Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

Stern spotted the fast-approaching headlights, now jinking wildly up and

down as if manipulated by some mad puppeteer. The African raised his

face to the dark clouds as if beseeching some native god to lift him up

and away from his pursuer. While Stern stared through the rain,

hypnotized by the dancing headlights, a new sound rumbled into his,

ears. At first he thought it was rolling thunder.

Then the engine of the pursuing car. But the sound grew nearer much

faster than the headlights. Soon it was a buffeting roar' terrifying in

intensity. When Stern finally looked up, he saw that the roar had

blotted out the sky. He crouched beneath the blast of the rotors and

shielded his eyes against the whipping rain, but the Zulu jerked him up

and into the gaping maw of the helicopter as it hovered briefly-near the

earth.

As they lifted away from the hurricane below, Stern heard another sound

cutting through the din of the rotors-a higher sound, like the rim of a

crystal goblet singing. Then it came to him-the brief whine punctuated

by the dull thwackbullets! Two more slugs punctured the thin aluminum

skin of the chopper but miraculously missed the vitals of the

machine-the cabling, hydraulics, and precious rotors.

The helicopter yawed at a sickening angle as it climbed, but the Zulu

held Stern fast. Far below, Stern saw the pursuer's headlights,

spinning and shrinking to unreality. The chase car had stopped now.

It merged with the Rover, a tiny bright speck against the rain-swept

veld. Stern thought of Hauer, of how angry he must be at this

unexpected tactic. He pictured the furious German kicking the Rover or

even firing a few slugs into it for good measure. He couldn't help but

smile.

But the man below was not kicking the Range Rover, of stupidly firing

his pistol into the lifeless steel hulk. For the man below was not a

man at all, but a woman. An Englishwoman smelling of powder and

expensive perfume. Cia-re de Lune. And if Jonas Stern had known that,

he would not have been smiling.

4:10 Pm. Room 604 The Protea Hof Hotel, Pretoria

Hauer and Schneider sat facing each other across the narrow space

between the two double beds. Hauer held his Walther loosely in his

hand; Schneider's hands were empty. Gadi sat by the window, hands

clenched around his Uzi. After piling the dead Russians in the

bathroom, he had gone over to the Stanley House to try to capture

Borodin's sniper, but the sniper had disappeared. Professor Natterman

lay asleep on the bed, his thigh and his side wrapped in gauze. Aaron

Haber guarded the door. There would be no more surprise entries.

"Do you believe me now?" Schneider asked.

Hauer had spent five minutes on the phone with Colonel Rose. "I believe

you," he said. "But not because of what the American said."

"Why, then?"

"Your father. He was an investigator during the student riots in the

sixties. Back then a lot of police officers would just as soon have

shot a student as talked to one. Your father was different."

Schneider nodded.

"Unless the acorn fell a long way from the tree, you're not part of

Phoenix. Besides, why would Funk need to send you? Phoenix must have

an army here in South Africa."

"Will you come back to Berlin with me?"

Hauer shook his head. "Right now I care about only one thing-saving my

son's life. After that's done, I'll remember that I need to care about

cleaning Funk and his stortntroopers out of Berlin.

But by then it may be too late."

Hauer stood. "I've got a feeling I may not be coming back from this

trip, Detective. So I'm going to trust you to handle, Berlin. I have

to trust you."

Hauer felt every eye in the room upon him.

"Here is the situation as I see it: The British want to suppress the

Spandau diary, and the Hess story with it. The Americans-at least in

the past-have been willing to go ;along with the British. The Russians

want to expose the papers and force the British to accept partial blame

for what the Nazis did in the war. It's political one-upmanship."

Hauer turned his head. "Have I got that right, Professor?"

"Succinctly put, Captain."

"From the Russian point of view, one would think the Spandau papers are

a minor consideration compared to the very real danger of Phoenix. If

the Russians learn that a secret, extremely nationalistic group exists

within the police and political hierarchies in both East and West

Germany, a group bent on breaking the DDR away from Russia and uniting

with West Germany, a group that has infiltrated the Stasi, there'is

really no telling what they might do."

"What are you saying, Captain?"

"I'm saying that the Russians need to learn about Phoenix. In the right

way, of course. I didn't tell Colonel Rose any of this, so it will all

be up to you. You heard Professor Natterman. In Berlin there is a

photocopy of the Spandau papers. Also in Berlin-in the house of a dead

policeman named Josef Steuben-there is a fireproof safe. In that safe

is a year's accumulation of evidence of drug crimes against Funk and his

men. But more importantly"-Hauer paused, reluctant to reveal something

that a friend had died to protect-"there is a list of every member of

Bruderschaft der Phoenix whose name I could learn. The list names

members on both sides of the Wall. Once the Russians know what Phoenix

is, Schneider, they will give anything for that list."

The light of admiration dawned in Schneider's eyes.

"We want Phoenix crushed, yet we can't trust our own countrymen to do

the job. So, as painful as it may be, we must turn to the Allies.

That means the Americans. When YOU get to Berlin, retrieve the

photocopy and the list, then bide them. Then tell Colonel Rose what you

have, and what YOU want. at y want is c an American supervision of a

German urge of Phoenix. When the Americans agree to that, let them

present the Russians with their ..own offer. I suspect it will run

something like this: In exchange for continued silence about the Hess

@r-which is what the British and Americans want-the Russians will be

given the names of Phoenix members in the East. They can purge the

Stasi at their leisure, and get the higher-ups by interrogating the

Stasi members." Hauer cracked his knuckles.

"As far as I can see, everybody should be happy with that arrangement."

A strange smile flickered across Schneider's face. "I think you're in

the wrong line of work, Captain. You should have been a negotiator."

"I am," Hauer told him. "A hostage negotiator."

"I thought you were a sharpshooter."

Hauer sighed. "Sometimes negotiations fail."

Schneider stood. "I'd better go. Colonel Rose said there's a plane

leaving for Cairo in forty minutes, and there'll be an Army jet waiting

for me there."

Hauer offered his hand. "Good luck, Detective."

Schneider's grip was like a bear's. "You come back to Berlin, Captain.

And bring your son. We need more men like YOU."

At the door Hauer spoke softly. "It's funny, Schneider. I want the

same thing Phoenix wants, a united Germany, but-"

"We all want that," Schneider cut in. "But we don't want men like Funk

running it.

There is a better Germany than that."

Hauer met Schneider's eyes. "We'll never get them all, you know.

Not the ones at the top. Those bastards never pay-" Schneider laid a

hand on the Walther in his belt. "If the courts don't get them,

Captain, there are other ways. And don't take too long here. The local