 'tame' border guard starts his duty. Not before eight, but no later than nine.”
“The car is clean, so no weapons, nothing. That all gets dumped before you go anywhere near the border. The paperwork is first-rate and genuine; you have ID cards, confirmation papers from the local police in your area, and a signed visa. The funeral is genuine, as are the people, so you at least have a back-stop in case you are asked any questions,” he said, his mind running at double speed trying to get as much information to them as he could.
“Peter, when you get to the checkpoint, turn off the engine, let them check you papers, and keep the talking down to the minimum. Understand?”
“Understood,” said Peter, ever the professional operator. In truth, he knew more about how the Border Guards worked than Jack Grant probably did these days. He was comfortable with it; after all, as part of his trade he had passed through borders illegally in many countries. It was just this time that he had his newly acquired family to look after and consider.
“Katy, how's your German these days?” asked Gorilla.
“Rostig,” she said carefully. Rusty.
Gorilla rolled his eyes. “I knew we should have practiced together more when you were a kid.”
“Don't worry, I can get her through, I'll cover for her,” said Peter confidently.
Gorilla looked both of them over and gave them a mental seal of approval, satisfied with his protégés. “You take it easy going over the border, nothing dramatic. Remember the man I told you about, Oxley? He'll be waiting for you both on the other side. He's expecting you both at a certain time. He'll protect you and explain everything.”
“What about you? Aren't you coming with us?” asked Katy, sounding worried.
“I have a separate car,” lied Gorilla. “It's safer that way. I have my own cover story and I'll literally be two cars behind you.”
It was a little after midnight when they stopped in a small hamlet just outside of Rudnitz to collect the other car, a grey Lada. It wasn't the prettiest of operational cars, it was chunky and heavy and steered like a lump of rock, but it was dependable and fast when it had to be.
The car had been parked in a side road at the back of the small provincial train station. Gorilla hopped out of the Trabant, went over to the Lada and opened up the boot. Minutes later, he came back holding three sleeping bags.
“Here,” he said, pushing them over to Katy and Peter. “This will help tonight.”
“What are we doing?” asked Katy, confused.
“We are sleeping in the cars,” replied Peter.
“Correct. It's too dangerous to try to book in anywhere – a hotel, guest house – it's just not worth the risk. This way, it keeps us off the radar of the Vopos or the SSD. Sooner or later, someone will find out about what has happened in Wandlitz, probably the next security shift, and then the alarm will be raised. At the moment, we have the advantage. Even if Vogel survives being shot, he won't want too much attention on what he's been up to,” said Gorilla, wriggling into the sleeping bag in the front seat.
“And then we cross the border first thing in the morning?” said Katy, struggling into her bag in the back seat. “Smart, Dad, very smart.”
“I have my moments,” said Gorilla.
“I'll take first watch,” said Peter, checking his gun and then heading towards the Lada.
“Good man,” replied Gorilla, who already had his eyes closed and was getting ready to bed down.
“Why doesn't he sleep in the car with us?” asked Katy, watching him go.
“It's the smart move. He provides over-watch. If anybody tries to get too close, he'll take them down. It's the way we do things, love,” said Gorilla, his eyes closed. “I'll relieve him in a few hours.”
Katy settled back in the darkness of the car. She was exhausted, but…
“It's the way we do things.”
Already, she felt that this stranger and her father, her dad, had connected over a life that she never even knew existed.
Chapter Six
Katy awoke an hour later. Sleep had come to her easily despite the horrors of the day.
She looked around to remind herself of where she was; the windows lined with condensation, the chill to her hands, and her father snoring softly in the front seat. The car, the Trabant, was parked in a disused car park at the back of the train station in Rudnitz, she remembered. She rubbed her eyes to wipe the sleep away and then cleaned off a little spot in the condensation in the rear window. She could make out the figure of Peter watching over them in the Lada.
“You should try to get some more sleep,” said her dad in a low murmur.
“I thought you were asleep. Sorry, did I disturb you?” she whispered back.
He cocked one eye open and looked over at her. “I am asleep… kind of.”
They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the peace and quiet and each other's company again.
“Why didn't you tell me any of this?” she said eventually.
He opened his eyes again. “You were only a little girl. How was I meant to explain all of that?”
“You could have tried.”
“I guess,” he said. “But the longer it went on, the harder it became, a bit like breaking off a love affair. By the time you were an adult, it had been pushed to the back of my mind. I'm not sure I would have known where to start.”
“And then all this happened?” she said sadly.
He nodded. “And then all this happened, yes. I did what I thought was right at the time – obviously it was the wrong choice. Hindsight is a wonderful thing, Katy. Look, no one gives you a user manual when you become a parent. I'm not making excuses, it's just that you have to make tough decisions. It's harder still when you live the life that I led.”
But she knew her dad and she wasn't letting him get off that lightly. “And what Vogel said… about you, about my mother, about everyone…”
He wriggled around on the seat so that he could look her in the eyes. “It's true. Look, that man did his best to destroy our family. He killed, he lied, he manipulated. But we didn't let him win, he still hasn't won. We won't let him win.”
“And what about Peter?” she said, nodding her head towards the Lada behind them.
Gorilla sighed. His mind, if he was being honest, was still torn about the subject of Peter. “Peter is not lost to us. Not anymore. He was for a long while, but we have found him again. You have a brother. I have a son. He is going to need you when we get to the West. He's going to need both of us.”
/> “I know. I'll look after him,” she said, smiling.
Gorilla held out his hand across the seat and Katy took it; that father to daughter connection. Words didn't need to be spoken, it went beyond that.
“Get some rest,” he said. “It's almost time to take over the night-watch.”
He climbed out of his sleeping bag and then made his way to the Lada to relieve Peter and let him get some rest.
Katy watched him go through her little porthole that she had cleaned off in the window. She loved him so much, his gruffness, his humour and his strength. She couldn't imagine not having her dad around anymore. This other person that she had been told about; the assassin, the spy, the man who lived in the shadows? Well, she would deal with all of that in a new time and a new place, but not the here and now.
And Peter? He was a carbon copy of his father in looks, skills and personality. She had a brother, a complete family for the first time in her life. She snuggled back into her sleeping bag, closed her eyes and, for the first time in a very long while, she felt safe and secure.
Chapter Seven
For a spy crossing over a border covertly, or going 'in on the black', as it is known in the trade, it is the same as a boxer going into the ring, or an actor performing live on stage and delivering a Shakespeare soliloquy. It is where they earn their money. It is what they do. At its core, it is who they are and nothing comes close to the feeling of illicit espionage at its highest level where there are no second chances.
They had risen at 6am and had changed into their disguises for the day; Katy in a dowdy black funeral dress and headscarf, Peter in a cheap and ill-fitting black suit. Gorilla had on his customary heavy black winter jacket, black cap and gloves.
“We all look tired and worn out,” said Katy, feeling cold and exhausted as she fixed her headscarf.
“It's perfect, it's how people that live here look, we will blend in well,” said Peter.
Gorilla went over everything again. Two-car convoy, I'll be right behind you. Checkpoint Alpha is a soft entry. Have your papers and cover story ready. Look out for a guard called Huber; he's our guy to get us through. He knows what you look like. Oxley will be on the other side, waiting for you. I'll follow and get to you as soon as I can.
He made them recite it back. Then once more. Then again, until he was satisfied.
They took the cars and made ready, Katy and Peter in the Trabant, Gorilla in the Lada follow-car, and they made it safely onto the Berlin-Helmstadt autobahn, setting a decent pace so that they would arrive exactly when they needed to, at eight in the morning.
Checkpoint Alpha was a tree-lined choke point; a sieve that was designed to filter those passing through its route slowly, carefully, and it was almost used exclusively by the US Military to pass between the East and the West. Peter slowed the Trabant down and started the final few miles to Checkpoint Alpha at Helmstadt.
“We'll be there in a few moments,” said Peter, his eyes flicking back to keep an eye on the Lada in the rear view mirror.
“Is he still with us?” asked Katy, registering what he was doing.
Peter nodded. “He's two cars back, but still with us.”
Katy kept her eyes on the side mirror, looking back at the little Lada that her dad was driving. As they approached Alpha, they came across a smattering of cars in front of them and the pace of the traffic was starting to slow down.
Finally, they arrived at the crossing and she estimated that there were about a dozen vehicles in front of them. It would take some time, she guessed, hoping that her nerves could take it. She looked over at her brother; he looked so cool and composed, as if it was something he did all the time. She locked eyes with her dad in the mirror. Don't you leave us, she thought. Don't you dare leave us! She noticed her hands were sweating.
They were just about to slowly cross the demarcation line to the East German Customs barrier when she saw him – saw the bastard turn the car around and head back in the other direction, the direction from where they had originally come from, back into East Germany!
“He's… he's gone! He's turned the car around!” she cried.
“What?”
“Where is he going, Peter? He's turned back! Why would he do that?”
She spun in the seat, hoping to see if he had changed his mind, made a mistake and wanted to be here with his children, free and safe and in the West. But he hadn't. The last thing she saw was a plume of smoke as the Lada disappeared into the distance.
“I don't know… We can't stop, Katherine, we have to go forward,” said Peter, his eyes flicking towards the East German guards. Peter took a breath and tried to calm himself; the last thing that they needed now was to lose their heads. Take it one step at a time, he told himself and for God's sake keep Katy calm.
They were ordered to pull the car over at the Customs point, followed by a bang on the window and a gruff hand was popped through, asking for their papers. A quick glance and they were thrust back through the window and he was ordered to drive to the Soviet Checkpoint.
Peter steered the car a further hundred and seventy-five yards up the road before he was met by a Soviet Guard in a heavy greatcoat, who manned the barrier. They were ordered out of the car and told to go into a low wooden hut, an office of some kind.
“Stay with me,” he told Katy. “Just let me do the talking.”
The hut was warm and smelt of day-old coffee. After presenting themselves at the desk and a quick knock on the glass screen, they were soon greeted by a tubby little functionary who asked for their papers. The guard barely looked at the young couple who stood nervously in his hut, holding hands. He ceremoniously took out a rubber stamp and smacked it down on an official-looking piece of paper.
“Drive to the next barrier and show this,” said the tubby guard, in Russian-accented German.
They stepped out into the warm sunlight and headed back to the Trabant. Peter noticed that Katy was staring back into East Germany and took her hand again to break her away from her fixation.
“Get in the car,” whispered Peter. “It's going to be fine, I promise.”
It was another short drive of a hundred yards until they reached the East German Barrier, where Vopos and Border Guards mingled, smoking and keeping warm. Another knock on the window and this time they were told to get out and wait beside the car. Eventually, a Border Guard came over to them, Junior Officer Class by his actions and mannerisms.
“My men will inspect your vehicle. Papers and Pass. Now!” he said abruptly. The officer was tall and severe and his manner was that of a man in a hurry. Peter and Katy stood like children as he inspected the papers.
“Reason for leaving the GDR?” he asked them.
Peter filled the gap. “We are attending my wife's mother's funeral in the West.”
“When?”
“Today,” replied Peter, squeezing Katy's hand gently.
“You will return when?”
“Tomorrow. I have to be back at work in the factory in the morning.”
“What work do you do?”
“I work on the production line at a tyre factory.”
Peter looked down and saw that the badge of the officer said R. Huber. If betrayal was going to happen, it would happen now. They were putting their fate in the hands of someone they knew nothing about and, as a professional intelligence operative, that scared him. The moment was as tense as a gunfight before the shooting starts.
“Wait here,” said Huber, disappearing back into his hut.
Katy looked over at her brother and he smiled what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Would Huber come back out holding a weapon to arrest them? Was he calling for back-up, ready to whisk them away to SSD interrogation cells?
Finally, Huber came back out and paused for a second, turning his face up to the sun for a brief moment before walking up to them and handing back their papers.
“Drive to the Western Barriers. I am sorry for your loss,” he said perfunctorily, before turning around and heading
back to the warmth of his hut. Eventually, the guards finished the search of the interior of the car and beckoned for them to leave. The short drive, no more than seventy-five yards, seemed surreal, a blur, until eventually they were over the line and officially in West Germany. Like most terrifying events in life, once it was over and done, its effect dissipated quickly.
“Peter, we have to go back.” Even as she said it, she realised how stupid she sounded.
Peter pulled the car over in the parking zone once they had passed the control office.
“Why are we stopping?” she asked, turning around to look at her brother.
“Because of him,” said Peter, pointing forward at an older, shabby-looking gentleman, wearing a bad suit and an overcoat that had seen better days. He was coming towards the car, waving at them like an old friend. He tapped on the driver's side window and Peter rolled it down.
“My word, so good to have you here at last. I've been here all night in case you had to come through early. I bet you've been through the trenches, haven't you? Don't worry, I'm here to look after you. Your dad, Jack, sent me. The name's Oxley, but you can call me Freddy.”
Book 5: Reload
Chapter One
Magdeburg – September 1989
Before he began his mission, he knew that he had to come here – come and lay old ghosts to rest.
Jack Grant stood in the clearing and drank in the quiet of the surrounding woods. Today, it was beautiful. The sun was giving the grounds a warm glow; the trees were lush and vibrant. It was a place of peace and beauty. He felt calm and at ease as the sun shone over him.
Not like the last time that he had been here. That time had been almost thirty years earlier… it had been a different time. It had belonged to another life.
