“Come in,” he called.
The door opened slowly, almost reluctantly and the man who peered inside wasn’t in uniform. For a moment Dean considered sending him away, but then he recognized Werner Böhm. Now, that’s a surprise!
He kind of liked Böhm, who – although a staunch communist – always tried to stick to facts and reason. The last time they’d had a short conversation was at the horrible two-year anniversary of the capitulation in Karlshorst. He wondered what the Moscow stooge could possibly want this early in the morning.
“Good morning, Herr Kommandant,” Böhm said, standing in the doorframe, nervously scanning the room. He looked like he hadn’t slept all night with dark shadows beneath his alert eyes. “Do you have a minute to talk… in private?”
Dean was thoroughly intrigued and pointed to the chair in front of his desk, “Close the door and take a seat, please.”
“Herr Kommandant,” Böhm said in flawless English. “I have an unusual request, but first I must ask you for complete confidentiality. Nobody can know about our conversation.”
Dean cocked his head. Things were getting stranger by the minute and he wondered what kind of top-secret mission Böhm was on. Did he bring a peace offering from Sokolov on the matter of the Lord Mayor? Unlikely. The Soviets didn’t send German communists to negotiate with the other Allies.
Or did Böhm know something about the four hundred abducted German engineers, whisked away to the Soviet Union during a cloak-and-dagger operation to work for their new masters? But why would he come to him? What did he want in return?
“Nobody will learn about this conversation from me,” Dean said and leaned back, quietly observing how Böhm nodded and fidgeted with his hands while taking a seat. The man was supremely nervous. For a moment Dean feared the German might plan something stupid and felt for the pistol he always kept in the open drawer of his desk.
During his two years in Berlin he’d received countless anonymous death threats, but he’d never actually considered someone coming into his office to kill him. Germans weren’t allowed to carry weapons, either. Not even the police. He relaxed again and shoved the frightening thought aside.
“This might sound rather strange to you, but…” Böhm inhaled deeply before he continued. “…I’m seeking your help to leave Berlin.”
Dean was stunned into silence, while the wheels in his brain set in motion and connected the dots. After long moments of silence, he asked, “You want to defect?”
Böhm buried his face in his hands before he looked up again and responded, “Yes. I… I have witnessed such awful things that I simply cannot stay loyal to the Soviets anymore. And… I’m afraid they will find out about my critical opinion and make me disappear forever. I got to know you as an honorable and upright man, therefore I’m coming here laying my fate in your hands.” Böhm bowed his head, as if waiting for Dean to slay his neck with a sharp blade.
Dean was speechless. Sure, there had been cases of defectors, mostly from the Soviet occupied zone, but nobody as high-up in the hierarchy as Böhm. He was a big fish. One that Dean could possibly exploit for anti-Soviet propaganda, maybe even use his intricate knowledge of the Soviet workings to coax Sokolov into agreeing to some of the disputed points at the Kommandatura. But… how could he know this wasn’t a ploy? He decided to get more information first.
“You’re right, that’s quite an unusual request and you will forgive me for having to ask some questions first.” The secret dossier he had on Böhm depicted the man as reasonable and humane, but a loyal Russian operative. Many defectors had become spies and Harris had to be careful since such an incident might cause friction in both the Kommandatura and the Allied Control Council.
Böhm nodded. “Anything you want.”
Dean couldn’t help but smile at the other man who was so obviously desperate. “You must know that there’s no way back, ever. So, what made you take this decision?”
“I have come to the conclusion that Stalin and his cronies have perverted the idea of communism to such a point that I can’t shoulder the responsibility of being part of these crimes against humanity.” Böhm straightened his shoulders and his eyes locked with Dean’s. “You will understand that I need to keep some of my knowledge as a pledge to make sure you get me safely out of Berlin and into the American zone in Germany. But I promise to tell your people everything I know, including…” Böhm looked around the room as if to make sure nobody was present to overhear them. “…the truth about the student leaders Tauber and Berger.”
Dean suppressed a gasp. Böhm had just validated his suspicions about the sudden confessions of the student leaders who fought for more democracy and less indoctrination. But he thought it wiser not to react to the bait.
“I understand your need to keep an ace up your sleeve, but I will need something with more substance to believe you. Smuggling a man of your position out of Berlin isn’t an easy undertaking and we risk the wrath of your Soviet masters.”
Böhm visibly flinched when Dean mentioned his Soviet masters, which led him to believe Böhm was telling the truth. More than ever Dean wished to have one of his experienced interrogators by his side. But since he’d promised the other man absolute confidentiality, he had to rely on his own instincts.
“I can’t divulge anything right now, because if I do, and the Soviets somehow find out…” Böhm didn’t finish his sentence. “Please, you must believe me. I will answer any and all questions as soon as I’m in a safe place.” Böhm’s pleading face shook Dean to the core. Having fought his way from Normandy all the way across the Rhine, he knew a desperate man when he saw one.
“All right. Walk from the Brandenburger Tor in the direction Tiergarten at 8 a.m. tomorrow morning. Someone will ask you for directions to Alexanderplatz. Follow this person,” he instructed Böhm, while his mind fervently tried to come up with a plan to take it from there. “Don’t take anything with you, except for a briefcase with your dearest things.”
Böhm nodded and made to get up.
“One more thing. If you’re not alone or are followed, we scrub the entire operation, and there won’t be a second chance,” Dean said.
“Understood. And, thank you.” Böhm hesitated for a split second, but then turned around and left the room, leaving Dean frantically thinking about a way to get the defector out of Berlin.
By air, obviously, but how to get him safely to Tempelhof airport? And whom should he send to the meeting point? It had to be a civilian, someone entirely innocuous. A woman.
He picked up the phone to dial the number of his deputy and organize Böhm’s escape from the Soviet sphere of influence.
Chapter 35
July 1947
On his way home, Werner was plagued with doubts. For one thing, he didn’t have anything but Dean Harris’ word. What if the American turned on him and called Sokolov? Cold sweat broke out and ran in rivulets down his back.
He balled his trembling hands into fists and hid them in the pockets of his coat. He had no option but to trust Harris, since he’d gambled his life on the premise that an American promise had more substance than a Russian one. What if he had misjudged the American Kommandant?
Suddenly he began to see NKVD police at every corner, ready to pounce on him. Completely shaken and exhausted he arrived at his office in the Haus der Einheit.
“Hey, Böhm, running late today?”
His head snapped in the direction of the caller, instinctively raising his hands to parry an attack. “Oh, good morning Comrade, the bus had to stop because of an accident.”