Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

mean, Corporal. That ever since the Second World War, the East Germans

have run rings around their Russian masters."

Goltz bowed his head slightly, acknowledging a selfevident truth.

Andrei flushed axid rose from the table.

"Pay no attention to him, Andrei," R@kov said. "He's only trying to

provoke us."

"That's right, Corporal," Harry taunted. "Follow your captain's

example. I insult him, and what does he do? Lies back and takes it,

like a good Russian."

Andrei charged from the table. Harry darted out of the chair and

sidestepped him. "Now, now, Corporal, I advise you to treat me with

discretion. When Kosov returns, he'll enlighten you as to my privileged

status within your organization."

"My God!" Goltz cried. "He's insufferable! He insults your homeland

to your face, then tells,you that he secretly serves it? Are you

complete fools?"

"It's Kosov's responsibility," Rykov said slowly. "He'll be back soon."

The Russian captain squinted at Harry. "And while we wait, Major

Richardson is going to tell us exactly what was found at Spandau last

night."

Harry caught a sudden, furtive alertness in Axel Goltz's eyes. "I just

might do that, Captain," he @d lightly, his eye on the But German.

Goltz stiffet".

"Tell you what," Harry went on, "get me something to drink, and I'll

tell you boys part of a very interesting story."

Axel Goltz had compressed his muscles like steel springs.

Harry sensed it like a hunter senses his dog straining to break cover.

He rechecked everyone's position: Goltz stood by the table, Rykov still

blocked the door. But Andrei stood only a single step from Harry's

chair, his eyes smoldering.

He had to be moved.

"I'll take Scotch, if you have it," Harry said.

"Get him a vodka, Andrei," Rykov ordered.

Thank you God! Harry flexed his calf muscles. s th Andrei started to

obey his captain, but after two step , e resentment he'd been nursing

since the argument at Klaus's house finally surfaced. He stopped and

turned back to his commander. "Get it yourself," he said deflandyRykov

went pale at this public challenge to his authority.

He stood erect and laid a hand on the machine pistol in his belt.

"You mutinous bastard!" he said, stepping forward.

Harry's heart pounded. Jesus, this is it ... Andrei now stood five feet

away from him, facing Rykov in fury. It's now or neverThen Harry saw

something so unexpected that it froze him in his chair. Axel Goltz

silently brought a Heckler & Koch PSP pistol out of his jacket and aimed

it not at Harry, but at Dmitri Rykov's astonished face.

"Back against the wall, you Russian bastard!" he shouted.

"Throw your gun on the floor!"

Andrei whirled, then froze. Rykov dropped his Skorpion on the floor.

"Have you gone mad?" he asked, an incredulous smile on his face.

Goltz grinned scornfully. "Are you surprised, my little Russian

puppies? Surprised that a German is about to blow your puny brains

out?"

"You crazy fucking German," said Rykov, still unbelieving.

"You're a dead man. No matter what you do now, Kosov will hunt you

down. That demon Misha will slice your throat like a bratwurst."

Goltz spoke over his shoulder. "Stand up, Major. You and I are going

to take a short ride together. You're about to find out what a real

interrogation is like. AGe.nnan interrogation."

"You won't get away with this," Rykov said uselessly.

Goltz laughed coldly. "Of course I will. Corporal Ivanov has already

reasoned out my alibi. I left here to attend to other business, you two

quarreled, and Major Richardson managed to kill you both and escape.

With two idiots like you, Kosov will be the first to believe it."

"But why?" asked Rykov, fascinated by Goltz's apparently suicidal

impulse. "Do you work for the Americans?"

I'm afraid he doesn't, Harry thought with a sinking head.

Raising his chin proudly, Goltz spoke his next words in German.

"If I die," he said softly, "I die for Germany. For Phoenix."

His voice dropped still lower. "Der tag kommt. "

"The day approaches," Harry echoed softly. What the hell?

At that moment Corporal Andrei Ivanov chose to die a soldier's death.

With no weapon but his hands he charged a man who was pointing a

semi-automatic pistol at him.

Stunned by this display of courage, Goltz hesitated for a split-instant,

then fired. Andrei took a round in the chest, but he kept coming.

Rooted to his chair, Harry watched the doomed charge with hypnotic

fascination. Goltz's third bullet killed the Russian, but the

corporal's furious momentum bowled the Stasi agent over backward.

Shaken to the core, Harry wrenched his mind back to reality. He knew he

couldn't beat a bullet to the door; with a cry he hurled himself from

the chair and crashed headlong through the window, trailing the curtains

after him into the darkness.

Axel Goltz heaved Andrei's bleeding body off him and wmmbled to his

feet. Rykov was nowhere to be seen. Cursing, Goltz darted to the

window and hit a switch that flooded the courtyard with light. He saw

only a sparkling jigsaw.of shattered glass. Taking three steps back, he

rushed the jagged window and leaped through. He tumbled across the

glass-covered bricks in an expert parachutist's roll and came to his

feet at a run. The glass cut him badly, but he uttered no sound as he

disappeared into the darkness after Harry.

226 A.M. The NaHerman Cabin Near Wollsbiirg, FRG

"Stop tying to change my mind!" Hans shouted. He lashed out with his

cuffed hands, missing Hauer's face by inches.

Hauer didn't flinch. They sat opposite each other on the cabin floor,

Hans with his back set against the wan, the foil packet containing the

Spandau papers in his lap. Behind Hans's eyes swirled a thousand

currents of rage and tension.

"Listen," Hauer pressed, "you're reacting just like every relative of

every kidnap victim I've ever seen. No one wants police

involved-they'll try anything to get their loved one back. Anything but

the right thing. You know better, Hans.

You know how many kidnap victims we get back alive: ninety percent of

hostages are dead before the ransom call ever comes. You've already

been lucicy- You can get Ilse back, but you're going to have to take

her."

Hans glowered at the floor. Statistics meant nothing to him now.

All he could see was the nightmare image of the girl dredged from the

Havel, leached gray by the oily river ...

Hauer watched him silently. For the fifteen minutes since Hans regained

consciousness, Hauer had tried in vain to convince him that Ilse's only

chance lay in rescue. In his mind there was no other option. Bitter

experience had taught him that the real hostages in a kidnapping were

the family members left behind, not the victim In @ years Hauer had seen

them all: the shattered mothers who served coffee to the police in

zombie-like traces of sedation; the raging fathers who refused to sleep

until they collapsed from exhaustion; the wives who could not stop

crying, or who could not cry at all; and the husbands, like Hans, who

toughed it out in stoic silence until helplessness and despair finally

unmanned them. Hans had to be saved from himself.

Hauer watched as, despite the handcuffs, Hans worked open the foil

packet containing the Spandau papers. Hans examined the first page-the

scrawled German that switched to carefully blocked Latin-md then,

apparently satisfied that Natterman had not tried to steal the precious