Friedrich started talking faster, more frenzied. “You could even come with me. There’s good jobs in the West. We could make good lives for ourselves. Travel, even. I can’t spend the next ten years in a cell.”
Hans shook his head in anguish. “I can’t do that, Friedrich. If they press charges, I’ll help you beat them. I’ll stand by you. Testify for you. They won’t have enough evidence to convict you. But I can’t help you escape.”
Hot tears streamed down Friedrich’s cheeks. He clenched his jaw in frustration. “They know, Hans. And I won’t have a chance. This is the only chance I have.”
Friedrich stood and looked out the door. The fog was thick across the border fence. Friedrich reasoned he could disappear before the guard in the tower could get a bead on him. He wiped the tears from his cheeks, exhaled, then steeled his composure. “I wish you could come with me,” he told Hans. Then, motioning to the guard above, “But at least give me a head start.”
Hans shook his head, admonishing him to stay. “No, Friedrich.” It was to no avail.
Friedrich darted out the door. Hans reached out for him, but Friedrich slipped through his hands. “No!” Hans shouted. He was stunned, only for a moment, into standing frozen in place. Friedrich took off possessed toward the fence. Hans heard the guard stir in the observation deck above and then bolted after Friedrich, hoping to tackle him before the guard could fire.
The next few seconds were a blur. A shrill order to halt came from the tower above, followed by the piercing beam of a spotlight in the fog. It took a moment for it to find Friedrich, but then it locked onto his back. The shrill klaxon of the border alarm sounded through the mist. Hans continued sprinting after Friedrich, knowing either of them could step on a mine at any moment.
Hans, though incredibly fit, could not keep up with his friend. Friedrich was running for his life, and it drove him with more furor and purpose than he ever had before. Hans was relying more on instinct, though terribly conflicted. He didn’t want to deny Friedrich his freedom, but he also didn’t want him to die. Even worse, Friedrich had put him into a terrible position. Whether or not Hans helped him escape, if Friedrich was successful now, Hans’ career could be in serious jeopardy. He could not let Friedrich escape on his watch.
Everything felt wrong, and somehow, Hans could not bring his legs to push fast enough. As he watched the spotlight hold on Friedrich’s back, Hans realized the guard would shoot at any moment. Hans stopped and pulled out his Makarov. He fired a warning shot into the air, hoping to both stop Friedrich and delay the guard in the tower from shooting. Friedrich flinched at the report of the gun, but still he ran on toward the fence. As Friedrich reached out to the wire, Hans realized the one danger he had not reckoned, and shouted one last, deep, loud, and desperate cry to Friedrich. “No! Stop!”
But it was too late.
As Friedrich pulled himself up the fence, his foot brushed against a trip wire. An explosion sounded, sending a deep shudder through Hans. An automatic firing device had launched a cone of shrapnel into Friedrich’s body. Friedrich went limp, then fell from the fence like a rag doll. Hans ran to his side, but his friend’s fate was sealed. Dozens of shrapnel fragments had pierced Friedrich’s body, pulverizing flesh and severing veins and arteries. There was nothing Hans could do. Friedrich bled out silently. In the distance, barking watch dogs and the hum of motorized reinforcements joined with the shrill border alarm to create a symphony of death. They were sounds Hans would always remember.
9
Hans awoke early to the sound of knocking. He rose, stretched, and rubbed at the knot in his back he had gotten from slumping in the chair. Brushing off the cobwebs of sleep, Hans went to the door. He was grateful when he opened it to find Anna standing before him. She embraced and kissed him before he could utter a word. It was a good welcome.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she said. “The train from Berlin broke down, and I had to spend most of the night in Neubrandenburg.”
“There wasn’t another train to transfer to?” Hans asked.
Anna shook her head. “Mm-mm. They were doing track maintenance beyond Neubrandenburg, and all trains were stopped.”
Hans embraced her tightly, breathing in her soft perfume. “Let’s take a walk.”
The sandy beach was too cold for Hans and Anna to remove their shoes, but the air was fresh and the sky was clear. The sun was coming up in beautiful reddish-gold hues on the eastern horizon. Hans and Anna walked nonchalantly, but he scanned the beach and tree line to determine if they were alone. Gulls flew sporadically over the water, and a boy ran with his dog far down the shore, but otherwise they were alone. Satisfied, Hans stopped and embraced Anna, then whispered in her ear. He spoke clearly, so she could hear him over the sound of the sea, but at a volume so low the waves would have obstructed his words to anyone else.
He told her of Dietrich, of Scharf and Operation STOSS. He told her how Scharf was now orchestrating a mole hunt to find Dietrich’s killer. Anna listened intently, noting all of the details.
“So I can’t leave now,” Hans said. “But as soon as I can neutralize Scharf’s threat for good, I promise, I’ll go.”
“Good,” Anna said, “We’ll finish this business with Scharf together, and we can both go.”
Hans shook his head. “Absolutely out of the question. I want you to go back to West Berlin, and stay there until I join you.”
“You can’t ask me that. This is my duty too,” she said.
“This is different. Scharf has already killed one person. He won’t hesitate to kill another to achieve his plans.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t be here either,” Anna countered.
Hans looked out over the waves, then steeling himself, turned back to Anna. “I can’t let him find you. If you were captured, or harmed, I couldn’t live with it.”
“But I have to live with you taking that same risk? Don’t ask me to carry a burden you’re not willing to bear yourself,” Anna said.
“You don’t understand,” Hans said, his frustration building, “I can’t abandon my duty when I can’t be replaced.”
Anna stood erect, beautiful but angry, the early sun touching her blonde hair and turning it gold. It swept across her face in the wind, and she furiously threw it back over her shoulder.
“Do you think I’m any less committed? You didn’t have a family member slaughtered by communists because he wanted nothing more than freedom.” The words stung far more than the cold sea breeze. “You’re so sworn on taking this on by yourself you don’t see it will destroy you,” Anna continued. “Your duty isn’t a prison sentence—and it’s not a war you have to fight alone.”
“You wanted me to think about our future. I’m doing that,” Hans said. Anna allowed him to touch her shoulders, gently rubbing them to warm her in the morning chill. “But I can’t have much to hope for if you’re not safe, and I can’t take on Scharf if I’m worrying about you. I’m not trying to be a hero, Anna, that’s simply the truth.”
She brought his hands down and held them. “You’re not seeing this clearly,” she said. “You think the only way you can handle this is alone. If you fight them alone, they’ll destroy you.”
Anna drew back from him. It was a gesture that was meant to lessen the barb of her words, but instead Hans felt them more palpably as she withdrew from him. She looked into his eyes with sadness.
“It’s one thing to make a sacrifice, but you’re throwing everything away.” Anna turned and headed down the beach.
The wheels in CIA Berlin Station Chief James Crandall’s head were turning. He was always on the lookout to turn a situation to his advantage, and now he was forming a scheme that would do just that. A courier had just brought an alarming new report from the East. After quickly considering the information, Crandall called a meeting with three of the most skilled western intelligence officers in Berlin.