After he had heard from Kelley, he'd put a plan together swiftly, sending Kirchner and Schloss to the park to handle that one American who was coming back to East Berlin. Was the same fate going to befall them? A strange, chilling feeling came over him. Someone was destroying the FSG, almost systematically, ever since Brennar defected. There seemed to be a pattern. What was the name Kelley mentioned? Stevens? Yes, Stevens. Captain Stevens was the one who took Brennar back to the West. Would he be the one Kirchner and Schloss would have to confront in the park tonight?
In the distance a bell chimed. Whatever was happening at the park, he didn't have time to wait for the outcome because the military flight to Moscow was scheduled for departure from Schonefeld at 0230 hours. He'd have to depend on his men. More pressing matters were waiting for him in Moscow, the first phase of his plan to rid East Germany of Soviet control. With its success, the second phase, and in his mind, the most important phase could proceed. The people of East Germany would turn to him when they learned he was responsible for freeing them. And who knows where that will lead?
Reaching into his jacket pocket, he withdrew fraudulent military identification papers and orders signed by General Hermann Stauffenberg. The orders directed him to Moscow to attend a conference at the Kremlin, joining Stauffenberg's group. He tapped the folded papers against his chin. He thought of Fraulein Hannah Zille, who did an excellent job in getting the papers. He’d have to pay her another visit when he returned, so he could show her his gratitude again.
Hannah Zille, twenty-three years old, worked at the East German Military Command Headquarters as a file clerk. Steiner began a relationship with her five months prior to setting up the lab. Getting more heavily involved with Steiner as the months passed, and with the many promises he made her, she didn't hesitate to supply him with any information or papers he needed.
No sounds came from the bedroom as Steiner opened the door. The kerosene lamp on the kitchen table barely shed enough light into the bedroom. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he saw the two boys on one cot, the woman on the other. All were sleeping soundly. He left the door part way open then went back into the hallway.
Victor Engels and Karl Breite sat on a couple of blankets spread out near the fireplace. Breite was of medium build, in his early thirties and an expert when it came to explosives. He swallowed the last morsel of crusty bread filled with liver sausage, then licked his fingers. He glanced across the room at Steiner while he picked at his overlapping front teeth.
Engels kept his eyes on Steiner, asking, "You worried about Kirchner and Schloss?"
Steiner didn't bother answering. As he went to the closet, he rubbed his finger across his clean shaven upper lip. He'd touted a mustache for as long as he could remember, but the sacrifice had to be made. He reached up to the closet shelf and removed an East German military cap then rubbed the uniform jacket sleeve across its brim. He adjusted the cap on his head as he came back into the living room.
Engels and Breite got up off the floor. Steiner stood opposite them. He spoke with his voice lowered, looking directly at Breite. "I'm leaving it up to you to take care of them." He motioned toward the bedroom.
"You don't mean the children, too, do you?"
"We won't be able to stay here after I take care of our Moscow comrades. I'll need you and the others to be more than just watchdogs and babysitters. All of you will be disbursed to the locations we've pinpointed in the Soviet sector. Those three would just be in the way."
The idea wasn't sitting very well with Breite, and he tried protesting again. "Why don't we just take them someplace in the country and let them go?"
"Why?" An artery in Steiner's neck began to pulsate. "They can identify us, Karl. And she can bring the government or anybody else back here to the lab. We need a safe place to keep the drug until we've accomplished what we've set out to do. We still need this place."
"But if… "
As he stepped closer, Steiner reached behind his back and withdrew his Walther. Standing close enough to Breite that he could smell sausage on his breath, he ran the barrel of the gun down the side of Breite's tensed jaw. "I'm through arguing, Karl. If you can't do it, I'm sure I can find someone who can. Or maybe you're no longer capable of taking orders. Is that it?"
"All right! All right! I'll take care of it," Breite responded as he pushed the gun aside then backed away.
Steiner slowly lowered the gun then placed it back in his waistband. He continued looking at Breite as he said to Engels, "After you leave me at the airport, I want you to take a ride to Hurstengarten Park. See if you can find Kirchner and Schloss then come back here with them. We may need the extra security. Now, let's go." He stopped and turned around. "Karl, by the time Victor returns, I expect you to have completed your task." Breite nodded without responding.
Two silhouetted figures, with weapons drawn, appeared from around the west-side of the building, flattening themselves against a wall. Having spotted a sentry when the came across the vacant lot, they proceeded cautiously and inched their way toward the front doors. Grant and Adler had small batteries attached to their waistbands, each with a dangling antenna. Wires ran from the batteries up under their sweaters to throat mikes and earpieces. They wore chest vests with additional gear. Adler had a rucksack strapped to his back.
Grant led the way, stepping onto the first of two concrete steps. He edged his way toward double wooden doors. Adler hung close, watching their backs while Grant jimmied the lock. He tapped Adler's shoulder. They disappeared into the building quickly and silently.
As their eyes started adjusting to the dark, they pulled pen-like flashlights from their waistbands. The thin beams cast enough light to guide them while they climbed the ten flights. Within minutes they were on the top floor.
Walking across the squeaking, wooden floor, they aimed the flashlight beams toward a passageway at the rear of the building. Tucked in a narrow shaft were a set of steep-angled stairs that led to the roof.
Once he was on the top step, Grant reached for the doorknob. He turned the dirt-encrusted knob, finding it was unlocked but the door hardly budged. He shined the flashlight around the frame. Years of neglect left the door warped, and its hinges completely rusted. He switched off the flashlight, reattaching it to his belt. Adler aimed his light back down the stairwell, preparing for the door to open. Grant braced himself, then threw his weight into it and hammered the door with his shoulder. Begrudgingly, it gave way enough to allow them to slip through. They took short, quick strides to reach the west side of the roof. Black strips of tarpaper ran across the width of the roof, most of it ripped and shredded. Small torn pieces were caught in a ten knot wind swirling around the building.
Finally reaching the side that faced the alley, they took a quick look across at their final objective. On the opposite side about fifty feet away was an exact duplicate of the building they were on. They ducked down behind a four-foot high, cement block wall that ran around the building's perimeter.
"What the hell…?" Grant said suddenly, as a familiar noise got their immediate attention. They snapped their heads around. The sound grew louder. It was the unmistakable noise of rotor blades. A chopper was approaching from the rear. Their eyes immediately focused on a beam of light, a searchlight affixed to the outside of the cargo bay. The operator swiveled it slowly, back and forth, sweeping the surrounding grounds.