Greg Iles - The Spandau Phoenix

Several astonished young faces appeared at the doors.

"The fugitive is an American army major," he said more slowly, his voice

barely under control. "He's out of uniform and he speaks perfect

Russian. Probably perfect German too.

If he's apprehended, I want him brought here immediately."

Kosov ground his teeth furiously. "Any East German who attempts to get

close to him is to be shot. That is a direct order. Shoot any East

German who interferes. I want the full staff here in twenty minutes.

And get me the chief of the Stasi on the phone! Now!"

Sagging against a desk, Kosov tried to ignore the pounding in his head.

It seemed inconceivable,that Axel Goltz had been working for the

Americans. The man was practically a Nazi. Why would he turn on his

Russian masters? Especially since he could have no doubt that his

action would be suicidal. Kosov sighed hopelessly. He could do little

else until his department heads arrived. Slowly he walked back into his

office, closed the door, and sat at his desk. Borodin will throw me to

the dogs for this, he lamented. But not before I strain Axel Goltz

through a razor-wire sieve. Shoving the grainy photograph of Zinoviev

out of his way, he swallowed four aspirin without water, pressed his

forehead to the cold desktop, and waited for the phone to ring.

4:35 A.M. The Natterman Cabin: Near WoifsbUrg, FRG

The forger arrived two hours after Hauer's call. Professor Natterman's

explosion occurred two hours after that. Hauer and Hans had buried the

dead caretaker and his Afrikaner killer in the snow behind the cabin,

while Natterman stripped the bloody bedclothes and scrubbed away the

blood from the cabin's interior. The only remaining signs of trouble

were the shattered windows and door, and the Jaguar wrapped around the

plane tree out front.

Hauer's forger was astute enough to ignore all these signs.

Immensely fat and normally jovial, Hermann Rascher aPpeered to be in

mortal dread of Hauer. He lost no time in setting up his equipment.

A white screen and chair placed in front of the shattered window and an

assortment of chemicals laid out in the bathroom quickly converted the

bedroom into a small photographic studio.

Consistent with his plan of keeping Natterman in the dark until the last

minute, Hauer instructed the forger to shoot a passport picture of the

professor as if he too were to be given false papers.

But this ruse went for nothing. Despite Hauer's injunction against

discussing their plans, Natterman badgered him every moment that the

forger spent in his temporary darkroom. Before Rascher arrived Hauer

had probed the professor for his speculations on what the vital secret

of the Spandau papers might be, but Natterman had refused to be drawn

out. Now, though, Natterman was vigorously attempting to convince Hauer

it would be foolish to bait a rescue trap with the authentic papers.

"The kidnappers have obviously never seen the papers," he insisted, "so

it would be impossible for them to know they were being fooled. Captain,

I simply cannot agree to any plan which needlessly risks losing such an

important artifact."

Hauer had had enough. He walked to the bedroom door to make sure the

forger was closed inside the bathroom; then he turned back to Natterman.

"You don't have to agree, Professor," he said evenly.

"Because you're not coming to South Africa."

Natterman looked as if someone had emptied a bedpan in his face.

Too stunned to speak, he looked to Hans for support, but found none.

Hauer kept the initiative. "You're wounded, you can't move faster than

a slow walk, and you're over seventy, for God's sake."

Too angry to marshal logical arguments, Natterman raged like a thwarted

child. "You can't keep me out of this, you ... you fascist!"

While he ranted on, Hans walked to the window and tried to shut out the

argument. The snow was falling again. He shivered, realizing that

somewhere out there beyond the trees, beyond the road and the pristine

German fields, beyond the Alps, beyond a great sea and a vast, dark

continent, ]Ilse waited, frightened and alone. With a hollow coldness

in his chest, he wondered again about her last, anguished cry.

Could she really be pregnant at last? Or had the kidnappers somehow

twisted that desperate maternal hope out of her to use as extra LEVERAGE

I e? He banished the thought from his mind. That snake could eat its

tail forever, and his sanity with it. It had no bearing at all on the

rescue plan. He would keep that secret to himself. Whatever had passed

between him and his father in the last few hours, Hauer had no claim on

that knowledge yet "Hans, listen to thisi" the professor shrieked.

"Hauer said it himself.- The police only get ten percent of hostages

back alive! Remember Munich, Hans? The 'seventy-two Olympics? It was

Hauer and his stortntwpers who opened up on the Arabs while the hostages

were tied inside the helicopters. The Jews were blown to bits! Have

you forgotten that?

TWO days ago you hated this man. He deserted you and your mother! Now

you trust him to bring our Ilse back alivet' At the mention of Munich a

strange stillness came over Hauer. It was as if a ghost had touched him

with icy fingers.

His gray eyes turned opaque as they fixed on Natterman. His voice went

cold and flat. "I didn't see you on @ airfield that day."

Natteman started to reply, but when he recognized the glacial coldness

in Hauer's eyes the sound died in his throat.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I shouldn't have said that. But you don't

understand, Captain. The key to this situation isn't guns and tactics,

it's the Spandau papers. And you can't even read them! We're not

dealing with Arab terrorists or crazed students here-we're dealing with

the legacy of Adolf Hitler! The key to this whole mystery is in the and

I am the only man who can unravel it!"

Hauer sighed. "Professor, why don't you admit that the reason you want

so badly to come is that you can't bear to let those papers out of your

sight for one moment."

"Liar!" Natterman exploded.

"You didn't argue against forcible rescue until I said I wasn't

including you in the plan. Do you deny that?"

"How dare you!" Spittle flew from the old man's lips.

"You fool! You're not qualified to handle this alone! You think you're

chasing a neo-Nazi group called Phoenix? Then how do you explain the

tattooed eye? The Phoenix is a bird rising from the flames, not an eye.

Phoenix is the Greek name of the Egyptian god Bennu. The tattooed Eye

is also Egyptian-it's the Guarding Eye, the All-Seeing Eye, the Eye of

God from the Egyptian Book of the Dead.

Explain that to me, Captain!"

Hauer shrugged. "The Nazis used all kinds of rituals and mythology."

"Yes! But Teutonic and Arthurian mythology almost exclusively!

So, how do you explain the Egyptian symbols?"

Hauer remained silent while he digested Natterman's revelations.

"Professor," he said finally, "if you care about your granddaughter you

will write down everything you just told me, and you will stay by the

telephone so that you can provide us with any other information we

need."

"But I can go with you!" Natterman insisted. "I can keep UP !"

"Enough!" Hans cried, turning from the window. He stabbed a finger at

Natterman. "My decision's made. We're taking Ilse back, and my father

is in command from this point forward."

Natterman opened his mouth to continue, but the corpulent forger flung