Beth tapped David's hand. “I'm tired of being shot at. I want to learn how to shoot back.”
David's eyes studied hers. Was he considering if she were serious? “Amateurs with guns are dangerous.”
Beth glanced at her hands clasped in her lap. “Amateurs without guns can be in danger if someone's shooting at them.”
A swell of singing washed over the room. A German drinking song, the words unintelligible to Beth, roared from a nearby table. Conversation was hopeless. David drank his beer in large gulps, then signaled for her to rise.
The respite was over.
**
The taxi dropped them off in front of the massive limestone structure that was the Haus der Kunst — the House of Art museum. The 20 columns of the verandah rose above them.
“The thing is to keep ourselves among people so the opposition can't take potshots at us, but not so many people that they can use the crowd as cover.”
Beth nodded. This was basic tradecraft that even she knew.
“So we're going to look at paintings.”
“Yes. Did you know that after World War II the Haus der Kunst …”
“… was used as the American Army Officers Club? Yes, I did. Stephen told me.”
David nodded. “I'm sorry. I keep forgetting you lived here.”
“A long time ago, a very long time ago.”
David took her hand, propelling her up the steps. After paying for their admission tickets, he led her into the west wing where the Neue Pinakothek and the Neue Staatsgalerie works were permanently displayed.
“The Neue Pinakothek has pictures and sculptures from the late 18th and the 19th centuries by more than 500 artists,” David said.
“What are you, a museum docent?”
“Just getting into the act.” He turned her into another gallery.
“Now the Neue Staatsgalerie has pictures and sculptures of later periods.”
“Thank you very much. I can recognize Impressionist paintings all by myself. In fact, that's one of my favorite Cezanne …”
David grabbed her hand with such force that the word paintings strangled in her throat. He yanked her against his chest and leaned his head close to her ear.
“I'm checking out the terrain,” he said.
“You're standing on my foot!”
David removed his foot. “Stay right here and don't wander off. I have to see a man about a dog.”
“You're going to leave me? Leave me vulnerable to being shot or abducted or killed? Or am I being set up as a pigeon?”
“No to all of the above. I'm just going over there to check out another picture. And the man standing there is going to tell me something I need to know.”
Beth checked the direction David indicated. An older German man appeared absorbed in the study of a Gauguin.
David released her and walked over to the Gauguin. She whirled back to admire the Cezanne. Two could play at this game.
Within moments David returned. “I knew I recognized that painting. It was one of my mother's favorites.”
“You had a mother?”
**
Beth checked out the trendy merchandise in the store windows as they walked down Leopoldstrasse, the main thoroughfare of the artists and nightlife district called Schwabing. It had been here that Beth had studied German for foreigners at Ludwig-Maximilian University. She'd had eclectic classmates, including one refugee from the spontaneous closings of universities in chaotic Italy, an Israeli couple fresh from military service, a Turkish woman whose husband worked at the American army kaserne garage, and a young man who appeared to be from Communist China (although Beth was never quite sure if that were possible). She had actually learned basic German because she had to — no English was spoken in the class although it was beginning German.
On the sidewalk a clump of people passed them. David took her elbow. “How come you never remarried after your husband's death?”
“How do you know I never remarried?”
He hesitated. “You have that look about you — unloved.”
“Unloved! I have lots of friends, besides relatives, who care for me.”
“You're missing that glow.”
“Are you talking about sex?”
He didn't answer.
“Where are your wife and kids?”
“I've never found the time. The needs of the service come first.” David steered her around a runaway cafe chair plunked in their path.
“You still haven't answered my question,” he said. “Why didn't you remarry?”
Beth hesitated, then decided it was best to get this over with quickly. “I … I couldn't. I was afraid to love someone that much and risk losing him again. Every time I started getting close to someone I was dating, I found a reason to break it off.”
David propelled her forward, a submarine forging a path through rough seas. “You were right,” he said. “That bomb in the Frankfurt Officers Club was meant for someone specific.”
Her scalp's beating escalated. “How do you know?”
“It was meant for me.”
Beth's feet stopped. She was a statue, Lot's wife turned to stone. Someone shoved her from behind, yelled something nasty in German. David drew her off to one side, out of the pedestrian stream.
Her mouth unglued. “What do you mean?”
“I was investigating an agent of ours suspected of being a double agent for the East Germans. I was getting close. I got a warning note, but it was a riddle.”
He took her arm, pulling her with him to start walking again. “I was never very good at riddles. I didn't figure it out until it was too late.”
“Why weren't you killed?”
“Timing. Probably the one time in German history that a German train was late. I got to the club moments after the bomb went off.”
Beth's entire head pounded, the anger flashing rainbow lines through her vision. “You're responsible for my husband's death! You're responsible for my miserable life!”
She exploded, swinging her right arm in a punch to David's face. He blocked her punch and grabbed both her arms, pinning them to her sides.
“Look, I'm sorry. I was sent underground after that and the trail got cold. I never found the guys I was after — the guys who killed your husband.”
Tears welled in her eyes. David let go of her arms and hugged her to him. She pulled back and slapped him across the face.
“You son of a bitch! Is this your idea of a joke?”
David grabbed her arms again. Pedestrians streamed around their island, yelling at them to get of the way.
“I swear it's true. And I swear I've never stopped looking for those guys. That's why I met up with you. I'm on to something — and that something seems to have you in the middle of it.”
Beth shook her head, her arms still imprisoned. “After all these years you think you'll find the killers?”
“You don't know the East Germans — former East Germans. They have long memories — and long agendas. Some of them are still around — and I think they're up to some of their old tricks.”
Beth's knees buckled. David's grip prevented her from collapsing. This was too much. All too much.
“Come on,” he said. “If you promise not to hit me again, I'll buy you a coffee.”
**
Beth gulped her coffee. A mistake. The liquid burned the back of her throat. She chocked back a cough, not anxious to draw attention to their table.
“Did you like working for Jack Lockheim at the 66th?” David said.
“I liked Jack. The work was boring, just typing secret reports that were sent on to you guys. At least Stephen got to analyze the humint his office received.”
“You remember the word humint?”
“Actually George or Charles mentioned it at Langley. I'm not sure I would have remembered it otherwise.”
Beth took a cautious sip. Much better. “You know, I always thought Jack Lockheim looked as German as the native Muencheners. That man over there r
eminds me of an older version of Jack.”
David twisted to glance over his shoulder. “Jack died a couple of years ago.”
“That's what George told me.” Although anything that George, David, Kathleen or the rest of the CIA spooks said to her was suspect.
David flashed her a smile. “Feeling better?'
Beth smiled back. “Practice on a 9mm would do a lot to brighten my day.”
**
Beth smiled again when David pulled off the autobahn. He had somehow conjured up a car a block from where they had coffee. He had just walked up to the car, put the key in the lock, and they had a car.
She guessed that this was probably why in the first place they had coffee at that particular cafe. But she didn't ask David. She didn't want to hear again that it was strictly a “need to know” operation.
David had chosen a field of clover with a solitary tree. When they stopped several feet from the tree, he pulled out his gun.
“Stand like this,” he said as he demonstrated, “and aim at the tree and pull the trigger.”
He handed her the gun and she tried to emulate how he had stood.
“Release the safety,” he said, indicating where it was. “Now shoot.”
She aimed and pulled the trigger twice.
She watched both shots go wide of the tree, but not so very wide.
David laughed. “You're pretty good for a beginner.”
“Maybe all that focusing I do in karate is paying off.”
“Put the safety back on and hand me the gun,” he said. Then he demonstrated how to aim along the sight.
Beth took back the gun, released the safety once more, and tried two more shots.
“Better,” he said. “Keep going.”
The sudden click on an empty chamber reminded Beth that the supply of ammunition was not infinite. She looked at David.
“That's enough for the first time. I want to get to the safe house before dark.”
David took the empty gun from here, reloaded it, and put it back in his shoulder holster.
Beth tried to keep up with his long strides back to the car. “Where's my gun?” she asked.
David twisted his head to look at her as she lagged behind. “I said you were pretty good for a beginner. You're not good enough to have a gun yet.”
Beth thought of all the retorts she could make. But what would even the best retort get her?
**
The fading light prevented Beth from a clear view of the road winding up a steep incline. Only when David drove around the last curve could she see the ski chalet.
David stopped but didn't get out of the car. Beth watched him sit silently as if waiting for instructions from above.
“Did our diversion work? We haven't been attacked or shot since the English Gardens,” she said.
David shrugged in response and motioned her to get out of the car. She grabbed her backpack as he unlocked the door.
Once inside, she opened each inner door until she found the bathroom. She used the facilities and then returned to the living room, where she found David lighting wood in the fireplace.
“What is this place?” Beth asked.
David turned around to look at her. “It was an intimate getaway for a Nazi general and his mistress. After the war the American army used it as part of the recreational hotel accommodations for army personnel. We recently took it over.”
Beth nodded. “As long as the shower works I'll be happy.”
Without replying David walked towards the bathroom.
The moment he was out of sight Beth picked up the backpack David had acquired at CIA headquarters in Munich. This was the first time she had been alone with it and she wanted to make good use of this time.
After unzipping the main section, Beth stuck her right hand inside. The first thing she felt appeared to be a flashlight, so she dug deeper. Her hands closed around foil packages. What could these be?
She pulled them out of the bag — individually packaged condoms! — just as David walked back into the room.
She spun around to face him. “Condoms? You have condoms in your backpack?”
David flung himself onto the sofa. “Do you have a problem with that? I like to be prepared.”
Beth thrust them back into the backpack and, unzipped, flung it at David.
“Prepared? You think you can drop in anywhere and get lucky — or do you have a girlfriend — everywhere?”
David smiled. “Depends on the time of year.”
How infuriating! “It amazes me how all men are the same. Their minds get stuck below their belts.”
David motioned her to sit down on the sofa next to him. “Give up your martyrdom. Live a little.”
Beth remained standing. “You're probably planning your next conquest right now. What's her name?”
David's eyes bored into her. “If I said you, what would you say?”
Beth flopped down on the armchair furthest from the sofa. “I'll never sleep with you.”
David didn't answer at first — he appeared to be concentrating on something else.
“You may have to eat your words sooner than you think,” he said.
“What are you talking about?”
David stood up, strode over to her and jerked her up.
“Hear that car noise outside? We have visitors.”
“Isn't it Rodney?”
David shook his head. “He's supposed to signal first with his headlights. So this means we have uninvited guests.”
Beth grabbed her own backpack as David glanced around the room, then reached into his backpack.
“We need to create a little illusion — romantic illusion. I'll just open these condoms — leave the empty packages on the floor. Our uninvited guests will think we're taking a walk — afterwards.”
“What a terrible plan!” she said.
“Have a better one?”
David dropped the condom packages in front of the fireplace, then slung his backpack on and with one hand propelled Beth towards a large wooden armoire — what the Germans called a schrank she knew.
David yanked open the double doors and pushed Beth into the schrank, shining his flashlight towards the back of the schrank.
“Can you feel rungs of a ladder there?” he asked.
Beth nodded — her voice had vanished.
“Climb down.”
As she put one step below the other, she felt David crushed behind her as he closed the schrank doors.
She climbed down as quickly as she could with David right behind her. At the foot of the ladder he shined his flashlight down what appeared to be a tunnel and motioned for her to now follow him.
“What is this?” Beth whispered, thankful her voice had at least somewhat returned.
David leaned closer to her. “The system of tunnels connecting Hitler's underground bunkers. Berchtesgaden was his favorite retreat.”
Beth knew about Eagle's Nest high above Berchtesgaden, a gift from one of Hitler's top henchmen. She and Stephen had visited Eagle's Nest when they were stationed in Munich. Perhaps she had even known about the tunnels, although she couldn't remember now.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To one of those bunkers.”
Beth stumbled over something and David pulled up on her arm to keep her from falling.
When she had recovered her balance she asked, “Don't the bad guys know the same places?”
“Maybe, maybe not. We left a misleading trail, remember?”
Beth clamped down on her lips to keep from shouting. When she had control of her voice level she said, “If this wasn't so ridiculous, I'd be laughing.”
Moments later she followed David into what was presumably a bunker. His flashlight showed bare walls and a dirt floor.
He landed her the flashlight and told her to shine it on his backpack, from which he took a miniature portable lantern and set it up on the floor of the bunker. He took back the flashlight and turned it off.
�
�We'll have to spend the night here. In the morning I should be able to find our way out.”
Beth opened her mouth, closed her mouth, then finally said, “Sleep here?”
David opened two packets he had removed from his backpack. As he removed the contents she could tell at least they weren't more condoms.
“These emergency blankets are nifty. But we only have two. We can each curl up in one. Or we can place on the ground and share the other one as a blanket. It will be more comfortable the second way.”
Beth nodded her okay to the second choice, but a suspicion crossed her mind.
“Did you really hear a noise?”
David didn't answer he; he simply spread the first blanket on the ground. “After you,” he said.
Beth was at least thankful she had used the toilet facilities right before playing this hide-and-seek game. She stretched out on the blanket but kept her shoes on.
David stretched out next to her and spread the other blanket on top of them. He bunched up her backpack and put it under her head. Then he did the same with his backpack under his head.
“Wait a minute,” Beth said. “You don't have dinner in your survival kit?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Only room for the most essential equipment.”
Beth rolled onto her side facing away from David. She hoped her stomach wouldn't growl.
The lantern flickered off.
For a moment she felt something brush her check. Was it a bug? Or had David brushed his hand against her?
Beth closed her eyes but she didn't expect to drop off to sleep. Regardless of what she thought of David Ward, this was the first time she'd been in bed with a man since …
Yes, she realized she wasn't really in bed with someone. It was simply that … simply that she was in Germany. And Germany was the last place she had ever …
“Are you cold?” he asked.
“What?” It took a second for Beth to realize who was speaking. She had been thinking … thinking about something that could never again be.
“Are you cold?” David repeated.
For answer Beth sat up and turned the lantern back on.
“Tell me a story,” she said. “About one of your operations. The unclassified bits.”
CIA Fall Guy: A Spy Thriller Page 9