Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

it." Stern raised his hand and plucked an imaginary mote from the air.

"Every time you take a step toward her, Captain, the entire web shakes.

The spider knows where you are at every moment, and when you finally

make your move, you will find that it is you who are trapped."

"Interesting metaphor," said Hauer. "What lesson should I draw from

it?"

Stern smiled patiently. "Your attention should be fixed upon the spider

from the start, not the speck of dust. Eliminate the spider, you can

plunder the web at your leisure."

Hauer said nothing for a while. "I'll take my chances alone," he

answered finally. "I've handled a few spiders in my time."

Stern's jaw muscles tightened. "You'd stand a much better chance with

my help."

Hauer raised his Walther. "If information is all you have, Stern, you

can give that to me right now."

In the instant Hauer's finger hesitated on the trigger, Stern slipped

out of the door. He reappeared moments later. Behind him stood three

very fit young men. Their hard faces and burning eyes told Hauer

everything he needed to know about their probable areas of expertise.

"These are my other assets, Captain," Stern said. "Sayaret

matkal-Israeli commandos. You may have heard of them.

If you're any judge of men, you will recognize their value vis-A-vis our

particular situation."

Hauer instantly revised his estimate of Stern's possible contribution.

Even the elite officers of Germany's GSG-9

spoke of the sayaret matkal with respect.

"You!" he cried suddenly, recognizing the bandaged Yose Shamir from the

stairwell of the Burgerspark Hotel. "You were following me last night!"

Stern quickly interposed himself between Hauer and the young Israeli.

"Yosef was there-at my request," he explained. "I had hoped to meet you

at the Burgerspark myself, Captain, but unexpected trouble prevented me.

I'm only thankful you decided to return here this evening. I assume you

found another hotel last night after your brush with Yosef?"

Hauer nodded reluctantly.

"And you returned here because ...

"Because our distraught young husband decided to lie to me. He made

contact with the kidnappers on his own."

Stern closed his eyes.

"Oh,'no," Natten-nan groaned. "Why?"

"Because he realized that any attempt to free Ilse by force might well

bring about her death. I believe that was the same position you took

back in Germany, wasn't it, Professor? Also because Ilse is regnant."

Natterman's eyes widened.

"Is the boy mad?" Stern asked. "Doesn't he know the kidnappers will

kill both him and his wife no matter what he does?"

"No. I don't believe he does. He thinks with his heart, not his head."

"An often fatal mistake," Stern said dryly.

"Ilse is pregnant?" Natterman murmured.

Hauer walked to the window and opened the drapes. Van Der Walt Street

looked as calm as the Kurfijrstendamm on an early Sunday morning.

In the corner of the room, Aaron Haber picked up Hans's loaded crossbow

and showed it to his fellow commandos, an amused smile on his face.

Stern motioned for him to put it down.

"What had you planned to do before we arrived, Captain?" Stern asked.

"Play bait? Tell the kidnappers you had the missing pages of the

Spandau diary and try to turn their trap inside out?"

Hauer grunted. "That's about it."

"A dangerous game."

"The only one left."

"Not quite," said Stern. "You're forgetting something."

am?"

"I really have the missing pages. I would think they rate -us an

invitation to the Kidnapper's Ball, wouldn't you?"

Hauer's lips slowly spread into a smile.

Everyone froze as the telephone rang, faded.

"You answer it," Stern advised.

Hauer darted between the beds and picked up the receiver.

Yes?"

"Captain!"

Hauer kept his eyes on Stern. "Where are you?" he asked through

gritted teeth.

"I can't say," Hans replied. "I'm not sure, anyway. Captain, I've got

to have those missing diary pages. I made a mistake in leaving you, I'm

sorry. But these men really will kill Ilse unless they get all the

pages. They're insane!"

Hauer thought silently. "But I don't have the pages," he said at

length, still watching Stern.

"I know," Hans said quickly. "But you can find them.

You've got to! Go back to Germany! To the cabin! You can find them,

Captain, you must. It's simple police work!"

"Not so simple," Hauer stalled. "Not when I'm wanted for murder in

Germany."

"They can fix that!"

Hauer sealed the mouthpiece with his palm and whispered to Stern.

"Phoenix wants the rest of the diary. Do I tell them I have it?"

Stern shook his head vehemently. "They won't believe that. If you'd

really had the other pages, Hans would have found a way to steal them

before he went to the rendezvous."

"Hurry!" said Hauer, wondering why he was asking this strange old

Israeli for answers anyway.

Stern jabbed his finger at Professor Natterman. "He's got them.

Tell them the professor followed you and Hans to' South Africa, and that

he brought the missing pages with him."

Hauer shook his head angrily, but he could think of nothing else to say.

"Hans?"

"I'm here!"

"Can the kidnappers hear me?"

"Yes!"

"Don't hurt the girl," Hauer said slowly. "Do you hear me? Do not hurt

the girl. Her grandfather is here with me, and he has what you want."

AL@'

Hans gasped..

A new voice came on the line. "Listen well, Captain Hauer," said Smuts.

"You will send the old man to the same place as before, the Voortrekker

Monument. He must be there thirty minutes from now, alone, with the

missing pages. After we are satisfied that no copies exist, we will

release our prisoners. If you attempt to follow the vehicle that picks

up the professor, the driver will shoot him on the spot."

Smuts's voice went cold. "And you will never leave this country alive.

Do you understand?"

"Ja, " Hauer growled.

The phone went dead.

Hauer whirled on Stern. "Well, Herr Master-Spy, you've painted us into

some damned corner. They want the professor to deliver our last

bargaining chip to them, and'if we try to follow, they'll kill him.

Now three hostages will die instead of two."

Stern smiled enigmatically. "Captain, where is your imagination?"

Hauer flushed with anger. "I try to be practical when lives are at

stake."

"As do I," Stern said calmly. "But pragmatism alone is never enough.

You should know that, Captain. It is imagination that wins the day."

"And what miracle does your imagination suggest for this problem?"

"A simple one." Stern's eyes had settled on a bedfuddled Professor

Natterman. "Does your granddaughter carry any pictures of you in her

handbag, Professor?"

Natterman looked mystified. "I ... I don't believe so."

"Well," Stern said brightly, "there it is."

Hauer's eyes widened in comprehension.

Stern smiled. "It's the perfect solution, Captain. I become the

professor."

Hauer was shaking his head, but he knew that he had been trapped by a

master. Stern was already disrobing. "It's too risky," he objected.

"Let's have that jacket, Professor," said Stern. "I must wear something

Ilse can recognize immediately."

Hauer wanted to argue, but he could think of no better plan. He watched

enviously as the Israeli prepared to slip into the very center of his

metaphorical spider's web.

As Stern stripped, Professor Natterman leaned over and whispered in his