“It must be FedEx. Everything is prepared to link her to the CIA to take the blame for the incident. Resnick, I’m counting on you to make sure FedEx makes an on-time delivery.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
WEST BERLIN
Faith waited in the borrowed apartment in Kreuzberg with the leather bag the Stasi had passed to her less than six hours before. Every creak in the hall sounded like them checking up on her even through she was certain she had ditched her shadows. Shortly after the hand-off, a dozen of Hakan’s friends had met her with similar satchels. Everyone took off at once, overwhelming the small surveillance team. By the time Faith left, no one was around to follow her. Or at least no one from the Stasi.
Heavy footsteps came up the stairs and stopped in front of the door, then a loud knock, a familiar rhythm. She opened the door and pulled Max Summer inside and into her arms. He hugged her tightly and she winced.
“Not too tight. I’m a little fragile right now,” she said.
Tears welled up as she pressed her head against his hard chest. He dropped his gear. She didn’t realize how frightened she was until she noticed herself trembling. She let him hold her for the first time since they were to have married nearly thirteen years ago. The safety of his embrace made her crave more, but she knew better than to indulge herself. She blinked as hard as she could to push the last tears from her eyes and discreetly wiped away the traces before she moved away.
“You’re favoring your side. What happened to you?”
“I fell down.”
“You sure jumped high when I squeezed you for just falling down.”
“I fell a lot.”
“Right.” The Arkansawyer shook his head and looked her in the eyes. “Show me what you’ve got, missy.”
“You know better than to call me missy,” Faith said, waving her finger at him.
“Careful where you point that thing. Liable to go off.” He wrapped his calloused hand around her finger. “And you know how I hate explosions.”
“Like a hog hates mud.” She freed her finger and slipped her arms around him again. She felt only firm muscles. The man was in incredible condition. She immediately let go of him when she caught herself wondering how that would translate into bed. “Summer, I can’t tell you how good it is to have you here. I can’t believe it was just yesterday I called you.”
“I had the time difference going for me, and I would’ve been here faster if TWA had its act together. I don’t hear from you as much as I’d like and I’ve never known the invincible Faith Whitney to ask for my help. Soon as I hung up with you, I told my CO I’m outta here.” His light Ozark twang sounded like home. Being with Summer felt like home.
“What the hell happened to your hair?” She rubbed her hand over his bald pate.
“Hair’s a hygiene issue.”
“I admit you do look sexier this way, but I’m not sure about cleaner.” She never understood why, but bald men were an incredible turn-on. Summer wasn’t making things any easier. Faith started to drag his duffel bag into the other room, but the pain in her side stopped her. She led him into the combination living room-bedroom. He followed closely, moving into her personal space, but she didn’t mind. “Now, you promise whatever you see or discuss here stays between us.”
“Faith, have I ever let you down?”
“Never. I wish I could say the same.”
“Guess you had to do what you had to do. Now show me what you’ve got.”
“Actually, I was hoping you could tell me what it is, or at least get it open for me so I can figure it out. I think we can count on it being booby trapped.”
“Sure enough. If we didn’t assume that, I think you would’ve opened it on your own and I’d still be stateside. Now you’re gonna have to tell me everything you know about it.”
“I don’t want to drag you into this.” They walked into the tight galley kitchen.
“You drag me here all the way from the States and you don’t want to drag me into something? I’d say I’ve already been dragged. Talk to me.” His green eyes invited her.
“You really don’t want to know.”
“Probably, but I have to if I’m going to help you.”
“I got it from the Stasi.”
“Holy moly. There goes my security clearance.”
“I didn’t even think of that. I never would’ve called you if I’d real-”
“I was playing with you. Don’t worry about me. You need me right now and I’m happy to help you. Always am. Now let’s get down to work.” He set a dented aluminum case on the narrow kitchen table and flipped open the locks.
“I was warned not to open it. I have a forty-eight-hour window to deliver whatever’s inside, and the clock started running about six hours ago.”
“Doubt if there’s a timer if they gave you that long, but that doesn’t mean you’re necessarily free and clear. Since the only way out of West Berlin without going through East Germany is to fly, it’s a safe guess you’ll be taking this on a plane.”
“Definitely,” Faith said as she poured two glasses of sparkling water and added shots of a Turkish fruit syrup she found in the cupboard.
“They could’ve rigged it to blow with a barometric triggering device.”
“Wouldn’t it have to be extremely sensitive, since airplanes are pressurized?” Faith said.
“Even when a plane’s pressurized, there’s a measurable pressure change. You know how when you’re flying and you open those little creamers for your coffee and they spurt all over everywhere?” Summer inspected the bubbling purple liquid and raised an eyebrow. He took a guarded sip. “I’m not making any guesses and I don’t know what’s in there or what the East Germans are up to, but I know they’ve been involved in more than one terrorist bombing. And I wouldn’t trust a commie as far as I could throw ’em. You’re the one who follows politics, so you can make more educated guesses than I can.”
“The East Germans don’t always hang out with the best crowd,” Faith said. “They have a strong relationship with the Libyans, pretty good ties with Iraq and they’ve been buddying up with North Korea lately, since they’re so pissed at the Sovs over Gorbachev’s reforms.”
“There you go. And they’re always after the West Germans. Now all I’m saying is targeting a plane is a possibility we shouldn’t rule out.”
Faith downed the soda. “All Allied flag carriers have to fly at a max of ten thousand feet through the air corridor over East Germany, and they climb as soon as they get over West German airspace. Guess it would be simple to set something to go off then.”
“Faith, blowing up anything is easy long as you know what you’re doing. Most people don’t. No sense in speculating until we know what’s inside. It’s not as easy to bring down a plane as you’d think. It’s like any demolition job. You have to know exactly where to plant it so the blast wave does optimal damage. I’ve read in the Times the FBI thinks the terrorists got lucky with 103 because the blast wasn’t that strong. The suitcase with the bomb happened to get in a container loaded at just the right point in the airframe. If a baggage handler had thrown it into a different container or had loaded the containers in a different order, it would’ve still ripped a hole in the plane, but probably wouldn’t have resulted in catastrophic structural failure. So the East Germans would be kind of stupid and careless to depend on wherever your suitcase got packed. From what you’ve told me, they have direct access to West Berlin and could mount a bomb wherever they wanted. I only brought it up to mention one of the things we’re going to look out for. We’re also going to check if there’s a light sensor or motion sensor that would set it off when we open it. So I need to know what you think we’re dealing with.”
“My best guess, some sophisticated electronic device booby trapped with plastic explosives, or it could be just Semtex booby trapped with more Semtex.”