"It's not gonna be easy staying in contact, Nick. I don't have to worry about Joe and the guys, but what about you? You said you had a partner."
"Yeah. Oleg is a good partner, but I don't have the same relationship with him like you and your men. I'll have to be cautious."
"What about your intel boys? Sharp?"
Kalinin slowly shook his head. "Since all this shit happened, they're paying attention better. Which reminds me. I might stop by there tonight, and see if they've picked up any transmissions."
"Since the Team's been officially extended to continue looking for Reznikov, we'll be basing ourselves at the embassy. In case you need to make contact, I think we need to give you a code name. What about 'Cougar'?"
"Sounds good. And maybe I can get my hands on a portable radio." Kalinin stood.
Grant glanced at his submariner. "Almost 2400," he commented, as he stood. "Can we start work tomorrow?"
"Think we'd better. I've got a real uneasy feeling that something's going to happen soon."
"Well, look, Joe and I can cross into East Berlin without arousing suspicion. So, how 'bout we pick you up at 0500 tomorrow? You pick the location." With an array of passports, Grant and Adler could switch to their Russian and German ones, once they passed through the Allies' checkpoints. The risk was still enormous.
Kalinin rubbed the back of his neck in thought. "Do you know where Museum Island is? The Monbijou Bridge?"
Grant was briefly taken aback, then answered, "Uh, yeah. I do."
"There shouldn't be any traffic that time of morning. I'll meet you on the south side of the bridge."
"Listen, Nick, I asked you this already, but are you sure you want to get yourself into this?"
Kalinin nodded. "We're both doing this for the same reasons, Grant. You're damn right I do!"
"Very well. We'll be driving a black BMW. No matter what, we will be at the bridge. But if you foresee any problem, you call the embassy, and use your code name. If you don't show … "
Kalinin reached for Grant's hand. "I'll be there, my friend."
As Grant made his way back to the embassy, he wondered if it was possible to experience two surreal moments at the same time: meeting Kalinin again, and the Spree River that flowed under the Monbijou Bridge. He knew the cold Spree very well because that was where he snatched Rick Lampson. Damn!
A fog hung over the city like a thick, gray veil. Daylight was officially at 0440, but street, bus, electric trams, and vehicle low beams remained on, barely able to penetrate the heavy mist, especially along the Spree River.
Windshield wipers intermittently swished back and forth, clearing the BMW's glass. Adler guided the vehicle slowly along a quiet section of East Berlin. "Must feel strange being topside of that river," he chuckled, anticipating a less than enthusiastic response from Grant.
But Grant remained quiet, visualizing the route he took that night, swimming close to the riverbed, using the Draeger, the life and death struggle underwater.
"What? No response?"
"Huh? What'd you say, Joe?"
"Whatcha thinking?"
"Joe, have you ever wondered where Lampson is, or what he's doing? I mean, have you ever thought about anybody we've rescued, or snatched, for whatever reason?"
"Whoa! Where the hell is that coming from?!"
Grant shifted in the seat, then leaned against the door. "Well, have you?"
"Can't help it, especially when there's some kind of trigger, like the Spree or the bridge, for instance." Adler squinted, trying to see clearly out the windshield. "We're close to the bridge … I think." He shut off the fog lamps, leaving the parking lights on, as he slowed the BMW until it was barely moving.
Grant reached overhead and switched the interior light to the "off" position. "There he is."
The tall Russian walked out of the fog, then stood close to the curb. No sooner had the car stopped, when he opened the door and climbed in, tossing a small leather satchel on the seat. The sound of the door closing was Adler's signal to move on, as he flipped on the fog lamps. Tiresthumped as they rolled over a block-long section of cobblestone.
Turning down his collar, then unbuttoning his black leather jacket, Nicolai Kalinin scooted toward the middle of the bench seat, then tapped Adler's shoulder. "Good to see you, Joe!"
Adler glanced in the mirror, seeing the familiar face. "You, too, Nick!"
Grant reached around the seat with his hand extended. "Dobroye utro!"
"Yeah," Kalinin laughed, "good morning to you, too." He brushed a hand over his wet, brown hair, then leaned toward the center console, noticing the radio. "I managed to swipe a portable." He tapped a hand on the leather satchel. "Oleg has instructions to call only in an emergency."
"The Team has the same instructions," Grant said.
Adler made a right-hand turn, steering the BMW across another bridge. A car approached from the opposite direction, with its headlights barely visible in the fog. The three men went quiet, keeping their eyes on the passing vehicle. Adler glanced in the mirror, watching as red taillights disappeared.
Grant finally asked, "Where's your car?"
Kalinin motioned with his thumb. "We just passed it."
"What about your partner? Was he curious about you leaving?"
"I assigned him to search through the embassy debris. He needs to collect any sensitive data that wasn't destroyed. It should keep him occupied for a while."
"Did you find out when the other two agents will show up?"
"They'll be flying in with Director Antolov." Kalinin ducked down, and looked out the windshield. "Where are we headed? You're not kidnapping me, are you?!"
Adler kept his eyes on the road, as he snickered, "Now there's a novel idea!"
Grant cut in. "I thought we'd head down to Karlshorst. What do you think about running a G2 with men stationed at the Russian Rifle Brigade? Or has someone already done that?"
"We haven't. Oleg and I have been running our asses off here."
"Tell me about it," Adler snorted.
"We need to talk, Nick. I've got some intel on Reznikov and his men that might give us some direction."
"Where the hell did you get it?!"
"Sorry — classified. Look, we'll drive farther away from the city, then we'll go over it."
Once they were well past the Spree, the fog began to lift, changing over to a light rain. Adler shut off the fog lamps, then pressed the accelerator. The BMW picked up speed, heading toward the Russian Rifle Brigade, nearly ten miles away.
Grant turned, hooking his arm over the backrest. "What about the Stasi, Nick? Involved?"
"They're counterintelligence work is top priority, and the majority of their surveillance is on East Germans and anyone from the West. But right now they're focusing on the Border Command incident. The East Germans are in complete disarray. The Stasi will see to it that order is restored.
"But since KGB was finally given the same rights and powers as we have in Moscow, we have a broader range for investigating. So, I've been in contact with my counterpart who's assigned to the Stasi's headquarters in East Berlin. He's been able to use their intel, but even they haven't intercepted any transmissions that could remotely be from Reznikov. You know, it's almost like those three completely vanished."
Kalinin swiveled his head, looking between the side window and windshield. "Are we near the village of Lichtenberg, Joe?"
"Sign back there showed a little over a kilometer."
"Okay. Start slowing down." Adler brought the speed to 20 mph, when Kalinin said, "If you look left, down that side street… There. That entire complex is Stasi, right there," he pointed.