Deeper Than Red (Red Returning Trilogy) (25 page)

“Henry?” Agent Jakes responded, both hands now planted on his hips.

But Henry didn’t answer. By the time he reached them, both agents were slack-jawed at what dangled from his now gloved hand. He dropped the thick, clear-plastic bag containing one hazmat suit onto the dock, then pulled off the gloves and the diving suit, leaving them alongside the bag, which the agents now bent to visually inspect.

“Henry, what have you done?” Agent Jakes asked.

“What I had to. You got a plastic bag in your car?”

“Yeah.”

“Put this evidence inside it and keep it in your car. We’ll talk there.”

It didn’t take long to tell the tale of his night’s sojourn. When he finished, the agents seemed too excited over the suit to fret about how it was obtained. They didn’t even bother to chastise or warn Henry again.

“It looks like it hasn’t been worn,” Agent Thomlin said. “We’ll send it to the lab in Miami for testing.” She frowned. “But it might come back clean.”

“So you’d better pack something else I found near that van along with the suit,” Henry said, pulling a single, folded sheet of orange paper from the pouch at his waist. “This ought to trip a few alarms.” He held up the sheet and read, “’emergency Treatment for Exposure to SARIN.’”

T
hey didn’t stay long at Checkpoint Charlie. The sun was dropping and the place Max had promised to take them to was a long walk from there, though closer to their apartment.

By the time they arrived at the Holocaust Memorial, the sea of concrete boxes was already etched in deep shadows. As the architect intended, the ground beneath the cement stelae undulated, causing the visitor unsteady steps. The vast maze of symbolic coffins was designed to disorient those who navigated through it.

Max turned to his companions. “Ben and Anna will arrive later, as their guards intended.” He grimaced. “I’m afraid we’re at the mercies of those who only wish to help us, by separating us.” He glanced up at the surrounding buildings that overlooked the chilling acreage. “Better be on our way.”

Liesl watched as Cade followed Max’s line of sight to all the windows overlooking their little party. “It’s okay,” Liesl told him, slipping her arm around him and resting her head against his shoulder. The feel of him, the scent of him remained intoxicating to her. She wondered if she’d ever loved this much before.

Cade looked down at her upturned face. “But let’s take no chances.” He glanced around them and urged her along. The four entered the memorial and soon found themselves at odds with the intersecting paths that offered no direction, only choices. During the Holocaust, choices led to survival or death. Flee at the first sign of Nazi domination or remain with hope that the plague would soon pass.

From a shop across the street from the memorial, Felix Shevcik delighted at the sight of Liesl Bower, but not at her entourage. He recalled all the times he’d found her alone in Charleston.
Ivan was a fool to wait.
Felix wouldn’t wait for the concert if he could get a bead on her earlier.

He watched the foursome turn into the labyrinth of concrete slabs, groaning over the unpredictable turns his prey would now take. He must be patient. And vigilante. His was the luxury of anonymity, unlike the man just now appearing in Felix’s sights.

Is that who I think it is?
Felix almost pressed his square face to the glass of the storefront for a clearer look.
It is. What good fortune. Liesl Bower and Evgeny Kozlov in the same afternoon!

Felix watched the defrocked and fugitive Russian agent trail cautiously behind Liesl. Did she know he was there? Did her bodyguards not see him? Would they know him if they did? It was doubtful. But Felix had once trained under the legendary KGB agent who would most certainly recognize his former student. Felix had changed little since those years, his powerful bulk showing no flab along his low-to-the-ground frame. He was a solid cube.

As tantalizing as a double tap was, though, Kozlov’s presence complicated things for Felix. He would have to be careful. To just keep watch for now.

After a meandering hike through the memorial, during which few words were spoken, Max suggested they proceed underground to the information center. A long staircase dropped them into a catacomb museum where those who’d died came vividly to life again.

Liesl and Cade scanned long walls of photographs, home movies, handwritten letters, family documents, biographies, and other texts tracking the methodical extermination of a people. Max and Erica headed in a different direction, but after a while, they came alongside again. “Follow me,” Max urged, and led them all into a display room Liesl and Cade hadn’t yet seen.

The hallway was darkened down the middle with only spots of light trained on small video screens set into the walls here and there. “This way,” Max said.

Near the end of the hallway, he stopped and the three of them gathered around him, their guards close by.

Max pressed a button on the wall and activated a particular video. In seconds, a grainy film began to run. Children squealed loudly as a young woman bearing a large white cake with flaming candles on top entered the room. She set the cake on a low table in the midst of the children and hugged one little girl warmly, saying something to her in a language Liesl recognized as Polish. The whole room full of people burst into song. Some hugged, some danced. Then the video ended.

“The woman with the cake was my great-aunt Bethel,” Max said dryly, his eyes fixed on the screen. “She was my mother’s aunt who lived in Warsaw, who didn’t follow the rest of the family to Russia. Her little girl was six that day.” He pointed to the screen. “Aunt Bethel, her husband, and two children died a year later at Auschwitz.”

An audible gasp rose from Erica, but she spoke no words. Liesl, too, was taken by surprise, but somehow, the truth of what Max had just told them unfolded naturally in a place of horrors such as this. As Max turned back to the video and ran it once again, Liesl saw that Cade’s attention didn’t return to the screen, but remained on Max. When the video ended the second time, Cade laid a hand on Max’s back and quietly ushered him away.

As they walked from the hall, Max gathered himself together again and offered, “There’s controversy among the Germans about this place being here. Many would rather forget what their ancestors did.” He smirked. “But wouldn’t we all like to forget the sins of our fathers?”

“Every day, Max, Berliners walk through the grounds above us,” Cade observed. “For some, it’s probably just a shortcut through town. But it’s still a reminder of what people, of any nationality, are capable of doing to each other. And could do again.”

Abruptly, Erica turned and walked away. Max excused himself and followed her. Liesl saw one of the guards shadow the two of them.

Felix watched Evgeny Kozlov hover about the entrance to the underground museum, blocking access to the target. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The guards wouldn’t have recognized Felix, allowing him to draw close to Liesl without suspicion. But Kozlov posed a real barrier. He’d know Felix in a second.

What’s this?
Felix squinted to focus more clearly at the young woman just emerging from the stairway at the entrance. It was young Max’s girlfriend, and he was in hot pursuit. Until …

What was that? A signal between the two? It couldn’t be. Max and Kozlov? What’s going on here?

“Erica, wait!” Max called as he caught up with her at the base of the steps. “What’s the matter?”

She paused and stepped aside for those coming down the steps, then turned to confront Max. “I don’t feel well. It’s only a headache. I’d rather go back to the apartment, alone. No guards, if you don’t mind.” Her voice was firm, almost demanding.

Max was startled. “Are you upset by what I just showed you?”

She hesitated. “A little, but I’m mostly just sick. I’ll be fine, though. Go back with the others. Please.”

Max looked around. “But it’s not safe for you to be out here alone.”

“No, it’s you and Liesl who need protection, not me. So please don’t send anyone after me.” She turned and ran up the stairs. Puzzled by what seemed bitter words, Max pursued her.

They had just surfaced to ground level when she turned toward him again. “Please, Max!” The voice was angry now. “Just let me go back. I’ll be okay. The guards know who I am. They’ll let me in the apartment.” She managed an apologetic smile and hurried away. It was then Max spotted Evgeny Kozlov nearby, signaling his intention to follow her. Sending Evgeny after an already distraught young woman was the last thing Max wanted. He met the Russian’s questioning eye and held up one hand in a stand-down gesture. Max was fairly surprised to see Evgeny nod and retreat slowly into the shadows again. But then, it wasn’t Erica he’d come to protect.

Max, too, retreated, letting her go and hoping she remembered the way back, certain she’d call if she didn’t. He blamed himself. He hadn’t realized the depth of her sensitivities to his kind of world.

Pure instinct hurled Felix headlong into rush-hour pedestrian traffic along the sidewalk, heading east after the girl. It was the same instinct he’d relied on for too many years to question it now. No, she wasn’t the target, but he’d find Liesl Bower again soon. The itinerary of a celebrity wasn’t hard to follow. He found himself struggling, though, to catch up with the girl who’d just shifted into turbo walk, head down, sure of where she was going and wasting not a moment getting there.