Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

who won't answer a call to help a Turkish woman who's being beaten in

the street. Most weren't even born until fifteen or twenty years after

the war." Hauer shook his head in disgust. "'They get drunk, argue,

make speeches about throwing the traitors out of Bonn and making Berlin

the capital again. Then they sing Deutschland fiber Alles. If they're

really tanked they sing the Horst Wessel. At first the whole thing

seemed comical.

But after a while I realized something. These clowns were bringing in

millions of marks through their drug operations, yet they didn't seem to

be keeping any of it. No Ferrans, no new houses. Where was all the

money going? I traced the command chain all the way up to Prefect Funk,

but after six months of investigation I hit a dead end."

Hauer's eyes flickered. "Then I had my revelation. It had been right

in front of me all the time. Their money came from drugs, right?

Well, where do the drugs flow in from?"

"The East," Hans said softly.

"Right. So I asked myself, What if their organization extended

laterally, not vertically? You see? How were the drugs getting through

East Germany? Were the Vopos blind?

Hell no. They were allowing the drugs to get through. The East German

police have their own Bruderschaft members."

Hans blinked in astonishment. "The Volkspolizei?"

Hauer nodded. "And the Stasi."

Hans drew back at the mention of the hated East German secret police.

"But why would the Stasi smuggle drugs? For hard currency?"

Hauer shook his head. "Think about being a Stasi agent for a minute,

Hans. What it's really like."

"No thanks."

Hauer waved his cigar. "Sure, a lot of them are scum. But they're

German scum. You see? All day and night they have the Russians leaning

over their shoulders telling them what to do. They hate the Russians

more than we ever could.

They're communists, sure, but what choice do they have?

They've been,under the Russian boot since 1945. So, what do you think

they do? Lie down and take Moscow's crap?

Most of them do." Hauer's eyes gleamed. "But some of them don't.

The HVA-East German intelligence-sucks Moscow's shitpipe. They're like

a German arm of the KGB.

But the Stasi? Forget it. They go their'own way. They can beat the

KGB at their own game and the KGB knows it. If Moscow complains about

the Stasi, Honecker himself tells the Kremlin to mind its own business."

"You sound like you admire the bastards."

Hauer shook his head. "This isn't a case of absolutes, Hans. The point

is that some elements of the Stasi want reunification even more than we

in the West do, and they're willing to fight for it. They want their

slice of the European economic pie, and they know that so long as

they're separate from us, they'll never get it. And that brings us to

the drugs.

"How? Drugs are their slice of the pie?' "No. Drugs are part of the

strategy. I think their theory runs something like this: the more

rapidly the social situation in West Germany breaks down, the more

rapidly the right-wing and nationalist factions in the West consolidate

their power. Think about it. For twenty years the Stasi supplied the

Red Army Faction and other left-wing terrorists with guns and plastique.

Why? Just to create chaos? No. Because every time those misguided

hotheads blew up a bank or an airport lounge, the right wing in the West

hit back a little bit harder. The public reaction got a little stiffer.

I'm telling you, Hans, it's a sound strategy. Moscow has never been

more lenient than it is right now. The entire Eastern Bloc is restless.

Trouble and sedition are brewing everywhere. And East Germany is the

most independent satellite of all. The Stasi monitors everything there:

student unrest, political volatility, economic stress, plus they have

that rarest of all commodities, direct intelligence lines into Russia.

I think Der Bruderschaft-and whoever controls it-believes that a strong

enough chancellor in West Germany could seize the right opportunity and

wrench the two Germanys back together." Hauer was breathing hard.

"And by God, they may be right."

Hans stared, fascinated. "Is the Stasi really as powerful as people

say? I've heard they have hundreds of informers here and in Bonn."

Hauer chuckled. "Hundreds? Try thousands. If I had the files from

Stasi headquarters, I could break half the political careers in West

Germany and a good many in Moscow. I mean that. Some of our most

powerful senators are actually on the Stasi payroll. Funk is just small

beer."

Hans was shaking his head. "Do you really believe all this?"

Hauer shrugged. "I don't know. One minute I believe every word of it,

the next I wonder if schnapps has pickled my brain. When I stand in

those Bruderschaft meetings, I want to laugh. Funk and his rabble are

just grown-up children fantasizing about a Fourth Reich.

It's classic infantile bullshit. Germany will be united again, don't

doubt it. But not by drunk policemen or skinheads. It's the bankers

and board chairmen who'll bring it off. Men from the world your mother

worshipped. We're the richest country in Europe now, Hans, and anything

can be bought for a price. Even a united Germany."

Hauer tugged at his mustache. "The question is this: is there a

connection between Der Bruderschaft and those bankers and board

chairmen? And if so, what is it? How much power does Phoenix exert

over the institutions in Germany? The Stasis potential for blackmail is

formidable.

Funk's group may seem like clowns, but no matter how you look at it, the

Polizei are an arm of the state."

Hans look confused. "But how could all this tie in with the Spandau

papers? With Ilse?"

"Bruderschaft der Phoenix, remember? Phoenix was mentioned in the

Spandau papers, therefore it ties Funk and the Stasi to the papers.

Your hooker friend said Russians came looking for you and chased Ilse.

The Russians went on the rampage when you discovered the Spandau papers.

Do the Russians know about Phoenix? Maybe they've infiltrated Der

Bruderschaft through the Stasi. Maybe they suspect the Stasis role in a

grab for reunification. What the hell is Phoenix? A man? A group of

men? At one Bruderschaft meeting I heard Funk-who was drunk out of his

mind-babbling about how Phoenix was going to change the world, make

everything right again, clean out the Jews and the Turks once and for

all. But when I tried to pump him, Lieutenant Luhr shut him up."

Hauer shifted in the small chair. "Whatever Phoenix is, I'm almost

certain it's based outside Germany. About a month ago, Steuben started

noticing calls going out from Funk to different towns in South Africa. I

assumed it was more drug business, looking for new markets, et cetera.

But I don't think that anymore. Hans, I think you have dredged up

something so politically hot that we @an't even imagine it.

I hope Ilse managed to get those papers to Wolfsburg, but @hether she

did or not, we won't get out of Berlin by driving your VW through

Checkpoint Charlie. We've got to take precautions, make arrangements.

People owe me@' "Pardon me," said a soft voice from the shadows.

Hauer turned in his chair. Benjamin Ochs stood silhouetted against the

lighted hall door. "Forgive me," he said, "but the shouting alarmed my

wife. Could I join you for a moment?" The old man shuffled into the

kitchen and took a seat at the table. He poured a brandy into one of