Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

Rolf again, Hans thought. The profanity was a dead giveaway. The same

bearded man trailed behind him, but this time the pair stayed well back

from the cell and aimed the flashlight in.

"Well?" said Rolf from behind the glare. "What the hell do you want?

The facilities not up to your high standards?'@ Hans flexed his fists in

rage. If he could only lure one of them into the cell . . .

"This man's dead," he said, pointing to the gurney.

Neither guard responded.

"Come in here and check his pulse, if you don't believe me.

"If he's dead, what can we do?" said Rolf, chuckling his logic.

"Get him out of here!" Hans cried.

"Sorry," said the other guard, with a trace of sympathy.

"We can't come in. Orders."

In desperation Hans shoved the gurney to the front of the cell and

thrust his friend's lifeless arm through the bars.

"Feel it, damn you!"

"Take it easy," said the second man. "I'll do it." He pinched Weiss's

wrist expertly between his thumb and middle finger and counted to

thirty. "The man's dead, all right."

Rolf checked Weiss's pulse himself. "So he is. Well, you just stay

right here with him, Sergeant. We'll send somebody down for him.

Eventually."

Hans turned to the wall in despair. Obviously these two thugs weren't

going to be lured into the cell. When he finally turned back around,

they had gone. He picked his way to the rear of the cell and sat down

on a box of files. I can wait, he told himself. Someone's got to come

in here eventually, and when they do ...

Fifteen minutes later the basement door crashed open again. This time

Hans heard no cursing <)r stumbling from the stairs. The tread of boots

was loud and regular. Whoever was coming knew his way around down here.

"This way, idiot," muttered a disembodied voice.

Nothing could have prepared Hans for the next few seconds. When the

boots stopped in front of his cell, the flashlight beam arced in and

blinded him completely. He squinted in pain. Then, out of the

blackness behind the dazzling light came a voice that froze his heart.

"Hans? Are you okay.

Oh God ... Slowly his contracting pupils filtered out the glare.

He saw the hand gripping the flashlight through the bars. Then, just

above it, Captain Dieter Hauer's mustached face coalesced in the

darkness. The leering grin of Rolf floated above and behind him.

Hans felt a caustic wave of bile rising into his throat.

Whatever was going on, Hauer was part of it! His mind reeled, fighting

the realization that his own father had helped murder his friend. He

felt a knifelike pain in his chest, as if his very heart had cracked.

Come in here, you bastard! he thought savagely Just come right in ...

Apparently, Hauer intended to do just that. He turned to Rolf.

"Give me the key," he said.

"But we're not supposed to go in," Rolf objected. "Lieutenant Luhr

said-" Hauer snatched the key from Rolf's hand and opened the cell door.

"Hans, listen," he said softly, "I need to ask-"

"Aaaaaarrgh!"

With every ounce of strength in his body, Hans drove himself off the

back wall and into Hauer's midsection. The flying tackle crushed Hauer

against the steel bars, driving the breath from his lungs. He collapsed

in a heap on the floor, sucking for air. Hans grabbed his neck and

began throttling him in blind hatred. Here was the man to pay for

Weiss's life, and so much more ...

It was a simple matter for Rolf to pick up the lead pipe and knock Hans

unconscious. Having done so, he viciously kicked the limp body off of

Hauer and revived the captain by taking hold of his belt and lifting him

repeatedly off the floor. Slowly Hauer sat up and looked at Hans lying

motionless on the cell floor.

"'Thanks," he coughed.

"You owe me for that@" said Rolf. "That prick meant to kill you!"

"I don't blame him," Hauer muttered.

"What?" Rolf's eyes narrowed. "What were you trying to say to him,

anyway?"

Hans moaned and rolled over. His head banged against the bars.

"Shit," Rolf grumbled, "why don't we just kill this Klugscheisser?"

"We need him. Help me get him up on one of these boxes."

Focusing his eyes slowly, Hans sat up. He'd vomited a little on his

shirt front. "Fa he moaned. "Father? You can't be part of this-"

"What did he say?" Rolf asked.

"He's delirious."

"Weiss is dead!" Hans screamed suddenly.

"So are you," Rolf spat. "You pathetic fuck."

The next four seconds were a blur of motion. Hauer's lips flattened to

a thin line. Quicker than thought he whirled on Rolf and shattered his

jaw with a killing blow from his right fist. Almost simultaneously he

snatched the pipe away with his left hand and brought it down on Rolf's

skull, fracturing his cranium with a sickening crunch. Rolf died before

he hit the floor.

Hans had been stunned by the blow to his head, but even more by this

sudden reversal. But there was no time to think. Hauer knelt over him.

"Don't ask me anything!" he snarled. "Don't say anything!

I don't know how you got involved in this, but you're in way over your

empty head. I don't know if Weiss was in it, but he paid the price

tonight.

You're hiding something-I saw that at Funk's little hearing, and so did

anyone else who was paying attention. You can't lie for shit, Hans,

you're too honest for it."

"Wait-I don't understand," Hans stammered. "Why?"

"Quiet! We're about to take the most dangerous walk of our lives.

If someone finds this shitbag before we get out of the station, we're

dead. Can you move?"

Hans tried to rise, but his legs buckled.

"Get up!"

"I can't. It's my head ... my balance."

"Christ!" With a sudden violence Hauer shoved Weiss's corpse off the

gurney and onto the floor.

"Captain!"

Listen, Hans, he's gone! We're alive, You just be ready when I get

back."

with startling speed Hauer battled the gurney through the dark basement,

then collapsed its legs and dragged it up the stairs. In two minutes he

was back in the cell, leaning over Hans.

"i'm going to carry you up to that gurney and wheel you out the back

door. Can you hang on?"

Hans nodded dully.

"I want you to see something before we go."

Hauer picked up the flashlight and held it to the right side of Rolf's

smashed skull. He dug in the blond hair until he found what he wanted,

then lifted the head slightly and leaned back to make room for Hans.

"First this," he said.

"Look."

Hans looked. At first he saw nothing. Only the bloody roots of Rolf's

flaxen hair. Then Hauer's thick fingers scratched against the dead

man's scalp, scraping some of the blood away. Hans saw it now, behind

the right ear. It was a tattoo. Bloodred ink had @en injected into

Rolf's scalp by a very talented needle. The design itself was less than

two centimeters long, but very detailed. It was an eye. A single,

gracefully curved red eye. With a lid but no lashes. Hans felt his

stomach turn a slow somersault. The eye was identical to the one

sketched on the opening page of the Spandau papers!

You mustfollow the Eye ... The Eye is the key to it all!

"See it?" Hauer grunted.

Hans nodded dumbly.

Rolf's head thudded against the cement floor. Hauer stepped across the

cell and dragged Weiss's corpse over to where Hans sat against the wall.

"You won't forget this for a while," he said. He put his hands into

Weiss'shirt and ripped it open down the front.

Then he pulled up the undershirt.