by Paul Grant
‘Who?’
‘One of your other comrades who was in the Lubjanka with you.’
‘Ah, you mean Marz?’
‘Yes, yes, the thieving little shit, Marz.’
‘Well, if you know so much about me, you’ll know about Marz, too,’ Klaus said.
Wiebke was quiet for a moment. He had a smug grin on his face, as if the hysteria might return at any moment.
‘You see you thought Marz had betrayed you all that time, but he didn’t, Klaus. It wasn’t Marz.’
Klaus was listening, but wasn’t sure what he was saying. He felt like it was one of those moments in life just before something that you always believed was about to be revealed as a lie. The building blocks, no matter how bad, were about to be swept away.
‘How did you think I bought my freedom?’ Wiebke said, still smiling.
Klaus could feel his chest starting to heave, emotion stirring inside him, all the hurt, all the pain, the death of so many good men.
‘It just so happened there was a very clever Commissar on the other side of those lines in Stalingrad, an ambitious one. I was happy to give him my story,’ he said.
‘Dobrovsky,’ Klaus whispered.
‘Yes, that’s right, Vladimir Ilyich Dobrovsky. He’s a driven man, our Vladimir. Mind, there’s good reason for that. Do you know why he’s so driven, Klaus?’
Klaus shook his head, despising the man, yet hanging on his every word, knowing that what he’d done to Ulrich was only the tip of the iceberg.
‘A German unit snatched his brother from a trench, near the large grain silo in Stalingrad. You know which unit, don’t you, Klaus?’
Klaus’ hands were shaking, itching to be around Wiebke’s neck.
‘You know that Dobrovsky himself found his beloved little brother, bound and gagged and shot in the back that very next morning. You know what’s coming, don’t you, Klaus?’ Wiebke was enjoying every moment.
Klaus mumbled it somehow, through blind anger and gritted teeth, the heat rising under his collar. ‘You shot them, Wiebke.’
‘Me? Me?’ he was theatrical now. ‘No, no, Klaus, come on. I could hardly have told Dobrovsky that, could I? How could I have hoped to build all this for myself with such a tale?’
‘You bastard, you utter bastard.’
He was laughing again now. ‘It was Marz. I told him it was Oskar Marz. I always hated him. So when Dobrovsky found you all, about to board that train home, he was actually only looking for Marz, but he took you all along, too. Like a bonus I suppose. He tortured Marz until he pissed himself. Then he had him shot.’
Klaus fumbled for the knife, determined to shut him up, beside himself with anger, but not only anger; guilt. Guilt for his own stupidity. Guilt for what he’d told Reuter and all those people he’d met since Lubjanka. But most of all, guilt for his diminutive, if slightly shady, friend, poor Oskar Marz. All along, the man responsible for killing those two Russian soldiers was also the despicable man responsible for their denunciation. Ernst Wiebke was still laughing, not even looking at him. What he didn’t know was that the knife was in Klaus’ hand, in his pocket. He couldn’t have stopped himself even if he’d tried.
Klaus sank the knife into Wiebke’s throat and ripped it sideways. The jugular went, Wiebke’s eyes wide in shock. The blood spurted in a torrent. Klaus didn’t stop. He stabbed him again and again. He did it over and over, totally consumed by his anger.
In the end, it wasn’t even about Ulrich or Marz, it was about Klaus and his comrades.
Klaus stood up, away from the body, blood dripping from the knife onto the floor. Ernst Wiebke was a bloody mess.
***
Klaus was plastered in his blood.
He couldn’t return to the streets looking like that. He poured himself another glass of vodka and quickly downed it. He had to focus.
He went through to the bedroom. There, he removed his soiled clothing and cleaned himself up over the bath. He selected some of Wiebke’s clothes from the wardrobe. They were a bit big, but given the circumstances, he didn’t have a lot of choice.
He was calmer now. Relief ran through him. At the time, Klaus thought Marz had set them up and bought his freedom, but now he knew it had been Wiebke. Dobrovsky had been on the lookout for them, more especially Marz, to avenge the death of his brother. Now he could understand Dobrovsky’s thirst for revenge, even though it was mistaken. The whole sorry saga had come to an end with Wiebke’s death and Klaus felt he had put the past right, somehow. Justice had prevailed after all those years. Another layer of the onion had been peeled back.
It was only then, clean and with fresh clothes, Klaus was able to think about the plan to free Ulrich. He was about to make his way back into the living area of the apartment when he heard an audible gasp. Still hidden, Klaus peered through the gap in the bedroom door. Standing at the external door was Alfons. Klaus had forgotten about him. He was staring in horror at Wiebke’s body. Klaus wondered if he would have to kill him as well.
He needn’t have worried.
Alfons swivelled on his heel and was out of the door. Klaus was in two minds whether to run after him, but he knew he couldn’t stop him without the gun. It was clear he’d raise the alarm; he had to get out.
There were at least two hours until the rendezvous with Burzin’s men to collect Ulrich. In the meantime, he just had to put distance between himself and the apartment. He went back into the bedroom and picked up the Tokarev. He could smell it. It was well oiled and fully loaded. He wasn’t surprised that Wiebke had taken good care of it. Klaus slipped it into his jacket pocket, knowing he would probably need it before the night was out.
With that, Klaus left the apartment without a backward glance at Wiebke. He didn’t deserve any consideration. Now he paused at the back side of the stairwell door which led to the street, not knowing what he’d find on the other side. He knew it might not be good news if Alfons’ reinforcements were waiting.
He stepped out warily onto the pavement. No sooner had he done that than a beige-coloured van screeched up beside him.
With the abduction still firmly in his mind, the Tokarev was out, ready for whatever they might throw at him.
He didn’t need the gun.
‘Get in!’ Markus was sitting in the driving seat.
He hesitated, still sore at his old comrade.
‘Klaus, I followed you here. If I did, somebody else could have. I saw Alfons running away. We have to move. Now get in the bloody van!’
Klaus thought about the van. It could well be useful. He jumped in, his pragmatism overcoming his emotion.
CHAPTER 37
17 JUNE 1953, EAST BERLIN
It had been two hours since the MGB colonel had left.
Hans couldn’t help wondering what the visit had been about. It was unusual. In his time there, he’d never seen anybody visit a prisoner in his cell, in fact it wasn’t allowed. It was clear the Russian had power. But why was he so interested in Prisoner 32? What was so special about him?
Hans had been watching the prisoner in cell 32 ever since. For a while, he hadn’t moved, sitting against the wall, head in his hands. Hans couldn’t help thinking the Russian had been the bearer of bad news. Of course, it couldn’t be much worse than stuck in this place as a prisoner, but this was something different. The prisoner’s head and clothing had been wet. Hans thought back to Dieter’s words about the ‘special’ area. He thought about the other prisoner, Paul Hauser. He made a decision to keep an eye on Prisoner 32.
He made one last check on him. The prisoner was now lying on his side, his eyes closed. He would check if he’d moved after his break. He marked the necessary down in the log, hearing somebody coming down the stairs.
It was Dieter. ‘There’s a call for you in the admin building.’
‘For me?’
He nodded. ‘Congratulations by the way, I hear you’re in charge tonight.’
Hans smiled and left him to it. Making his way across the yard, he wondere
d who could be calling him. He hoped it was Müller to tell him his work in this sorry place was done.
In the office, one of the clerks was just leaving. ‘Erdmann? The phone on the desk near the door.’
Hans nodded his thanks and picked up the receiver.
‘Erdmann.’
‘I hope your head wasn’t too bad this morning.’
Hans pulled the receiver away from his ear to protect it from the booming laughter.
‘Alexei, I am fine now. It was a good evening. We should do it again.’
‘It was indeed. Listen, I’ve dealt with that little problem we discussed.’
‘Really?’
‘You’ll be back with your unit in a few days.’
‘That’s great, Alexei. Thank you. How did you manage it?’
‘Best not to say too much. I’ll let Müller give you the official news.’
‘I can’t thank you enough.’
‘Well, actually I could do with a favour. It’s important, Hans.’
‘Sure, Alexei, name it.’
CHAPTER 38
17 JUNE 1953, EAST BERLIN
Klaus didn’t say anything whilst Markus manoeuvred the van expertly around the streets of Prenzlauer Berg. Markus wasn’t his favourite person at that moment, but they still needed to get to a place of safety; what needed to be said could be said then, and not before.
‘There will be a curfew in place from ten o’clock,’ Markus said.
The larger events in East Berlin had taken a back seat to Klaus’ personal crisis. He’d almost forgotten what he’d seen in the centre of town earlier.
They’d only been travelling a few minutes when Markus pulled the van into a narrow courtyard between two industrial premises. He parked the van so it wasn’t visible from the street. Without the noise of the engine, the awkward silence was suddenly more apparent.
Markus turned to him. ‘I’m sorry, Klaus. I never wanted it to turn out like it did. For what it’s worth, I didn’t know Ulrich was your son until it was too late.’
Klaus shrugged. He knew that deep down. He’d been looking for somebody to blame for the mess Ulrich was in, and Markus bore the brunt of it.
‘I value your friendship above all other things,’ Markus said.
Klaus nodded. He’d already forgiven him a while ago. Some things were too important. Besides, his mind wasn’t really on Markus’ apology; it was stuck on what Wiebke had told him.
‘I killed him, Markus.’
‘Wiebke? You sure he’s dead?’
‘Quite sure.’
‘He had it coming. Don’t lose sleep over it.’
Klaus scoffed. ‘You don’t know just how much he deserved it.’ He turned to look at him for the first time, ‘I stabbed him over and over, Markus. I lost control.’
Markus seemed unsure what to say next. He just stared back at him.
‘It was Wiebke. He was the one who denounced us. It wasn’t Oskar. He told Dobrovsky that Marz murdered the two prisoners we took.’
Markus shook his head. ‘But Wiebke shot them.’
‘One of them was Dobrovsky’s brother. That’s why he won’t give up on any of us, and why he came all that way to Kolyma to search for you. Wiebke used us to get where he is, was, today. To save his neck to start with, after he deserted in Stalingrad, and then so Dobrovsky recruited him. He obviously learned a few other skills along the way.’
Markus’ eyes were wide as the realisation struck home.
Klaus nodded. ‘It was nothing to do with Marz. Wiebke taunted me about Marz, said he was already nearly dead from the torture before they ended his misery.’
Markus closed his eyes. ‘The poor bastard.’
‘I can’t imagine what Dobrovsky would have done to him if he thought he’d murdered his brother. I cannot believe I doubted Marz. I can’t believe that I didn’t work out what had happened.’
Markus leaned across and grabbed his shoulder. ‘How could we have worked it out? Don’t be hard on yourself, Klaus; any one of us would have done the same to Wiebke.’
Markus turned his thoughts to the present, ever the professional. ‘Alfons saw what happened. We’ve got to get out of the Russian sector, Klaus. It’s probably best to leave the van here and go on foot.’
‘I can’t go, Markus. There’s something I have to do.’
‘We can’t stay here. They’ll have the whole Russian garrison out looking for you.’
Klaus looked at his watch. It still had traces of Wiebke’s blood smeared on the face. ‘Burzin is going to deliver Ulrich to a place in Hohenschönhausen. That’s my pay-off for dealing with Wiebke. I just need to get him out of East Berlin.’
‘I see.’ He stopped for a moment. ‘You do realise Ulrich’s probably not going to be able to walk out.’
Klaus nodded. ‘That’s why I need the van.’
Markus pursed his lips. ‘You don’t only need the van, you need me… I’m coming with you, Klaus. It’s the least I can do.’
CHAPTER 39
17 JUNE 1953, EAST BERLIN
Alexei had been cryptic on the phone.
He was very careful with his words in case anybody had been listening in on their conversation. Hans knew what was required of him, and he knew it was important to his friend. Alexei had told him all the paperwork would be in order. It was to be tonight, and he knew they were relying on him. Still, it was a lot to ask.
Hans checked his watch as he waited down in the ‘U-Boot’. It wouldn’t be long now. He had a pang of concern that the paperwork would be adequate. He was worried something would come back on him, but if Alexei said it would be right, then it would be so.
He heard boots coming down the steps to the cellar. It would probably be Dieter returning from his break. He stood before Hans holding a piece of paper in his hands.
‘Did you know about this?’
‘What is it?’
‘A transport order.’ Dieter handed it over. ‘There’s a van waiting in the yard. They’re anxious to get on their way.’
Hans looked at the paper. He was nervous, his eyes darting across the paper, taking in the details.
‘It seems odd,’ Dieter said.
‘What does?’ Hans asked, still reading.
‘It’s not usually done like this.’
Hans went cold when he saw the prisoner number. Prisoner 32. The very prisoner the MGB colonel had visited earlier. This was what Alexei wanted him to do.
‘Do you think we should check with the Leutnant?’ Dieter said.
Hans’ mouth was dry. What was going on here? There was something strange about all this sudden interest in this prisoner, the visit and now this transport order. He wondered about the fate of Prisoner 32. Would he end up like Prisoner 61/1, like Paul Hauser?
Hans thought hard about Alexei. He had a decision to make, and fast.
He trusted him. He’d told Hans it was important, but this felt much more than a favour, something to ensure Hans was transferred back to his unit. That said, he’d given his word. He had to go through with it. The package must be delivered.
‘No, it’s fine. Get the prisoner prepared to leave.’
‘You sure?’
Hans turned and snapped, ‘I’m in charge here and I gave you an order, Wallach.’
CHAPTER 40
17 JUNE 1953, EAST BERLIN
Markus killed the engine.
It was now ten minutes before the agreed time. The prison in Hohenschönhausen was part of an area off-limits to ordinary Berliners. Ironically, Maria’s apartment wasn’t that far from the place where they waited, just off Landsberger Allee.
‘We’re waiting for a bread delivery van,’ Klaus explained. ‘Burzin told me the lights will be out. As soon as it pulls up, we have to approach the back doors and remove Ulrich. Nobody will help us after that point. Burzin was quite clear about that.’
Markus nodded.
‘That’s the spot they should park up.’ Klaus pointed to the crossroads to their right.
�
��Probably chosen so they can get away in any direction,’ Markus said.
‘Which suits us, because we’ll have to do the same.’
Burzin had warned Klaus that the van would only wait for five minutes. If Klaus wasn’t there, they’d take Ulrich back to where he came from and after that, there was nothing more he could do. Klaus just hoped Burzin knew what had happened to Wiebke, and that he would come through with his part of the bargain.
Markus appeared calm. He wondered how many times his new role had led him into this kind of situation. He seemed to sense Klaus’ nerves.
‘We’ll get him out, Klaus. We just have to stay calm and professional.’ He paused for a moment, then said, ‘You know there’s always a chance this could be a trap?’
‘Are you trying to make me feel better?’
He laughed. ‘Just imagine we’re crawling out into no man’s land. It’s just another op.’
‘Given one of those ops landed us in Kolyma in the first place, maybe it’s not the best comparison.’
At least there was black humour to break the tension.
‘We must wait until the last possible moment to pull the van out. You understand why that’s a sensible precaution?’
Klaus nodded, glad there was somebody like Markus to keep him straight. He felt his nerves were starting to fray after all the action of the last few days.
Dark was rapidly descending on the street. It was nearly ten o’clock and they were fast approaching the appointed time. The curfew reinforced the peace of the area. The gathering gloom lent an eerie silence to what was about to come. Klaus hoped it would all be straightforward. Knowing how things had gone in Berlin so far, he doubted it would be.
‘I hear something,’ Markus said, winding the window right down.
The sound of an approaching vehicle was now unmistakable. Gears crunched in the distance. Klaus shook his head, wondering whom Burzin had hired for the job.
