VW around a turn. In gold.
CHAPTER TWO
5.'55 A.M. Soviet Sector. East Berlin, DDR The KGB's RYAD computer logged the Spandau call at 05:55:32 hours Central European Time. Such exactitude seemed to matter a great deal to the new breed of agent that passed through East Berlin on their training runs these days.
They had cut their too-handsome teeth on microchips, and for them a case that could not be reduced to microbits of data to feed their precious machines was no case at all. But to Ivan Kosov-the colonel to whom such calls were still routed-high-tech accuracy without human judgment to exploit it meant nothing. Snorting once to clear his chronically obstructed sinuses, he picked up the receiver of the black phone on his desk.
"Kosov," he growled.
The words that followed were delivered with such hysterical force that Kosov jerked the receiver away from his ear.
The man on the other end of the phone was the "sergeant" from the Spandau guard detail. His actual rank was captain in the KGB, Third Chief Directorate-the KGB division responsible for spying on the Soviet army. Kosov glanced at his watch. He'd expected his man back by now.
Whatever the flustered captain was screaming about must explain the delay.
"Sergei," he said finally. "Start again and tell it like a professional. Can you do that?"
Two minutes later, Kosov's hooded eyes opened a bit and his breathing grew labored. He began firing questions at his subordinate, trying to determine if the events at Spandau had been accidental, or if some human will had guided them.
"What did the Polizei on the scene say? Yes, I do see. Lis ten to me, Sergei, this is what you will do. Let this policeman do just what he wants. Insist on accompanying him to the station.
Take your men with you. He is with you now?
What is his name?" Kosov scrawled Hauer, Polizei Captain on a notepad.
"Ask him which station he intends to go to.
Abschnitt 53?" Kosov wrote that down too, recalling as he did that Abschnitt 53 was in the American sector of West Berlin, on the Friedrichstrasse. "I'll meet you there in an hour. It might be sooner, but these days you never know how Moscow will react. What? Be discreet, but if force becomes necessary, use it. Listen to me.
Between the time the prisoners are formally charged and the time I arrive, you'll probably have a few minutes. Use that time. Question each of your men about anything out of the ordinary they might have noticed during the night. Don't worry, this is what you were trained for." Kosov cursed himself for not putting a more experienced man on the Spandau detail. "And Sergei, question your men separately. Yes, now go. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Kosov replaced the receiver and searched his pocket for a cigarette. He felt a stab of incipient angina, but what could he expect? He had already outfoxed the KGB doctors far longer than he'd ever hoped to, and no man could live forever. The cigarette calmed him, and before he lifted the other phone-the red one that ran only east-he decided that he could afford sixty seconds to think this thing through properly.
Trespassers at Spandau. After all these years, Moscow's cryptic warnings had finally come true. Had Centre expected this particular incident? Obviously they had expected something, or they wouldn't have taken such pains to have their stukatch on hand when the British leveled the prison. Kosov knew there was at least one informer on his Spandau team, and probably others he didn't know about. The East German Security Service (Stasi) usually managed to bribe a@least one man on almost every KGB operation in Berlin. So much forfraternal socialism, he thought, reaching for a pencil.
He jotted a quick list of the calls he would have to make: KGB chairman Zemenek at Moscow Centre; the Soviet commandant for East Berlin; and of course the prefect of West Berlin police. Kosov would enjoy the call to West Berlin. It wasn't often he
CHAPTER TWO
5.'55 A.M. Soviet Sector. East Berlin, DDR The KGB's RYAD computer logged the Spandau call at 05:55:32 hours Central European Time. Such exactitude seemed to matter a great deal to the new breed of agent that passed through East Berlin on their training runs these days.
They had cut their too-handsome teeth on microchips, and for them a case that could not be reduced to microbits of data to feed their precious machines was no case at all. But to Ivan Kosov-the colonel to whom such calls were still routed-high-tech accuracy without human judgment to exploit it meant nothing. Snorting once to clear his chronically obstructed sinuses, he picked up the receiver of the black phone on his desk.
"Kosov," he growled.
The words that followed were delivered with such hysterical force that Kosov jerked the receiver away from his ear.
The man on the other end of the phone was the "sergeant" from the Spandau guard detail. His actual rank was captain in the KGB, Third Chief Directorate-the KGB division responsible for spying on the Soviet army. Kosov glanced at his watch. He'd expected his man back by now.
Whatever the flustered captain was screaming about must explain the delay.
"Sergei," he said finally. "Start again and tell it like a professional. Can you do that?"
Two minutes later, Kosov's hooded eyes opened a bit and his breathing grew labored. He began firing questions at his subordinate, trying to determine if the events at Spandau had been accidental, or if some human will had guided them.
"What did the Polizei on the scene say? Yes, I do see. Lis ten to me, Sergei, this is what you will do. Let this policeman do just what he wants. Insist on accompanying him to the station.
Take your men with you. He is with you now?
What is his name?" Kosov scrawled Hauer, Polizei Captain on a notepad.
"Ask him which station he intends to go to.
Abschnitt 53?" Kosov wrote that down too, recalling as he did that Abschnitt 53 was in the American sector of West Berlin, on the Friedrichstrasse. "I'll meet you there in an hour. It might be sooner, but these days you never know how Moscow will react. What? Be discreet, but if force becomes necessary, use it. Listen to me.
Between the time the prisoners are formally charged and the time I arrive, you'll probably have a few minutes. Use that time. Question each of your men about anything out of the ordinary they might have noticed during the night. Don't worry, this is what you were trained for." Kosov cursed himself for not putting a more experienced man on the Spandau detail. "And Sergei, question your men separately. Yes, now go. I'll be there as soon as I can."
Kosov replaced the receiver and searched his pocket for a cigarette. He felt a stab of incipient angina, but what could he expect? He had already outfoxed the KGB doctors far longer than he'd ever hoped to, and no man could live forever. The cigarette calmed him, and before he lifted the other phone-the red one that ran only east-he decided that he could afford sixty seconds to think this thing through properly.
Trespassers at Spandau. After all these years, Moscow's cryptic warnings had finally come true. Had Centre expected this particular incident? Obviously they had expected something, or they wouldn't have taken such pains to have their stukatch on hand when the British leveled the prison. Kosov knew there was at least one informer on his Spandau team, and probably others he didn't know about. The East German Security Service (Stasi) usually managed to bribe a@least one man on almost every KGB operation in Berlin. So much forfraternal socialism, he thought, reaching for a pencil.
He jotted a quick list of the calls he would have to make: KGB chairman Zemenek at Moscow Centre; the Soviet commandant for East Berlin; and of course the prefect of West Berlin police. Kosov would enjoy the call to West Berlin. It wasn't often he
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