"You are a snide bitch."
Her red lips played with a smile. "Your opinions don't bother me, nor do they interest me. Added to what you have seen, we can send Klauswitz back to the West in person to tell his story."
"It still wouldn't touch me."
"Perhaps not. But it would put a rather large dent in your credibility. You could, as you Americans put it, kiss politics good-bye."
Stephan Conway rubbed his temples. "What do you want?"
Anna Palmitkov passed across the same list she had presented to Ursula Rhinemann in the wee hours of that morning. Conway perused it, then slammed it on the table in disgust.
"It's treason!"
"It's business. And if you don't want to do business…"
She gathered the list and the manila folder and started to rise.
"Sit down." Conway sighed and mashed his unlit cigar into a coffee cup. "If I agree, I want more in return than this material."
"Such as…?"
"All traces eradicated."
Anna Palmitkov lit a cigarette. She inhaled deeply and let the smoke seep from her nostrils. "The man who supplied the rifle is already dead. So is the woman, Fräulein Klammer."
The Russian agent fully expected the man across from her to blanch, gasp, or otherwise show some shock at the realization of her ruthlessness.
She was totally unprepared for his own ruthlessness.
"Good. I want this Dieter Klauswitz dead as well. I want his body delivered to the West German SSD, along with another confession that it was me he was planning to kill."
"I think that can be arranged."
"It will be arranged," Conway hissed. "And that's not all. I want Ursula out of the way, and I want it to appear to be an accident."
It was the woman's turn to blink. She had been trained to forswear any emotion, to kill without question, to use her body for any reason under orders. There was literally nothing she would not do to further her cause.
Yet even she was shocked.
"That may be difficult."
"But it can be done." he countered.
"Yes, it can be done."
"I'm leaving early this afternoon for Munich. I want to be there, out of Berlin, when it happens."
"Excuse me. I must make a phone call."
Stephan Conway ordered fresh coffee and a brandy while he waited. He unwrapped a fresh cigar, and this time lit it. It was going well by the time the Russian returned.
"Well?"
"Call her. Tell her you must see her in person, but not in West Berlin. Tell her to drive through East Germany and enter the West on the Number Fifteen autobahn toward Hamburg. Tell her to leave at six this evening. Do you have that so far?"
"Of course."
"At Ludwigslust, she is to take the highway north toward Schwerin. Tell her that you will intercept her on that road. That is why her timing must be precise."
"It will look like an accident."
"It will."
Conway nodded. He even smiled. "She drives…"
"…a new 190 SL gray Mercedes convertible, license number D944-941. We are very thorough, Mr. Conway. Now, your part of the bargain."
Conway checked his watch. "I can have the order to our research facility in California within the hour. They will transfer it to our warehouse in Pennsylvania. It can be on the five o'clock flight from Dulles, Washington time."
"That means it will be here at five in the morning."
"Barring weather in Frankfurt."
"At noon tomorrow, Mr. Conway, the West German authorities will be informed to pick up the body of Dieter Klauswitz at Checkpoint Charlie."
"And the originals… the confessions and the photos?"
"Will be delivered to you in Munich as soon as the equipment is in East Berlin. I, myself, will escort the transfer."
"And if you get caught out of Frankfurt?"
"There will be someone to take my place. We will just have to try another shipment, won't we?"
This took Conway slightly by surprise, but he quickly recovered and countered by going right back on the offensive.
"I don't know who you are, but I can guess what you are: Russian, and probably KGB. Well, you know what? I don't give a rat's ass as long as I get mine. I have as much money, as much power, and as many contacts as most Third World countries."
"I am sure you do."
"Remember it. Because, when this is over, if you ever try and contact me again, I'll have you killed just like I did my wife. Only it won't be so quick and painless. And I'll do it no matter where you are, even in Moscow."
With that, he was gone.
Anna Palmitkov followed a trail of smoke down the cigarette in her hand.
The Fingers holding it were shaking.
"Herr Carter?"
"Ja." Carter recognized the voice on the phone at once, and he rolled from the bed, shaking the fog from his brain.
"Need I say who this is?"
"No. What have you got?"
"Our man was hired through Oskar Hessling. It was done by a woman who made the original contact in the U.S. But somehow I feel you already had that information, correct?"
"Yes. I was testing you."
"I respect that. The man you want was very difficult to identify since he was not a pro."
"He wasn't?"
"No. but he was extremely qualified. Pan of that bastard Hessling's genius was finding people like this."
"Who is he?"
"His name is Dieter Klauswitz."
Carter lit a cigarette and let the smoke burn his lungs as he listened to a brief history of the shooter.
"Where can I get him?" he said at last.
"I am afraid that will be difficult. Right now. Klauswitz is being held in an East German prison. He is also being closely guarded as a prisoner of the state."
"Damn."
"That is all I can tell you, Herr Carter. You mentioned you might have need of another service before our agreement was complete?"
"No… wait, maybe. Hold on!"
Carter dropped the phone. He padded to the bathroom and ran the sink full of cold water. Quickly he doused his head twice into the water to clear the cobwebs.
Risky, he thought, his brain functioning on all cylinders again, but it might provide the leverage.
"Voigt?"
"I am still here."
"I want you to kidnap a woman and hold her."
"That will take some time, surveillance, a setup…"
"I want it done sometime tonight."
"I will arrange it."
"The name is Ursula Rhinemann…"
"Ursula?"
"Yes."
"Go to the corner phone and call me."
Conway replaced the receiver on its cradle and snapped his two bulky suitcases shut. He always did his own packing. It was a fetish of his, knowing where everything was at all times, even his underwear and handkerchiefs.
He grabbed the phone on the first ring.
"It's me, what happened?"
"Listen, darling, I don't have time to tell you everything now. I must see you."
"But how? It would be too dangerous for us to be seen…"
"I don't care, Ursula, darling. I have to see you, now most of all."
"I suppose it could be just business," she said after thinking for a moment. "Should I come to the hotel?"
"No… no, I want you to drive into West Germany."
"What?"
Carefully, Conway gave her the instructions the Russian woman had given him. And then he repeated them.
"But where do I meet you?"
"Just keep driving. I will intercept you."
Sobs came over the phone. "Oh, Stephan, it's all going to catch up with us, isn't it!"
"No, no, it isn't, not if we keep our heads. Just do as I say, Ursula, and we'll be together forever… soon. And, Ursula…?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell a soul where you are going."
"I won't. Does that woman who came last night have anything to do with this?"