Spandau Phoenix (79 page)

"Let's have that jacket, Professor," said Stern. "I must wear something Ilse can recognize immediately."

Hauer wanted to argue, but he could think of no better plan. He watched enviously as the Israeli prepared to slip into the very center of his metaphorical spider's web.

As Stern stripped, Professor Natterman leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Remember what we talked about on the plane, Jonas? About the man with one eye? About Hess-" Stern gently but firmly shoved Natterman away. Naked to the waist, he handed his pistol to Gadi, then turned to Hauer and smiled.

"Sorry, Captain," he said. "You're just too young for the job."

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

337 Pm. Van der Wan Straat, Pretoria Yuri Borodin wiped his neck and forehead with a silk handkerchief.

It was beastly hot in the van, with the oppressive closeness of impending rain, and it stank. The van's engine was not running, so there was no air conditioning. Borodin looked up. Five fleshy faces stared dumbly back at him. Gorilles. That's what Borodin called them.

Embassy gorillas.

They were the KGB muscle available at every Russian embassy in the world, and everywhere in the world they looked the same. Off-the-rack suits, pomaded hair, big faces, big fists, and most of them smelled.

Of course there were no Russian embassies in South Africa, but there was an illegal residency in Johannesburg. And the gorillas from the residency had the same aroma, a cloying mix of body odor and aftershave.

"Crack a window," said Borodin.

The driver did.

"Gentlemen, Captain Dieter Hauer is in the hotel on my right, the Protea Hof. With him are some scruffy fellows who look suspiciously like Jews." Borodin clucked his tongue. "Germans and Jews ... an often explosive combination."

One of the gorillas chuckled appreciatively. Ah, Borodin thought, a rudimentary sense of humor "Across the street in the Stanley House," he went on, "we have our restless Germqn Kripo detective. He's big, but he shouldn't be much trouble. Two of you should be enough for him.

When he's dead, leave his ID but take his money." Borodin took a Heckler and Koch MP-5 submachine gun from a leather attache case. "The rest of us will take room 604." He singled out the leanest of the gorillas. "You know the window?"

The lean man lifted a Dragunov sniper rifle from his lap and zipped it into a soft case. "Sixth floor," he said, "third window from the left."

Borodin screwed a long silencer onto the muzzle of his MP-5.

"Let's go."

3.-42 Pm. Room 604: The Protea Hof Hotel, Pretoria

Jonas Stern would have verbally crucified Gadi and his men for their laxness, but had they not been so attuned to Stern's absence, they might have defended themselves better. When the telephone rang, everyone turned toward it thinking it was Stern. Hauer turned from the window, Natterman from one of the beds, Yosef from the space between the other bed and the bathroom wall, and most importantly, Aaron from the foyer.

No one heard the key gurning soffly in the door.

Closest to the phone, Gadi Ah@ams snatched it up and said, "Hello?

Hello? Uncle Jonas?"

In that instant of shared bewilderment, a rifle slug shattered the hotel room window, missing Hauer by a centimeter.

Everyone whirled toward the crashing sound. A half second later one of Borodin's gorillas charged through the foyer and bowled Aaron Haber over like a child. Hauer looked wildly. His Walther lay on the bed six feet away. He started to dive for it; then thii second gorilla came through the door with his pistol aimed at Hauer's chest. Standing open mouthed with the telephone to his ear, Gadi Abrar also was trapped in the newcomer's line of fire.

Only Yosef Shamir moved to counterattack, Yosef who died. He had been toying with Hans's crossbow in the narrow slot between the bed and the bath when the Russians burst in. With lightning speed he dropped the bow, drew his silenced .22 and fired three shots in rapid succession as the second gorilla emerged from the foyer and barreled past him.

All three bullets embedded themselves high in the Russian's broad back.

He went down on top of his compadre who was wrestling with Aaron on the floor. The .22 caliber slugs only slowed the Russian giant, but that slowness saved his life. As Yosef stepped forward to finish him off, Yuri Borodin somersaulted through the foyer and shot the young Israeli through the throat.

By the time Gadi got his hand on Hauer's Walther, Borodin was covering the entire room. Faced with the deadly MP-5 submachine gun, Hauer, Gadi, and Aaron realized the futility of further resistance.

They slowly raised their hands, their eyes locked on Yosef's convulsing body.

It took the young commando forty seconds to die, and no one spoke while he did it. They had all seen death be@ -ore, and knowing that no help would be called sed a solemn silence on both attackers and hostages.

Professor Natterman was the first to make a sound, chattering "Why?

Why?" to everyone and no one at the same time.

@"You," said Borodin, pointing his weapon at Hauer. Close the-drapes."

Hauer didn't move.

Borodin checked his watch. "Close the drapes within five seconds or you will be shot by my sniper. Everyone against the window."

Hauer obeyed. Gadi and Aaron backed against the closed drapes and stood beside Hauer. The gorilla that Yosef had shot was straining without success to reach the wounds on his back, and moaning like a dying ox.

Borodin ordered the .. gorilla to take him into the bathroom and see to the wounds; then he casually seated himself on the bed nearest Hauer.

Natterman sat gibbering on the bed opposite , but the immaculately dressed Russian took no notice-took out a cigarette and lit it with great deliberation.

"Gentlemen,"'he said in English, "I have come for the papers found at Spandau Prison. Which one of you has them?" "None of us," Hauer replied in the same language.

in took a drag from his cigarette. He had noticed the accent.

"You are Captain Hauer, I take it?"

Hauer nodded- "Who are you?"

Borodin smiled, revealing a dazzling set o . f Swiss dental :"Once again, Captain, which of you has the papers?" "How did you find us?"

Gadi asked, stalling.

Borodin laughed softly. "A fat Kripo detective named Schneider lead me right to you. I assume he's a friend of yours."

Yes darkened in confusion.

Borodin smiled. "Of course the detective is dead now, Captain.

As you will be if you don't give up the papers."

"I told you before, we don't have them."

Borodin's smile stretched to a grimace. He called one of the gorillas back from the bathroom and barked several phrases at him in rapid Russian. Of the captives, only Aaron Haber-the son of a Lithuanian Jew-understood the exchange, but the color draining from his face told the others all they needed to know. The big Russian jerked Aaron away from the curtained window and kicked his legs out from under him. When the young Israeli tried to rise, the Russian locked a thick forearm around his neck and pressed the barrel of a silenced Browning 9mm pistol into his ear.

"The foreplay is over, gentlemen," Borodin said. His voice had not risen a single decibel, yet it had lost all trace of humanity.

Everyone in the room knew that the Russian would not hesitate to order Aaron's execution. Yet the young commando made no sound. He left his fate entirely in the hands of Gadi Abrams, who had been designated senior officer by Stern just before he left to rendezvous with the kidmappers.

"At the risk of sounding melodramatic," Borodin went on, "I'm going to count to five. If I do not have the Spandau papers when I reach that number, my loyal assistant will transform this young man's brain into kosher caviar."

"We don't have them," Hauer said again.

Borodin counted quickly. "One, two, three, four-"

"Stop !"

Professor Natterman cried, surprising everyone.

"In God's name stop! Listen to me, you barbarian! Hauer is telling the truth. Hans Apfel has the ori inal diary. Most of it, anyway. The Jew who left here a few minutes ago has the rest. My granddaughter has been kidnapped. We've come to exchange the papers for her life. Surely even you can understand that?"

Borodin stared at the historian. "How does that help me, old man? I need results, not excuses."

"There is a copy," Natterman explained. "A copy of the@ papers.

Photographs. You're Russian, correct? If you want to expose the truth about Rudolf Hess, that's all you need."

Natterman pointed across the room at Hauer. "He has them.

I'm sorry, Captain, those papers mean far more to me than to you, but they're simply not worth this boy's life."

Hauer stared at the old man with incredulity. This did not sound at all like the fame-obsessed professor he had com( know.

Borodin raised the MP-5 to Hauer's face. "The photographs, Captain."

Hauer didn't move.

"Kill the Jew," Borodin said calmly.

"Bastard," Hauer muttered. He jerked the envelope from his hip pocket and tossed it onto the bed.

Borodin held the negatives up to the overhead light, examined them briefly, then slipped them into his inside coat pocket. "I assume that none of you know the location of the people to whom your friend is trading the original papers?"

"That's right," Natterman said.

Borodin chuckled. "I thought not. If you did, this wonderful little commando unit wouldn't be sitting on its collective ass in a hotel room."

In spite of the gun at his temple, Aaron cursed and tried to lash out at the Soviet agent. Borodin stepped aside and called to one of the residency men, "Dmitri! Leave their weapons, but take their ammunition!"

Two minutes later Borodin stood smirking in the foyer, 'flanked by his gorillas. The Russian who had not been wounded held a pillowcase weighted with Uzi ammunition clips, boxes of shells, and loose .22

rounds.

"This soiree is over, gentlemen," Borodin said. "I'll take my leave now." He accented his farewells with a broad flourish of his hand. "Do svidamya! Shalom! Auf Wieders.ihen!" Borodin burst into laughter, then motioned for one of the gorillas to open the door.

The moment the Russian holding the pillowcase turned the doorknob, the door burst open and knocked him back ward against his wounded comrade.

From the window, Hauer gaped as the back of the wounded man's head exploded.

The second Russian groped at his belt for his pistol, but two bullets hit him low in the stomach and severed his spinal cord. While Borodin backpedaled out of the foyer and spun toward the window. Hauer and the Israelis dropped to the carpet as slugs from his MP-5 peppered the bed and the wall - and the ceiling. Hauer looked up just as two bright red flowers blossomed on Borodin's shoulders.

Hauer and Gadi were on their feet by the time Borodin's body hit the floor. Standing in the doorway, his shoulders stretching from post to post, was a very large man holding a Walther pistol in his hand. A gray hat was pressed down over his bloody head, and a brass gorget plate hung from his neck. On it was a capital K, the emblem of the Berlin Kriminalpolizei.

"Captain Hauer?" Schneider said.

Hauer stepped forward and nodded.

Schneider put his gun in his pocket. "I need to talk to YOU."

Gadi Abrams crouched over Borodin, who lay pale and shaking on the carpet. He rifled Borodin's pocket for' Hauer's envelope, found it, and tossed the negatives to Hauer. Then he leaned down over Borodin's face.

"Where is your sniper?" he shouted. "Where!"

Borodin smiled. "Fuck you, Jew."

Gadi snatched up a pillow, crushed it over Borodin's face and punched him hard on his wounded shoulder. The muffled howl that followed did not sound-human. Gadi pulled the pillow away.

"Across ... across the street," Borodin croaked. "Room 528 ...

the Stanley ... House."

Gadi closed his brown hands around Borodin's throat and began to squeeze. "For Yosef," he said softly.

Detective Schneider crossed the room and shouldered Gadi off of the Russian. He crouched down beside him.

"Are you Yuri Borodin?" he asked tersely. "Are you the man who killed Major Harry Richardson?"

Borodin stared up with glassy eyes. He saw little chance of leaving this room alive. His pale face wrinkled into a sneer. "The Swastika was a nice touch ... don't you think?"

Schneider sighed heavily. In his mind he saw the dim, overheated bedroom where he and Colonel Rose had examined Harry's mutilated corpse.

In the close South African heat, it wasn't hard to recall. "I should let you bleed to death," he growled.

"Fuck you too, you stinking German."

While Hauer and the Israelis watched in disbelief, Schneider closed one huge hand around Borodin's throat and squeezed with the remorseless force of a root cracking concrete. Schneider did not see Hauer signal to Gadi, or the two Israelis approach him from behind.

The moment Borodin's legs stopped thrashing, the Israeli commandos seized him.