“It was built before the division, and it’s not like Berlin was divided on a perfect north-south axis. When they put the Wall up, they boarded up the stations on those lines. You can see them when you ride those lines. They look like they haven’t changed-or been cleaned for that matter-since sixty-one. I’ve actually seen guards there, sleeping on the benches with machine guns on their laps. Anyway, they can reopen the stations, commandeer U-Bahn cars and send in advance troops posing as civilians.”
“How do you think the Americans would respond militarily?” Zara said.
“We won’t give up Berlin,” Summer said. “No way. Not even a Democrat in the White House would do that. I don’t know the defense plans, but I think you know as well as I do they’ll punch through the corridors, and they’re not going to stay in a neat little convoy on the Autobahn. They’ll fan out.”
“As soon as the Americans stray from the established corridors, the Warsaw Treaty takes effect and the WTO states will respond.” Zara retrieved fresh ammunition from the glove compartment.
“I’ve heard rumors the plans call for the use of tac nukes, and I’d expect it,” Summer said.
“As in tactical nuclear weapons?” Faith said.
“Afraid so.”
“If we can get word out to the Americans,” Faith said, “they can at least put the Allies on alert and mobilize the West Berlin police. They’re trained as paramilitaries for just such a possibility, since the West Germans aren’t allowed to station troops in the city. They also have channels-military attachés and the like-to alert the Soviets to rein in their dogs. With Soviet opposition, the East Germans would stand down.”
“You agree, comrade?”
“The East German regime cannot survive without our backing.” Zara slid a fresh magazine into her gun.
“Then we have to figure out a way to warn them. Any ideas? I take it phone calls aren’t an option-not even to the embassy?” Summer said, his voice tailing off as the first set of headlights appeared ahead of them. He put both hands on the wheel and scoped out the nearby terrain. The ditch looked shallow, but the car would never make it through the muddy field. Whatever happened, they would have to stay on the road. The car dimmed its lights and slowed down. Summer set the gun on his lap. After a few long moments, the car passed them, its taillights disappearing in the rearview mirror.
“My nerves are shot. I was sure that car was going to come after us,” Faith said with a sigh.
“It’s not a bad idea to stay alert,” Summer said, returning the gun to the seat beside him.
Zara picked it up and exchanged magazines. “To answer your earlier question, we couldn’t get a line to the West. You have to order the call well in advance, and I seriously doubt you would get one to the European Command or NATO or any military installation, for that matter. You could probably get through to the American embassy, but it would be monitored.”
“I don’t think that’s much of an option,” Faith said, “even if we got through to the political attaché, or, better yet, the economic liaison-isn’t that usually the cover for the CIA station chief?”
“One or the other.” Zara nodded.
“So even if we got through to someone who counts,” Faith continued, “we’d have a hard time getting them to believe us. Let’s say we made it over those hurdles. It’ll go from there to the State Department; they’ll deliberate over it for a while and if they deem it credible, they’ll reluctantly pass it on to the CIA. After the CIA does its bureaucratic number, they’ll go to either the White House or Defense Intelligence Agency, most likely the former. By the time the governmental bureaucracy gets through with the information, the East Germans will be in Bonn. The problem is getting it into the right channel. Frankly, I think our best bet is the media. The whole world monitors CNN. If we could get to their Moscow bureau-”
“We might be able to warn the Allies and even Gorbachev,” Summer said. “Their offices can’t be heavily guarded.”
“They’re not. They’re in a building designated for foreign businesses with one or two guards posted there to keep Soviet citizens out and to monitor who’s coming and going. Of course, the offices are under electronic surveillance, though I doubt anyone’s listening at this hour. It’s probably only taped and archived, but they might go live if the guard gets suspicious. We’ll have to be fast. But one last detaiclass="underline" Why would anyone be at the CNN offices at this hour?”
“Depends on what time it is in Atlanta, I’d bet. What’s the time difference to the East Coast?” Summer said.
“I think it’s seven hours right now,” Faith said. “Which makes it a little before five in the afternoon in the non-Soviet Georgia.”
CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
INSIDE THE MOSCOW RING ROAD
12:07 A.M.
Faith had almost dozed off in the backseat when Zara directed Summer into an alley a couple of blocks away from the foreigners’ compound housing the Moscow CNN bureau. Zara pulled on her blouse, slowly easing the fabric over the bandaged wound. She buttoned it and handed Summer the pistol with the silencer. “I’m not bad with my left hand, but I’m going to give this to you anyway. If the sentry gets suspicious, you know what to do. Since you won’t understand the conversation, I’ll lean back to signal you to take care of him.”
“I’ll understand the body language. Hey, where’d we pick up the new toy with the silencer?”
“Kosyk. But keep in mind it’s a Czech-made CZ-52, so Makarov magazines won’t fit it. We also picked up his shoulder holster.” Zara handed Faith the Makarov Summer had used at the dacha. “And we now have enough to go around.”
“No, thanks. I’ve done enough damage for one night,” Faith said.
“Take it, Faith. You never know.” Summer took the shoulder holster from Zara’s lap. “You don’t mind, do you? I can put it under my jacket, and I don’t think it’d feel real good on you right now.”
Summer stepped out of the car and circled it while Zara slid across the seat. Faith helped her into her uniform jacket. Zara drove to the compound and pulled up to the guardhouse.
“Good evening. Papers.” The guard spit out the words, his breath reeking of alcohol.
“Komitet.” She held up her identification.
The guard closed his eyes and motioned with a nod for them to proceed.
The door of the building was open. They found no building directory, so they searched the halls until they came upon a white door on the third floor with the familiar red CNN logo. Summer reached for the latch, but it was locked. He knocked and they waited. Faith wiped a smear of shoe polish off Summer’s face. He tried again and eyed the security lock, probably imported from the West.
“Can’t we take it off?” Faith pointed to the hinges on the outside of the door.
“True Soviet workmanship,” Zara said. “They’re probably not allowed to change anything outside the unit.”
Summer pulled the Leatherman from his pocket and selected the appropriate tool. In less than a minute, he removed the door and Faith helped him lower it to the floor. He unlocked it and hung it back.
Zara led the way into the empty CNN bureau, holding a flashlight. The office looked like it had been imported as a package from West Germany. The walls, chairs, desks, sofa and tables were clinical-white and spotless. Modern halogen lights sat on each desk. Everything was carefully arranged either parallel or perpendicular to the walls.
They searched the offices for the studio.
“No wonder they’re not working late. Looks like they have too much time on their hands,” Faith said, looking at a bookshelf with each section of books fastidiously arranged by size.
“We do put excessive restrictions on them so they don’t go snooping around too much,” Zara said.