“More guessing.”
“They wanted to get something on him. So Saratov could be the broom. Clean house. Man with a German mistress. This is the West to them. And he’d been here a long time. So a few personal details, for the files, just to make the case look real. Before Saratov came in to save everything. Start putting all those corrupting influences on trial. Jesus, Campbell, how did you feel doing this?”
Campbell was quiet for a minute. “You need to stop now. Before someone starts taking any of this seriously.”
“It was you.”
“Then you’re taking a helluva chance.”
“With you? Only a little one. I think you like other people to do it for you. And I have a gun too.” He looked over. “When you corner a man, you’d better be ready for anything, right? And I wouldn’t think twice. Not now. The last time I was in Lützowplatz I killed a man for you. That was hard. But that was a while ago. This time it would be easy.”
“Corner a man. With what? Some wild story? You haven’t cornered me.”
“No. I’m going to let somebody else do that.”
“What?”
“It’s a pity your Russians don’t share things with the Germans. Who you are, for instance. You should learn to trust them more. Otherwise, you start working at cross purposes.”
“What are-?”
“Here we are.”
“Where?”
“Lützowplatz. You weren’t here last time. You sent me instead. Into a trap. You wouldn’t think it, though. All open like this. So I thought, why not Lützowplatz this time.”
“For what?”
“To pick up Markovsky.”
“Who’s dead.”
“Mm. How are you going to explain that?”
“Me?”
Alex started around the square, listening for a screech of tires, but they swept past the south side of the square in silence, then up the street where his house had been. Where was Markus?
“What are you doing?”
Now the north leg, toward the bridge, almost completing the square. Markus didn’t know they were coming from Dahlem, from the south. Maybe he was waiting on the bridge, with a view of the whole square. Or maybe something had gone wrong. Another turn.
“What the hell are you doing?” Alarmed now. “Get out of here!”
Back to the bottom, about to turn and circle again. Where was he?
Campbell grabbed at the wheel, pulling right, out of the turn, so that they were shooting south out of the square. “Drive.”
Alex yanked back, breaking Campbell’s awkward hold, stepping on the gas.
“Fuck,” Campbell said and lunged now, fighting over the wheel, so that when he pulled it back the car skidded across the street, scraping into a standing wall. Alex stopped.
“Back up. Get out of here.”
But now a car was swerving out of the canal embankment, where it had been waiting, racing toward them, a matter of seconds, the same screech, blocking the car, two men jumping out, guns drawn, yanking the car doors open. Markus looked in.
“Where is he?”
“He’s got him,” Alex said. “Careful. He pulled a gun on me. He’s American intelligence.”
“What the fuck-?” Campbell said.
“Don’t move. Hold your hands out,” Markus said to Campbell. Then, to Alex, “What happened?”
“He tricked Irene. About moving Markovsky. But he didn’t know I’d bring him here. To you. Just take him and question him. Whatever you have to do. He knows where Markovsky is. It’s just a matter of getting him to tell you. Then you’ve got him.”
“What are you-?” Campbell said.
“Shut up. Get in the car,” Markus said, waving the gun to his car.
“I wouldn’t hold out,” Alex said to Campbell. “It’s never worth it.”
“He’s lying,” Campbell said to Markus. Then to Alex, “You lied to me.”
“You lied to me. That doesn’t make us even.”
“Alex, what-?”
“Go ahead,” Alex said to Campbell. “Tell him who you are.”
“Bastard.”
“He’s Don Campbell,” Alex said. “CIA in Berlin. He’s got Markovsky. He can tell you where he is.”
“That’s right,” Campbell said. “He’s dead.”
“Dead?” Markus said.
“Then what are you doing here?” Alex said. “And now you’re wasting time. In the end we’re going to find out anyway. Markus?”
Markus nodded to his partner, who stepped toward Campbell, waving him to Markus’s car.
“Meier, for chrissake-”
“Just tell him what he wants to know.” Alex faced him. “I don’t need any more cables. You’ve said everything you needed to say. You’re not useful anymore.”
Campbell’s eyes opened wide.
“Cables?” Markus said.
“Better get him out of here,” Alex said. “In case it’s a trap. Someone else waiting.”
“Trap,” Campbell said, almost spitting it. “I’m working with you,” he said to Markus. “Check with Saratov. He’s lying to you.”
“Working with me?” Markus said.
“Russian security.” He caught Alex’s eye, a second.
“With the Russians?” Alex said, sarcastic. “Don’t you think they might have mentioned that? Or did you just join up now?” He turned to Markus. “We’re wasting time.”
Markus looked from one to the other, then nodded again to his partner, who grabbed Campbell’s arm.
“You fuck,” Campbell yelled at Alex, breaking from the partner’s grip and pushing him away. He reached into his pocket, the gun out almost before the movement registered. Alex’s eyes went to the barrel, pointed at him, as he fumbled for his own. No. A deafening sound to his left, the whole square filled with it, Markus shooting, Campbell’s gun dropping out of his hand as he fell. Alex ran over. Eyes still open. Markus had shot to wound, still hoping for questions later. Alex raised his gun. No more lines to cross.
“Alex-!” Markus shouted. The partner stumbled toward them and stopped, not sure what to do.
Campbell’s eyes fluttered. “Don’t,” he said faintly, a whimper.
“You know what Willy taught me?” Alex said to Campbell. “Or was it you? No witnesses.”
His finger on the trigger, unable to move, a stopped moment. Not who I am.
“Alex-!” Markus said again.
Alex fired, the explosion filling the air around them, Campbell’s head jerking back, pieces splitting off, soft. Alex stood there shaking, his hand trembling. Not easier. Not who I am. But who I am now.
Markus was staring at him, his face moving, some storm passing over it, then still.
“The man in the English coat,” he said. “It was you. She saw you.”
Alex looked over. “Yes.”
“Then you knew-” He nodded toward Campbell.
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
Alex nodded. “To both of you.”
He turned to Markus’s partner. “Help me get him in the car. The trunk. See if there’s something we can wrap his head in. We have to get him off the street.”
Markus just stared.
“Well, you don’t want him, do you? You don’t want to go anywhere near him. Or Saratov-”
“What are you doing?”
“We were ambushed. It’s a miracle I’m alive. He went down in the line of duty. Which will make his cable even better. Coming from a hero.”
“Cable,” Markus said, still in a fog.
“Never mind,” Alex said, lifting Campbell’s feet. “Point is, you’ll need to think what to tell Saratov. If you stay.”
“He was with the Russians?” Markus said, still working it out.
Alex nodded. “So let’s explore our options. Thanks,” he said to the partner, Campbell now stowed in the trunk. “Better wait in the car.” The man looked to Markus, who nodded.
“Our options,” he said to Alex. “You lied to me.”
“Well, now I’m going to make it up to you. Let’s see how this works. You just shot a Russian agent. And you recruited an American one. Which puts you in an awkward position. No, don’t bother.” He indicated Markus’s gun. “I’m on the radio tomorrow, on tape, turning my back on the East. A real embarrassment for the SMA. Your recruit. So you’re still in an awkward position whether I’m dead or not. And Campbell here knew you recruited me-he asked for your name-so it’s probably in a Russian file somewhere. Maybe you can talk your way out of it somehow. But Saratov doesn’t look like the understanding type. So that’s option one.”