"No. We're meeting at the bridge again."
Twenty minutes later a BMW and a Volga parked across from the Monbijou Bridge. Leaving the cars separately, Grant, Adler, and Kalinin walked to the center of the bridge, then entered the Bode Museum on Museum Island.
Kalinin climbed the stairs to the balcony of the Dome, with Grant and Adler following a few seconds later. By the time they reached the balcony, Kalinin was standing in front of a glass display cabinet.
The display commemorated the fires that engulfed the 'flak bunker' in Berlin-Friedrichshain in May 1945. The bunkers were used primarily for air defense and shelters for soldiers stationed in Berlin. Of the three "towers," the most famous was the Fuhrerbunker, part of a large complex of underground bunkers built to protect the elite of the Reich. It stretched for miles under the center of the city.
Adler backed up near the corner of the glass display, keeping watch. Grant and Kalinin stood side by side, talking softly, looking at each other's reflection in the glass.
"I'm going to question Baskov," Kalinin said. "Do you have anything?"
"Intel indicates he's probably our target's contact."
"You sure?!" Kalinin asked just above a whisper.
"There's more." Grant hooked his thumbs in his jeans' pockets. "It's gonna be a bitch of a decision for you, Nick."
"I'm listening."
"He was on Gorshevsky's staff before he came to Berlin."
"Jesus!"
Grant could tell that Kalinin was shaken. "Look, Nick, I believe you'll get what you need from Baskov. What you decide to do with it, well … "
"Director Antolov. I'll have to report to him."
"If you find out where Reznikov is … "
"That's our proof."
"Affirmative. Any idea how long you'll be with Baskov?"
"Give me two hours."
"Hate to chance another phone call, though." Grant pictured the route they took. "We'll wait at the cafe one street west of Museum Island. If you don't show, we'll go back to the embassy."
As Kalinin turned to leave, he laid a hand on Grant's shoulder, nodded to Adler, then walked to the staircase. Once he was out of sight, Grant and Adler left.
Chapter 14
As they rode the elevator, Zykov asked, "Will he be well enough to answer questions?"
"I spoke with a doctor earlier. Baskov has recovered enough from his wound and concussion, and could be discharged tomorrow morning. So, yes, he will answer questions."
The two men got off the elevator, then asked directions for the ward where Baskov was being cared for. Noises echoed from gurneys being pushed along the stark corridor, along with the footsteps of the KGB agents. They stopped by the doorway. Four beds were in the room, lined up along one wall. The first had a patient. Baskov was in the third bed. His head was bandaged, his arm in a sling.
Kalinin spoke softly. "Oleg, you stay here while I question him. Keep everyone away but doctors and nurses." Zykov nodded and posted himself near the entrance.
As Kalinin walked into the ward, he mentally reviewed questions he'd ask the suspect. This might be the only chance they had for finding Reznikov — and discovering who was behind it all.
Baskov spotted Kalinin coming toward him, noticing the KGB badge hooked on his belt. While he'd been in hospital, he'd expected to be questioned, but now that the moment arrived, he began to panic. Stay calm!he said silently.
Kalinin stood at the foot of the bed, as he reached for a small recorder in his pants pocket. Locking eyes with Baskov's, he waited briefly, then asked, "Do you know why I am here?" Baskov didn't respond. Kalinin walked around the side of the bed, and pulled a chair close, but he didn't sit. Inconspicuously, he laid the recorder on the stainless steel bedside table, pressing the "on" switch. Standing close to the bed, his height alone added to the intimidation factor. Keeping his voice low, he cut right to the chase. "Tell me why you became involved with the terrorist Reznikov."
Baskov's body shuddered, his eyes went wide. He tried to deny the accusation. "I am only a driver for the embassy staff. I would not turn against the Motherland!"
"What if I told you I had proof you had a connection with a very, very high official in Moscow."
Baskov looked away, and stared up at the ceiling. His brain became like a jumbled mess, trying to determine how it was possible KGB knew.
Kalinin continued. "I know you were the handler for those terrorists, provided money, assigned their attacks. I also know you leaked the information to Reznikov's men on when and where he would be transported after the exchange at Glienicke Bridge." Kalinin smiled inwardly, noticing sweat beads forming below Baskov's bandaged head.
"Of course, you had no idea you were to become the target of an attack that same night. You are lucky to be alive, Comrade Baskov." Kalinin leaned closer. "Then again, perhaps you would have been luckier if you had died, with what I know about you." Baskov paled, but remained quiet. So Kalinin went on. "Have you heard of the East German prison near Schonefeld? I am certain you have. That was where Reznikov was held. Would you like me to tell you how they treat prisoners? Or how about KGB prison in Potsdam? Maybe I can just tell you the only way to get out of either is by death, or being shipped off to one of our gulags. Then there is Black Dolphin prison. Wherever you are sent, Comrade, I guarantee no one will attempt to rescue you."
Kalinin brought himself to his full height. "But there is a way for you to avoid most of those places." Seeing the fear in Baskov's eyes nearly weakened Kalinin's resolve to keep "pounding" away — nearly. He leaned closer again. "Confirm who you took orders from, and tell me where Reznikov and his men are hiding." Kalinin pulled back his sleeve, and tapped his watch. "You have five seconds."
Baskov squeezed his eyes shut, as an image of Reznikov and his men flashed through his mind, when he had convinced the three to become terrorists.
As Baskov started talking, Kalinin sat down. By the time he finished, Kalinin felt overwhelmed with the information revealed to him.
Silence between the two men lasted only briefly, when Kalinin shoved his chair back, palmed the recorder, and pressed the "off" switch. "You are to repeat everything you told me to Agent Zykov. Do you understand?!" Baskov's chest was heaving. All he could do was nod in response.
Kalinin felt his pulse racing as he walked toward Zykov. "Oleg, I want you to record everything he has to say — everything. He has confessed."
Zykov took a step back, slowly shaking his head in surprise. "Confessed?!"
"Yes. Tell him to begin when he was on staff at the Kremlin." Kalinin leaned toward his partner. "I am going to request that the other patient be transferred to another room. I want Baskov to feel completely alone. Wait until that happens, then you start recording. And, Oleg, whatever you hear, you will not repeat to anyone for the time being. Too much is at stake. You will soon understand."
He started to turn when Zykov grabbed his arm. "Where are you going?!"
"I have to make a couple of phone calls. When you are through, meet me at the car." He walked away. But he didn't plan on making any phone calls. He left the building, and walked, and walked, and continued walking. What he learned from Baskov shook him to his core. Everything Baskov revealed could be proved. There wasn't any doubt about it. But the responsibility for presenting the evidence to Director Antolov now rested entirely on his shoulders — him — a new KGB agent who now had it in his power to possibly bring down the Premier of the Soviet Union.
"Jesus!" he mumbled quietly, as he shoved his hands into his pants pockets. The recorder brushed against his hand. The proof, the evidence on one small tape.