Leaving Berlin (41 page)

“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 traitor.”

“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.”

“Ah.”

“He died for the Agency. Who’s to say otherwise? The Russians? They get quiet, times like this.”

Dieter looked at him, a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Amateur,” he said. “It’s lucky I was there. So you have a witness.”

Alex looked at him, a conversation in a glance. “Yes, lucky.”

“And did you find out? Whether he told them about me?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Well, but the odds are yes. And who risks his life for odds. You’re going out to Dahlem?”

“You want a lift? Markus may be arriving later.”

Dieter raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll tell you in the car. But I have one more thing,” he said, glancing toward the hospital. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait for you on the other side. By the Gate. You don’t want to risk a border check with a body in the trunk.”

“But you risk it.”

Dieter shrugged. “And what do you want to do about Markovsky?”

“Can you get Gunther to bury him as Max Mustermann? The Russians love a mystery. Let’s give them one.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Nobody will ever know. Except you and me.”

Dieter looked at him. “And whoever killed him.”

“That’s right. And whoever killed him.”

“Another mystery,” Dieter said. “You ought to stay in this work. You have the nerves for it.”

“What, and work with you?”

“They’re all amateurs out in Dahlem. New to it. The Russians aren’t amateurs. For this one thing, they have a genius.” He paused. “You could be useful. I’d help you. You’re in this now.”

“I’m not in anything.”

“No?” Dieter said, glancing at the trunk. “Once you start, you know, it’s hard to turn your back. No one else understands how it is, what we have to do, unless they’re part of it too. It’s important work. You could be valuable.”

“Is this what BOB said to you?”

Dieter smiled. “No, I was easier. They got me for a letter. To wash my sins away. ‘A Nazi of convenience,’ that’s the phrase they used.”

“Were you?”

Dieter shrugged. “Everyone on the force. Now an Ami of convenience. You do what you have to do. Terrible things sometimes,” he said, looking toward the trunk again, then back at Alex. “You try to keep a piece of yourself. Something they can’t get. And then it’s over and you think, my God, I did that. I was part of it. So in the end what did you keep? And now,” he said, extending his hand to take in the car, the city beyond. “A new side. More things we don’t talk about. You think you don’t pay, but—you carry it with you.” He looked over. “If you go on with this work, keep something for yourself. Not just a piece. Otherwise they’ll take it all. And then you’re not good for anything else.”

Alex felt cold on the back of his neck.

“Well, my friend, better hurry,” Dieter said. “You still have a body to explain.”

Irene was sitting up, wearing a pink bed jacket, frilly, with girlish silk ribbons. She giggled at his expression.

“Elsbeth’s,” she said. “She dresses like a doll. So, finally. That strange man before. ‘Don’t leave the hospital.’ Why? ‘Wait for Alex.’ So now we can go?”

“Are you all right?”

“This?” she said, touching a white head bandage. “It’s better, I think. Gustav says I should rest a few days, but I could do that in Marienstrasse, no?”

“You could also go to Elsbeth. Then Erich. I can still get you a plane out.”

“Oh, again with that.”

“It would be better for you.”

“What’s wrong? Your face. They found him, Sasha?”

“No. They’re not going to. I’m taking care of it. You’ll never have to worry about that. It’s safe. It would just be better in the West, that’s all. Easier.”

“What do you mean, you’re taking care of it?”

“I don’t have time to explain. It never happened. You don’t know anything. You never did. Okay?”

“And Elsbeth’s name?”

“Just a precaution. If they checked the hospitals. After the accident. And your name popped up—”

“The accident.”

“That’s what they’re calling it. You don’t know anything about that either.”

He waited for a moment.

“I’m going to be on the radio tomorrow.”

“Like Erich?”

“Yes. Just like Erich. So I have to leave. I’ve come to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?” she said faintly, almost dazed. “You’re leaving? Where? Frankfurt?”

“No, I’m going back.”

“Back where? You can’t go back.”

“I can now. I made an arrangement.”

“Clever Alex,” she said. “Always—” She looked up. “You mean you’re leaving me.”

“I have a child. I don’t want him to grow up without me. That’s all that matters now.”

“That’s all? Not us?”

He sat on the bed, putting a hand up to her face. “Us. There is no
us.
It was just an idea you had.”

“I don’t believe you. It’s not the child. It’s something else.”

“No, it’s him. It’s what I came to Berlin for—to go back.”

“What does that mean? You’re not making sense.”

“I know. Never mind. I have to go. I can’t stay in Berlin.”

“But why?” she said, her voice rising, a kind of wail. “You never said—”

“The people who were following us last night were following me. Not you. You’re safe, but I’m not. I have to go.”

“But what about me? What will I do?”

“Go to Elsbeth.”

“Oh, Elsbeth. This stupid jacket,” she said, taking it off. “You’re leaving me and I’m in this ridiculous jacket. In bed. No,” she said, getting out. “I can stand. Tell me standing up. This is what you came to say? You’re leaving me? I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said softly. “But I can see you better now. All of you. Erich. Elsbeth. You. Before I just saw what I wanted to see.”

“Oh,” she said, flailing, clutching the bed jacket. “See me better. What does Erich have to do with anything? Elsbeth. I don’t understand—”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What question?” she said, distracted, a kind of pout.