The Helsinki Pact (55 page)

As she reached it and inserted
the key her hand shook and in her fear she tried to turn it the
wrong way before realising and opening the lock, Hanno's footsteps
thundering closer as she pushed open the heavy door and slammed it
shut against him. Moments later the door shook as he apparently
hurled himself against it, shouting at her to open. She stopped to
put her key in the lock and then bent it rapidly from side to side
until the metal cracked, leaving the end jammed in the lock,
sealing it for the moment against use.

Panting, she ran upstairs
wondering if there was some other exit, perhaps by a fire escape,
through the attics or over the roofs. As she reached the third
floor a door below opened and she heard steps dragging to the front
door. Looking over the rail she saw the small woman with grey hair
and a pronounced limp. It was only a matter of time minutes before
Hanno would identify himself and the old woman would try to open
the door to him.

Chapter 46

Sunday January 21
1990, evening

“
HI, there! I’m
back!”

Thomas bounded up the stairs to
Kai’s apartment, knocked in their code to warn her and then
unlocked the door, flinging it open and rushing in, slamming it
behind him. Two days away from Bettina at this stage of their
relationship was too long, he'd thought. Now he was eager to see
her again, to tell her that it looked as if everything was going to
be fine.

On the flight back he’d drifted
into a comfortable doze and indulged in a lucid dream where he
played and replayed the coming scene, telling her that the BND
agents had agreed to all his demands, including to help Paul, and
had been deeply grateful for his help. He roamed around different
scenarios, including one where the agents had held out against
helping Paul and where he overcame their resistance by deploying
irrefutable logical arguments and sheer force of will. "You're a
force of nature, Mr Schultz," he'd had Bockmann saying, before
deciding to tone things down to more plausible levels. Still, a
little heightening of the difficulties was surely permissible and
he felt he deserved the gratitude that would show in her eyes and
the special extra warmth she would bring to her embrace for saving
her brother.

But now there was silence. The
bedroom door stood open and the room was empty. It was the same
with the bathroom. Bettina seemed to have vanished. The balcony was
tiny and there was nowhere in the apartment she could hide, no
cupboard large enough, no hidden corner. She’d clearly left. His
heart sank and for a moment he wondered if she’d changed her mind
about collaborating and had gone into hiding elsewhere. Surely she
hadn’t risked returning to her own apartment – that would have been
madness.

The tape machine was still
running, the reel turning slowly and the tapes were neatly piled
up. That was reassuring. If someone from the police or the Firm had
been there they would certainly have removed what they found of
interest. Nor had Frau Schwinewitz been snooping around as there
were no signs of disturbance or searching, no signs of any foreign
presence, nothing unusual or out of place.

He searched carefully for a note
or any clue that Bettina might have left for him but there was
nothing. He wondered if she’d found the set of keys to the basement
and gone there to explore, perhaps even to hide. Had she explored
the tunnel itself and was now in the West? He shook his head.
“That’s fanciful!” he decided “She knows nothing of the basement or
the tunnel and how could she possibly make her way safely along the
tracks?” A moment later he discovered the basement key still in the
small jar in the kitchen but saw also that the spare set of keys to
the apartment weren’t in their usual place. That suggested she'd
gone out for some reason, but why? And why was she not
back?

"Dear God, no." he thought,
slumping into the easy chair. "She's been seen and caught." Perhaps
even at this moment she was being interrogated by Sponden or
Roehrberg or by one of the specialists who had no compunction about
what they did to extract information. "Perhaps she's already been
killed." His euphoria gave way to despair, his eyes welled up and
the emotion hit him hard. He sat still, eyes closed, considering
the possibilities and what he should now do. He forced himself to
think. "Bettina's a survivor if anyone is." he concluded. "She is,
really she is."

He stopped the machine and
dropped the newer tapes into his rucksack. He didn’t know when, or
even if, Köpp would permit him to listen to the material so it was
better if he took the tapes now. He set the machine recording
again, a fresh tape in place. He slipped the basement key into his
pocket, made some coffee and sat on the sofa bed to think things
through.

If Bettina had been caught by the
Firm it had to be today, and almost certainly not long ago, as
otherwise the apartment would have been ransacked and a guard
posted. Actually, they'd have posted a guard anyway, he decided, so
this place must be still secret. “Well, at least if they haven't
traced her here or tortured it out of her.” he thought and winced
at the memory of his own ordeal in the Stasi cells and the beating
he’d been given on Dieter’s orders when it was discovered he'd been
lying. If Bettina had been caught then remaining in the apartment
was dangerous. But so was returning to his flat in West Berlin,
where they’d probably be watching and waiting for him. Yet where
else could he go?

He looked round the room, saw his
gun beside the TV and put it into his jacket pocket, feeling a
little reassured at its weight and ready accessibility. He wondered
about Bettina’s gun but much as he searched it was nowhere to be
found. The thought that she was at least armed comforted
him.

He drank his coffee and cursed
Bockmann. If only that man hadn’t insisted that his full confession
be taped before he returned to Berlin they wouldn’t be in this
mess. Thomas had argued he needed to get back urgently but Bockmann
had been adamant. The deal had to be done according to the rules
and he, Bockmann, was the one making them. That’s just how it was.
If Thomas preferred time in a West German jail that was an
alternative that could be arranged instead. Now Bockmann’s rules
looked as if they might have killed their chances of
surviving.

He checked through his rucksack.
The West German passport the BND had prepared for Bettina was
there, together with the hair dye preparation and the coloured
contact lenses. The striking blonde would become a brunette who
attracted no interest. It had all looked so simple when they'd
discussed matters in the BND’s office. Thomas would leave the tapes
in the apartment and agents would go pick them up later, using the
copy of Thomas’ keys they'd made while he was in Frankfurt. He was
ready to leave but there was no sign of Bettina.

Suddenly there was the violent
slam of the street door and loud, confused shouting and noise. He
ran to the door, opened it quietly and looked down into the hallway
where he saw someone was locking the door, twisting the key around
in agitation. There was hard banging on the door outside and a man
was shouting furiously. He could see little of the figure except
the coat, part of a dress, and a headscarf and in a moment it was
hurrying upstairs.

"Bettina!" he thought. "That's
her! That's how she moves." Then the figure stopped briefly on the
floor below to peer over the rail and in a wave of disappointment
he thought he must be mistaken but then it started up the last
flight to the apartment, taking the steps two at a time. Certain it
was Bettina but now confused and knowing that a mistake might cost
him his life he moved back out of sight and waited, gun at the
ready, until the figure reached the top.

As he moved forward Bettina from
the shadows Bettina instinctively brought out her own gun but then
recognised him and hurled herself into his arms, kissed him and
almost at once disengaged herself.

“We have to get out somehow. I
had to go out but I was seen. Hanno! He's with them now. I’ve
jammed the door but he’ll break through any time. The roof? Can we
escape there?”

“Not possible. But there's
another way.Anything you need from here?” She shook her head. Let’s
go!” He grabbed the rucksack, closed and fully locked the apartment
door and hurried her down the stairs, two or three steps at a time,
guns ready. At the first floor they could hear the furious
commotion below. Hanno was hammering on the door, kicking it wildly
and shouting.

“The lock is jammed. I can’t open
it.” Frau Schwinewitz shouted back, trying to assert her position
as the building’s custodian and long time Stasi monitor. “You must
find a locksmith to come here and open it. Then if you show me your
documents and can confirm your status and authority, I will let you
in.”

For a moment there was silence
and then the door shook from a further assault and the man standing
outside roared with a fury than made Frau Schwinewitz shrink back.
There was further silence and then the voice spoke quietly but with
clear authority and menace.

“Listen to me carefully, old
woman. The girl is dangerous and must not be permitted to leave. If
she does, you will answer for it, believe me. Be sure of that,
whatever your age or previous party service. I will find some way
of getting in but until I do make sure that no one, no one,
absolutely no one, leaves. Remember, you will answer personally if
they do.”

“Wait there by the door while I
go to my apartment, just here, to get a weapon. There is no other
way out of the building. She can't escape. When I return and guard
the door in turn you can find a locksmith.”

As Frau Schwinewitz turned from
the door Thomas and Bettina heard a muttered “Fuck the locksmith!”
and the door shuddered as Hanno threw his weight against it. They
looked cautiously out from the shadows on the half landing,
listening to the dragging footsteps as the old woman made her slow
way back to her apartment and disappeared inside.

“Now!” Thomas hissed and they
moved rapidly down the last half flight, crossed the hall and
opened the door to the basement, jamming it behind them with the
wedge of wood used sometimes to keep it open.

Outside in the street Hanno was
pacing up and down, waiting for Frau Schwinewitz to return,
relieving his impatience and frustration by periodically kicking
hard and charging the door and shouting for her. At least he now
had Bettina cornered. He knew these apartment blocks well enough to
know that the only way in and out was through the door he was
guarding. She was his. That much was certain.

He thought back to his part in
Dieter’s recent assassination and how his partner there had double
crossed him at the last moment although Hanno been the first to
shoot immediately after Dieter opened the door. Sponden’s orders
had been clear – he’d wanted Dieter dead and whoever achieved that
would get a bonus of fifty thousand DM on top of the base fee of
sixty thousand to each of them. He’d fired twice and as Dieter lay
on the floor knelt, put his pistol to the jerking head and fired
again, stilling it. As he stood up his companion had fired four
times into the now lifeless body, smiled at Hanno and remarked
“Guess we’ll just have to share the bonus, eh? Let's have a look
round and see if there's anything interesting hidden
here.”

At least this time there was no
one to cut him out. He’d had some initial qualms about killing
Dieter but it was clear Dieter was on the wrong side and had to go
whereas someone like Sponden would certainly survive. This was no
time for personal loyalties or for remembering past debts. It was
important to be alert and to stake out one’s position in the
exciting new era which would open up after unification.

Bettina and Thomas were marked
too, it seemed. He'd glanced through the files he'd found hidden in
Dieter's house, taking the trouble to copy them before passing them
on to Sponden. Their contents didn't particularly surprise him
although learning why Bettina had become an agent and how Thomas
had been blackmailed was interesting information he filed away
mentally. He'd had a suspicion of the real reason for their mission
in Dresden and the files confirmed what Dieter had asked them to
investigate and therefore how dangerous both Bettina and Thomas now
were.

He didn't care about Thomas in
the least but he'd need to steel himself to despatch Bettina. The
trick was removing any friendly connection between them. He'd shown
that he could shoot a man as easily as a surplus horse; well then,
what was difficult about dealing similarly with a woman? Dieter had
been an enemy and Bettina's loyalty to Dieter, as well as what she
had now probably discovered, condemned her. That they'd they'd been
friendly once, close even, was irrelevant. He mustn't think about
earlier friendships; she was worthless, an enemy like
Dieter.

There was also that time in
Poland when he'd proposed seriously to her and she'd laughed at
him, startled, even though she was kind to him as well. That she
didn't respond to him rankled and was something he could never
forgive. So, yes, he would first take what she'd denied him in
Poland and then kill her as her kind deserved. The thought both
excited and angered him. He banged hard on the door again then
reached inside his belt and eased his underwear as he thought of
the coming meeting. "I could shoot her at the very instant!" he
thought. "A double climax."