The Helsinki Pact

by Alex Cugia

  He thought back to his part in Dieter’s recent assassination and how his partner there had double crossed him at the last moment although Hanno been the first to shoot immediately after Dieter opened the door. Sponden’s orders had been clear – he’d wanted Dieter dead and whoever achieved that would get a bonus of fifty thousand DM on top of the base fee of sixty thousand to each of them. He’d fired twice and as Dieter lay on the floor knelt, put his pistol to the jerking head and fired again, stilling it. As he stood up his companion had fired four times into the now lifeless body, smiled at Hanno and remarked “Guess we’ll just have to share the bonus, eh? Let's have a look round and see if there's anything interesting hidden here.”

  At least this time there was no one to cut him out. He’d had some initial qualms about killing Dieter but it was clear Dieter was on the wrong side and had to go whereas someone like Sponden would certainly survive. This was no time for personal loyalties or for remembering past debts. It was important to be alert and to stake out one’s position in the exciting new era which would open up after unification.

  Bettina and Thomas were marked too, it seemed. He'd glanced through the files he'd found hidden in Dieter's house, taking the trouble to copy them before passing them on to Sponden. Their contents didn't particularly surprise him although learning why Bettina had become an agent and how Thomas had been blackmailed was interesting information he filed away mentally. He'd had a suspicion of the real reason for their mission in Dresden and the files confirmed what Dieter had asked them to investigate and therefore how dangerous both Bettina and Thomas now were.

  He didn't care about Thomas in the least but he'd need to steel himself to despatch Bettina. The trick was removing any friendly connection between them. He'd shown that he could shoot a man as easily as a surplus horse; well then, what was difficult about dealing similarly with a woman? Dieter had been an enemy and Bettina's loyalty to Dieter, as well as what she had now probably discovered, condemned her. That they'd they'd been friendly once, close even, was irrelevant. He mustn't think about earlier friendships; she was worthless, an enemy like Dieter.

  There was also that time in Poland when he'd proposed seriously to her and she'd laughed at him, startled, even though she was kind to him as well. That she didn't respond to him rankled and was something he could never forgive. So, yes, he would first take what she'd denied him in Poland and then kill her as her kind deserved. The thought both excited and angered him. He banged hard on the door again then reached inside his belt and eased his underwear as he thought of the coming meeting. "I could shoot her at the very instant!" he thought. "A double climax."

  He smiled as he remembered how Dieter had asked him to investigate in the utmost secrecy who within the Stasi was connected with Phoenix. "Interesting." Sponden had said when he'd told him. "Let's give him a few names - you can feed them slowly to him. That'll give him something to think about."

  "Bohm", Hanno had said first of all, "and that KGB guy, Putin, too I think. He's playing a very devious game." Dieter had looked hard at him and he'd been tempted to say "Mielke" to see what effect that produced but he'd left it and now, carrying out Sponden's orders, it was too late, which was a shame he thought.

  He heard the sound of the old woman dragging herself back to the door, announcing her return with her gun, and immediately raced to his car, several streets away. He opened the boot, scrabbling around until he found the large lump of metal he kept there to smack the bar when undoing tight wheel nuts and from the tool kit he picked out a screwdriver and a tyre lever. He slammed the boot lid shut, grabbed his own gun from the glove compartment, and raced back.

  "Stand back from the door!" he shouted, placing the blade of the screwdriver in the gap of the door at the level of the lock and smashed at the haft with the weight, cursing as the wooden handle of the screwdriver split in two and fell off. At least there was now a larger gap into which he was able to fit one end of the tyre lever. With two or three blows the lock was pushed back off the screws holding it and a swift wrench with the lever freed the door completely. He burst in, pointing his gun at Frau Schwinewitz and showing her his badge with his left hand.

  “Where is she? What about the roof? Is that a possible escape route here?”

  Frau Schwinewitz pointed up the stairs. “There’s two of them there. Mr Room ..., Room ... ." She ferreted around, deep in her mind trying to dredge up memories. "Room ... , Rumpel, yes, that's who it is. Rumpel!" She was silent, looking at nothing, blinking her eyes. There was something she knew she should know but couldn't remember. Hanno grabbed her by the arm and shook her hard. "Mr Rumpel. Yes, and his girlfriend. They're both there."

  Hanno had bounded to the first half landing before she’d finished speaking, exulting at the thought of a double bounty if he found Thomas as well. And if Thomas wasn’t there he would return and so it was just a case of waiting for him. Things were turning out well! He raced up the stairs then crept quietly up the last flight, gun in hand, and listened at the door. There was a very faint whirring noise with an occasional squeak which he couldn't identify but otherwise silence. He listened again then moved back the width of the landing and launched himself hard at the door, planting his boot on the mortice lock which gave with a sharp crack, the lower part of the door splitting away. With his shoulder he smashed open the upper part and stumbled in to the room, gun ready.

  A large TEAC recorder, reel was still turning, was the first thing he noticed.almost the only sign that the apartment had been used. He looked for a moment at the three dirty cups by the sink, one of them slightly warm, and wondered what that might mean. Why three? He'd need to remain particularly alert, he thought. But the few rooms and cupboards were empty of anyone and there was no trace of an attic entrance. He stood on the small balcony and looked down. It was clearly impossible for Bettina to have jumped down without killing herself. Climbing down might just have been possible but would have been very difficult and in any case there was no obvious exit from the internal courtyard except back into the building. He leant as far out as he could from the balcony and looked up but the roof was a good five or six metres above it and it looked impossible to reach. It was obvious no one could be there.

  In the hallway Frau Schwinewitz was waiting patiently and as she stood there scraps of memory floated into her consciousness. There had been something earlier, something similar which had damaged her, given her this limp, something in this building. There had been a chase. A woman. Rumpel, perhaps, and another man. No, two men and she’d been attacked. There was something else. Something important but she couldn’t remember. Darkness and pain.

  “The apartment’s empty. No one is there. She's hiding in one of the others. We’ll search them all. Get your keys.”

  Obediently Frau Schwinewitz began her dragging shuffle back to her apartment and then stopped, turning slowly to face Hanno, struggling to put scraps of memory into order.

  “The basement. They’ve dug a hole. A tunnel. That bastard. And his girlfriend. She's not always here but I saw her today. Going out. Rumpel. That's the bastard that did this to me." Her face crumpled, she beat with a withered hand at her useless leg and then screamed suddenly and loudly, high and keening, startling Hanno as the echoes reverberated round the hall.

  She shuffled over to the grey door leading to the basement, took out her small bunch of keys and tried to open it, then pushed feebly against it. She battered her fists on the door, her fury returning. “That’s where they are. I remember now.” She screamed again. "I remember. The tunnel."

  Again Hanno smashed at the door with his shoulder, this time nearly tumbling down the steps as it suddenly cracked open.

  Frau Schwinewitz pointed into the darkess. “Go there, all the steps, right to the bottom. Follow the main corridor. Go right to the end. It’s the last door. I remember now. I remember!” She shook her head like a bull, dart-struck in the neck, unable to raise its head, groaning with impotent rage. "Now I remember! The last door. Right at the end.
" she screamed, flailing her leg with her arm as she turned and dragged her body back to her apartment.

  Chapter 47

  Sunday January 21 1990, evening

  HANNO ran quickly down the stairs, snapping on lights as he went. Reaching the basement he switched on the corridor light and moved cautiously, gun at the ready, alert for the slightest sound or movement. His heart hammered and he stopped for a moment to breathe deeply and calm himself. There was no trace of Bettina, no sound, no movement of any kind. This wasn’t how it was meant to happen. But she had to be there and he would get her. He was certain of that.

  When he reached the last door he listened carefully but heard nothing from the other side. He shot three bullets from his silenced gun through the wood at different positions in case she was hiding behind the door but there was still silence after the echoes faded. The door was locked but he dealt easily with that, bursting it open with a couple of well-positioned kicks and stumbling into the room.

  He stared in amazement at the scene. Near one wall he saw a large hole, a tunnel leading into darkness. Dirt was piled high, sometimes to the ceiling, and scattered in ridges and piles over the floor. There were tracks around the hole, well defined and some looking new, the footprints revealing slight damp where the earth had been disturbed.

  He crouched and looked closely at the marks, confirming his initial glance suggesting that there were two distinct sets of footprints, each a different size. A wave of excitement hit him and he laughed at the realisation that he’d trapped them both. Cautiously he examined the entrance then leant down into the hole, flashing his torch to light up the empty tunnel. Again there was silence but a few moments later he heard a faint, distant rumble and the slight singing sound of metal on metal. He dropped into the hole, bent over and hurried off to track and catch his prey.

  At the end of the tunnel he found the hole in the bricks and, looking through, saw the gravel-strewn area below. Flashing his torch in the cavern he caught a glint of rails and picked out the tiles lining the walls opposite and a little distance away. He wriggled through the gap, lowered himself as the others had before him, and dropped lightly on to the gravel, swinging round and instantly ready in case of attack. "Where the hell am I" he wondered "and what's this tunnel? What are these rails?" He shivered in the damp air and tried to make sense of things and work out which way to move. So much for his earlier excitement, he thought, this was going to be harder than he’d expected. Still, if he was careful he would probably take them by surprise.

  He stood in the darkness shining his torch around, trying to make sense of the situation and find clues as to the direction in which they might have gone. Then he felt a slight waft of air on his face and heard again that far-off rumble and singing, the noise growing louder until a train appeared round a bend and he realised he'd stumbled into some part of the metro. The brickwork of the tunnel was now lit up and beyond and to his right he picked out the platform of what looked like an abandoned station, its tiled walls now clearly visible. He read the name ‘Leinestraße’ on the train's illuminated destination indicators as it came towards him, before it roared off and left him again in darkness.

  "Of course!" he thought "This is the bit that crosses the border." and he tried to remember what he'd earlier heard about this closed loop and the abandoned stations.

  Towards Leinestrasse was going to be the quickest way to West Berlin, he reasoned, and if Bettina and Thomas knew what they were doing they’d almost certainly have gone that way. But what if they hadn't, what if they'd researched this hidden part of the line and knew something he didn't. He dredged up from his memory what he could about the loop, deciding that the other direction definitely went deeper into East Berlin, at least for several stations. So even if they had gone that way and he went the other he could most likely get out at the first station he came to and get colleagues to guard the various exits and arrest the pair when they emerged. He would regret not being able to toy with and enjoy Bettina before killing her but he couldn't risk letting them get away. He set off after the train, running lightly between the steel rails.

  As the sound of the approaching train grew behind them Thomas and Bettina were still short of the first station, Jannowitzbrücke. They were running as fast as they could, but they had only one small torch, already in Thomas's rucksack, and the lack of light was a major handicap. He cursed himself for forgetting the bigger and stronger one he'd left on the table in the apartment. At one point he misjudged his footing, stumbled and crashed to the ground, barking his shin badly as he hit a tie securing the rails. Moments later, as they rounded a bend, there was a slight lightening of the gloom and they could see the start of the station looming out of the darkness a few metres ahead. Thomas scrambled up, reached out a hand and helped to pull Bettina on to the platform. Less than thirty seconds later the train passed slowly in front of them, its headlight opening up the station’s shadows and its passengers brightly visible, sitting in their seats reading and staring and talking, oblivious to the fugitives lying a metre or two away. Bettina stared around in wonder.

  For a moment, Thomas considered shooting to try to stop the train but realised the driver would in all likelihood accelerate and call the police for help. Once the train had passed, they dropped back down on the tracks and again started running. After a few steps, however, Thomas had stopped and caught Bettina by the shoulder, gesturing to her to wait. The sound of the nearby train was still in their ears, dying away in front of them, but from the other direction came the faint, steady pad of footsteps and occasionally a sharp clink, the sounds amplified and sharpened by the hard walls and contained by the tunnel.

  “Shh! Someone’s coming. Listen!” For a moment they stood, silent and increasingly afraid, then Thomas whispered again.

  “Shit! It must be Hanno. At least it sounds like only one person.”

  Gripping their guns they set off again, moving deeper into the tunnel, trying to juggle speed with silence but realising that it was impossible for Hanno not to hear them while they were moving.

  The footsteps behind them were growing louder and a few moments later changed in character and they realised that Hanno had reached the station and was rapidly catching them up although it was difficult to judge just how close he really was. At one point there was a brief flash of light behind them. The sounds echoed down the long tunnels, the echoes changing as the configuration of the tunnels changed, but it seemed likely that he was now no more than maybe four or five hundred metres away. At their respective speeds, and particularly in the faint light they had to rely on, they had no chance of making the next station before he was on to them. It was better to turn and face him, to try to hide their presence, to avoid the noise of running and perhaps take him by surprise. There were, after all, two of them and if they separated Hanno would be unable to deal with them simultaneously.

  “There’s another bend just ahead. Maybe the tunnel will widen a bit or there might be alcoves. You keep on this side and I’ll cross over. Run for two hundred steps and then get as close to the wall as you can. If you see him, or he sees you, shoot. I’ll do the same.”

  Thomas brushed his hand down Bettina’s cheek and across her lips, pushed her lightly forward, crossed quickly to the far wall and then ran as silently as he could manage round the corner and along the following straight.

  Behind them, and despite their care, Hanno heard their steps and smiled to himself. He’d chosen the right direction and his luck was still with him. There were no witnesses here so he could kill them both and run no risk of a police investigation. He'd kill Thomas first, he thought, and then play with Bettina. Or, no, perhaps he'd incapacitate Thomas, let him watch beyond endurance and then finish him off once he'd finished with Bettina. He’d let Sponden know discreetly of the execution, to be praised and rewarded in turn. He reloaded his gun and set off at a steady pace, fast enough to be certain of catching them up but one which allowed him to move more quietly so that he might take them by surprise.
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br />   As Thomas and Bettina stood opposite each other they realised that the sound of the following footsteps had gone. The silence continued and with it their nervousness grew. They didn’t dare whisper across the space and in their isolation their fear grew and the sweat broke out on their foreheads as they waited for something to happen.

  Then Thomas felt something, a mere sensation, an intuition rather than anything approaching a certainty, as if air were moving through the tunnel towards him but without the force, and certainly without the vibration or noise of an approaching train. Perhaps, he thought, it was an unreliable feeling deriving from the intense tension of their situation but as his nervousness increased and the feeling grew that something was approaching he decided to make the first move.

  After they’d rounded the corner the tunnel had run straight and if something was now there it must have come along between the tracks – there was hardly any space to the side and in any case any movement there would have produced inevitable sounds from the gravel and stones which lined the track. He stepped silently out from the wall to the middle of the track, bent on one knee, held his arm as parallel to the ground and to the direction of the rails as he could judge, steadied his arm and fired.

  The tunnel was lit up for a brief instant by the flash and noise of the shot hammered off the walls, the echoes repeating and then dying away. Initially startled by the shot, Bettina had noticed in the brief flash a shadowy bulk less than fifty metres away and instinctively shot at it.

  There was a low grunt of pain, amplified by the tunnel, followed by the thud of a body collapsing to the ground as Bettina’s bullet hit Hanno's right shin and continued its trajectory to skip off the brickwork in turn. A blip of light from their pursuer’s location and the muffled sound of a shot barely clearing Thomas’s head as he crouched and then singing off the metal cables to the side showed that Hanno was alive and still dangerous.