Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

As soon as the cage sank below the line of the floor, Eva cut her voice

to a whisper. "Here comes the hard part. We were lucky that time. The

odds just went-'down."

Ilse clutched her friend's arm. "You shouldn't have come with me!"

"You'd never have made it by yourself, darling.' "But you're in danger

too!"

Eva plucked a gob of mascara out of her eye. "I'm glad to do it.

If I hadn't had you to talk to for the last three years, I'd have gone

mad in that tiny apartment."

"But all your men friends-" 146 n le in isgust. "Don't even mention

those bums. Don't act like you don't know what I do.

You and Hans have always known, and you've never treated me any

different than family. So shut up and take some help. We're not out of

this yet."

The elevator screeched to an uncertain stop. Eva yanked open the screen

and stormed through the lobby, cursing the elevator and every other

mechanical device ever invented.

With Ilse struggling along behind on a pair of Eva's four-inch heels, the

old barmaid clacked past the two Russians at the building's entrance as

if they did not exist.

"Halt!" yelled one of Kosov's men as Ilse hurried past.

Ilse's heart thudded in her chest.

The Russian caught hold of her elbow. "Hey, Frdulein," he said, leaning

close to her. "Why the hurry?"

Eva paused impatiently at the curb. She looked up and down the street,

then walked back to the door. "Next time, sweetie," she snapped,

stepping protectively in front of Ilse.

"We've got a party to go to."

"It can wait," said the young man, leering at his companion.

"Stay here and keep us warm for a while. It's cold out."

"Colder by the minute, Arschloch," Eva spat. "If we don't get out of

this wind in thirty seconds our tits will snap off."

The Russian shed his smile like a snakeskin. His eyes glazed with a

reptilian sheen. He took a step toward Eva.

"Forget it, Misha," urged his companion. "They're just whores."

"Fucking filth," the Russian muttered.

"Misha, " said his partner anxiously. "Remember Colonel Kosov."

Misha took a long look at Eva as if to mark her for future

retribution, then snorted and walked into the lobby. When he next

looked outside, the two women were already across the street and halfway

down the block, moving toward Colonel Kosov's BMW.

Kosov had just lifted the microphone from the dash when he spied two

prostitutes walking quickly up the Liitzenstrasse.

"Report, One," he said, half-watching them.

"Lobby still clear."

"Two?"

"No movement inside the apartment."

"Damn. Three and Four?"

r

"All clear here. No sign of him."

The prostitutes reached the hood of the BMW, passed it.

"All positions," said Kosov, "I have two women passing me from your

direction. Anyone see where they entered the street?"

The radio squawked as three signals competed for reproduction.

"Four here, sir. They came from the apartment building. Looked like

two whores to us."

Kosov felt a tic in his cheek. He turned away as the headlights of a

passing car shone through the BMW. When he looked again he saw one of

the women raise an arm and flag the car to a stop. That's odd, he

thought, a taxi here at this hour And picking up a couple of

streetwalkers ...

"Two here," crackled the radio. "Those prostitutes came from number

forty-three, this floor. Opposite my position.

One of them even propositioned me."

Kosov struck the dash with his fist. "One of them is the wife!

Misha, to the car! Two, enter number forty and proceed!" Kosov looked

frantically for an alley in which to turn the BMW around. With cars

parked both sides of the street he had no room to make a U.

Inside the taxi, Eva spoke rapidly. "Perfect timing, Ernst darling. Now

zoom around the corner and stop as fast as you can." She looked back

over her shoulder. "Ilse, when he stops, you jump right out and get

into the alley there. If they keep after me, you've made it. If they

don't@' "Who were those men, Eva? Police?"

"Stinking Russians, sweetie. Didn't you catch the name Misha?"

The taxi jounced onto the curb. "Eva, how can I thank@' "Go!"

Eva cried, squeezing Ilse's hand. "Jump! Go!"

The screech of tires drowned Ilse's reply as the taxi sped down the

Gervinusstrasse. Ilse ducked into the alley just as Kosov's BMW

careened around the corner and surged after Eva and her cabbie friend.

She collapsed,against the cold concrete wall of an office building, her

heart beating wildly.

Ten seconds later a second BMW raced after the first.

Turning her back to the icy wind, Ilse doffed the sluttish clothes Eva

had given her and tossed the wig into an overflowing garbage bin.

Now she wore the conservative casuals she'd had on when she first

spotted the BMW. Habit made her hang on to one costume accessory Eva

had thrust into her hand-a large plastic purse. As she debated whether

to keep Eva's flashy coat, Ilse heard the rumble of a heavy automobile

engine. Seconds later a pair of headlights nosed into the far end of

the alley.

Ilse snatched up the discarded clothes and climbed into the only hiding

place she could see-the garbage bin. The smell was terrible, cloyingly

sweet. She held her nose with one hand and covered her eyes with the

other. The powerful purr of the BMW edged closer, a tiger trying to

spook its prey. Ilse knotted herself into a tight ball and prayed. It

took little imagination to guess how @thless the men in the black autos

must be. The young man who had propositioned her at the front door-the

one called Misha-his eyes had glazed almost to sightlessness when Eva

insulted him. Like fish eyes, Ilse thought.

She shuddered.

The BMW picked up speed as it approached the garbage bin, weaving

occasionally to probe every inch of the alley with its halogen eyes.

The walls of the trash bin vibrated from the noise. Ilse shivered from

terror and bitter cold. She h.ad no doubt that if the car engine were

shut off, the Russians would find her by the chattering of her teeth.

Suddenly, with a scream of protesting rubber, the big black sedan roared

out of the alley. Ilse scrambled up out of the garbage and dug into

Eva's purse for her shoes. Her hand closed over something soft and

familiar. She peered into the bag. Folded into a thick wad at its

bottom were three hundred Deutschemarks in small bills. Scrawled across

the top banknote in red lipstick were the words: ILSE, USE rr!

Stuffing the bills back into the purse, Ilse climbed out of the bin and

edged a little way down the alley. Damn all of this, she thought

angrily. If Eva can get me this far, I can do the rest. In less than

fifteen seconds she had analyzed her options and made a decision. She

kicked off the stiletto heels Eva had loaned her, pulled on her own

flats, and started running toward the hazy glow at the opposite end of

the alley.

1030 Pm. Tiorgartan District.- West Berlin

The moment Harry Richardson raised his hand to knock on Klaus Seeckt's

door, the door jerked open to the length of the chain latch.

"Go away, Major!" said a voice from the dark crack.

The door slammed shut. Harry moved to the side of the door, out of the

light. "Open the door, Klaus."

"Please go away, Harry!"

More puzzled than angry, Harry flattened himself against the wall.

Normally he telephoned Klaus before coming over, but tonight he hadn't

wanted to give the East German a chance to postpone the meeting.