The Making of Herman Faust

by Michele E. Gwynn

  Faust glanced at the floor. “She doesn’t know. A day, two days. If it goes on longer, we’re looking at possible brain damage.”

  “My God, Herman.” Heinz reached out, gripping Faust’s shoulder in a reassuring squeeze.

  “I know.”

  “But how did you and Helga get dragged here too? You mentioned something about a case,” he inquired.

  “Yes, yes. That’s partly what I wanted to talk to you about. I need your help.” Faust chewed the inside of his cheek, thinking. “Let’s take this to the lounge down the hall. I promised Helga some coffee.” He moved around his friend.

  Joseph spun around, preparing to follow. “Of course.”

  Two men in dark suits and overcoats stood in their path. “Officer Herman Faust?” The first man spoke, raising a graying eyebrow. His short haircut, dark-rimmed glasses, and American accent caught both Herman’s and Joseph’s attention.

  “Yes? Who’s asking?”

  The man stood stalwart and unblinking. His cohort squared his shoulders, feet apart as if preparing for battle. That man casually parted his overcoat and jacket revealing a shoulder holster beneath with a firearm a hair’s breadth from his fingertips. A badge was strapped to his belt. CIA. Special Agent G. Thompson.

  “I’m Special Agent Miller and this is Special Agent Thompson. Your Captain Schneider said we’d find you here. We need to talk. I heard you mention a lounge?”

  Heinz and Faust exchanged a look, one that said ‘What the hell is going on now?’ “What does the American CIA want with me?”

  “Not out here, Officer Faust. And who is this?” Miller turned his attention to Heinz, assessing him.

  “This is my friend and colleague, Officer Joseph Heinz.”

  “Schneider made no mention of him,” said Thompson. He raised a black eyebrow nearly to the hairline of his crew cut.

  “He works at another borough, but he is here at my request. Whatever you need to talk to me about, you can discuss in front of him.” Faust asserted casual authority into his words. He didn’t like the vibe he felt coming off the Americans and he didn’t want to go anywhere with them without backup. To his way of thinking, they hadn’t fully proved they were who they said they were, and his captain hadn’t mentioned anything about American agents to him, not yet, anyhow.

  Miller spoke after a short pause. “Alright. The lounge? Let’s go there.” He stepped back, letting Faust lead the way. Joseph stayed at his side, a step back keeping his eyes on the agents who followed behind.

  Chapter Six

  “We need to know what you found on Edith Meyer Hoffmann and her brother when you arrested them.” Special Agent Miller pushed the lounge door closed behind them. Thompson took up post standing in front of it to prevent anyone from walking in. Faust and Heinz stood by a table and chairs, watching as the two men stared them down, unblinking.

  “I didn’t arrest them, Agent Miller,” Faust said. “I pulled Gunter Meyer over because I was patrolling near the DDR border and he happened to be driving past.”

  “Then why did you pull him over?”

  “It was late.” Sarcasm tinged Faust’s words.

  Miller tilted his head. “So you had some kind of reasonable suspicion to pull the man over?”

  “It’s unusual for there to be traffic in the area at that time of night, yes.”

  “I see. So you pulled Meyer over. Your report states,” Miller paused as he pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, holding it up and shaking it out, “that you were going to let Mr. Meyer go when a sound alerted you to the presence of another passenger. You searched the car and found his sister, Mrs. Hoffmann, hidden beneath the backseat.” The agent refolded the paper and put it back inside his pocket. “A man you pulled over on suspicion of nefarious activity is found to have been actually involved in nefarious activity and you didn’t arrest them both?”

  Faust sucked in a breath, letting it out slowly as he counted to ten. Next to him, Joseph tensed, preparing to speak on his friend’s behalf when Faust gripped his arm, stopping him.

  “In Berlin, we do not arrest those escaping from oppressive communism. Those people have already endured hardships and punishments we cannot begin to fathom here in the west. No, sir. We welcome them. The only reason I brought them into the station was so that Frau Hoffmann could make her official statement. That is our policy. We debrief, but we do not arrest.”

  Miller continued to stare through his horn-rimmed spectacles, his expression giving nothing away. “So you did not interrogate her, even knowing who she was?”

  “Look, he already told you—” Joseph’s words flew, anger coloring them.

  “It’s okay, Joseph.” Faust held up one hand to halt his friend. “No, I did not interrogate her. Sgt. Herring took her statement, for which I’m sure you probably have a copy of that as well in your pocket, and I did not know who she was until Captain Rheinhardt pointed it out. He is the one who recognized her name. If you have any further questions about Frau Hoffmann and her brother, you should ask him or even Sgt. Herring. Both would know more than I do.”

  Miller and Thompson exchanged a look before Miller spoke again. “Sgt. Herring passed about an hour ago, Officer Faust.”

  Herman felt his heart stop. His lips parted, pausing as if unsure whether or not to speak. Heinz, at his side, gripped his friend’s shoulder in sympathy.

  Miller continued. “And Captain Rheinhardt is missing in action. We’ve already been to his residence. There is no sign he’s even been there in the last twenty-four hours. His neighbor states she last saw him leaving for work yesterday. He never came home. So, Officer, we have a problem. The wife of a Soviet-controlled scientist escaped the DDR, entering West Berlin bringing a deadly biological contagion with her. She is dead. Her brother is dead. Two people who’ve had contact with her body are dead and the only person who knew anything about who she was is missing. You brought her in, Officer Faust. You are the only living link left. Until we find your Captain Rheinhardt, you will be required to stay put. You helped bring this weapon across, and until we’re satisfied that you’re not complicit in this act of war, you’ll be under constant surveillance. Understood?”

  “Wait, what?” Faust’s mouth dropped open. “Complicit in an act of war? Are you out of your mind? And you said two other people are dead. Who else besides Sgt. Herring?”

  Thompson broke his silence. “The EMS responder, the one who performed CPR.”

  “Christ!” Heinz replied. “Herman, you were in contact with her too.” Joseph looked at him.

  “Yes and no. I’ve already been checked. So have Helga and Therese. It seems to be transmitted through blood. Not airborne as was feared.”

  Heinz was visibly relieved. “Thank God.”

  “Indeed,” said Miller, “but the virus, once contracted and activated, is only one step away from becoming airborne. Apparently, there’s an incubation period. Our own team discovered this not two hours ago from the samples confiscated from the hospital coroner.”

  Heinz thought quickly. “And what about those in the hospital and the morgue who’ve had contact?”

  “Already seized and quarantined,” said Miller, who looked at Faust, “including your doctor, I’m afraid. I’m sure another has already taken over your daughter’s care. At least she’s been cleared. Be thankful for that. Officer Faust, do you know of anywhere Captain Rheinhardt could be? Anyone he’d go to?”

  Faust tried to think. His mind was racing ninety miles a minute and getting nowhere. “I couldn’t begin to say... All I know is he seemed well-informed about Solomon Hoffmann. He knew the name and seemed quite interested. He said our own LKA would be very interested in speaking with her. That’s it. He charged me to writing up my report.”

  “Did he mention any names? Call anyone?” Miller pushed.

  Faust’s eyes lit. “Yes. He was calling someone when I left his office. I mentioned this to Captain Schneider. He said he would have the outgoing call log checked, but that’s all I know.
There’s nothing else.”

  “Okay.” Miller looked at Thomson. “We need that call log.” He glanced back at Faust. “We’ll be in touch. Don’t go anywhere and don’t speak of this to anyone,” he pinned Heinz with a stare, “and that goes for you too, Officer Heinz.” The agents turned, leaving Faust and Heinz standing in the middle of the lounge, stunned.

  “Goddamn Americans!” Heinz muttered. “Don’t let them intimidate you, Herman. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

  “Except help bring in a deadly contagion from the Soviets. Dammit, Joseph! I nearly got my family killed!” Knowing how close he’d brought Helga and Therese to death felt like a punch to the gut. “And Therese is not even out of the woods yet. An induced coma, Joseph, all from a small bump on the head. What the hell am I going to do?”

  Heinz patted his back. “You’re going to calm down, go back to your family, and then,” he paused, “pray.”

  Faust nodded, emotions simmering beneath the surface. He drew in a steadying breath. “Yes, that’s all I can do right now.”

  “And don’t forget Helga’s coffee.” Heinz turned, finding a couple of Styrofoam cups and the pot of complimentary coffee offered by the hospital.

  “Christ, almost forgot. Thank you, Joseph.”

  “Anytime.” Heinz held the door open, waiting as Faust passed through. “So was there some other deadly crisis you wanted to discuss with me or was that it?”

  “No, just that one,” Faust grumbled, “Smartass.”

  With cups of hot coffee in hand, they returned to his daughter’s room, preparing for a long day.

  ***

  After eight hours, Faust headed home. Helga remained at the hospital insisting she not leave Therese’s side ‘in case she improved, and the new physician brought her out of her coma.’ The staff brought in a rollaway bed for her and Herman promised to return with a fresh change of clothes after a few hours of sleep. For her part, Helga promised to call immediately if there was any change. His mother-in-law had apparently dropped by earlier in the day leaving a casserole in the refrigerator. Herman was too tired to eat. Instead, he grabbed a beer, popping the cap off the bottle. He downed it in a few gulps and then ambled off to bed. He could barely keep his eyes open.

  Joseph left the hospital earlier in the afternoon to sneak in a nap before reporting in to work. They both worked the night shift, but in light of the recent situation with both the Hoffmann woman’s death, his Captain’s disappearance, Sgt. Herring’s death, and Faust’s own family emergency, he’d been given the next few nights off. Several other boroughs had volunteered officers to fill in to cover the shortfall. Herman knew it would probably be a mess by the time he got back, but at the moment, he didn’t care. His bed welcomed him, and the silence of the house calmed his tattered soul. Within moments, he was sound asleep.

  At 11:33 p.m., the phone rang. Faust’s eyes shot open. For a moment, he was confused, unaware of where he was or the time of night. Consciousness seeped into his brain by the third ring. Helga! He rolled over, grabbing the receiver.

  “Hallo. Helga? What is it? Is Therese awake?” He rubbed his eyes.

  Static crackled on the line. “Nein, nor will she ever wake again if you help the American agents.” A deep voice on the line warned him, a voice Herman did not recognize.

  “Who the hell is this?” Faust sat up, alarm flooding his body with adrenaline.

  “That is not your concern. What is your concern is the continued well-being of your wife and child,” the voice continued as if he and Herman were old friends. “She is quite lovely, your wife, as is your daughter. She is such a small thing.”

  Faust sucked in a breath. “What the hell do you want?” Anger shot through him and suffused his being.

  “Calm yourself. What we want is simple. Do not cooperate with the American CIA and cease searching for Captain Rheinhardt. We know they contacted you today. If you help them in any way, I’m afraid we will not be forgiving,” the voice lowered, “and your family will pay the price.”

  Pain seized Herman’s heart, constricting the muscles in his chest. He gripped the blanket on the bed, twisting it, wishing it was the neck of the coward on the other end of the line.

  “Do we have an understanding, Officer Faust?” The caller waited.

  Nostrils flaring, Herman nodded and then realized he needed to speak past the lump in his throat. “We do.”

  “Good.”

  “Wait!” Herman stopped him before he could hang up.

  “What is it?”

  “Just what the hell are you doing? The CIA already know about the virus. They have it contained. Whatever it is you’re up to, it has already been stopped.” He felt the need to push the man’s buttons, to throw cold water on whatever scheme he and whoever he worked with had cooked up.

  “Has it?” The man sounded amused. “We still have a ball in play, Officer Faust.”

  “Rheinhardt?” Faust didn’t want to believe it. His captain was an honorable man, one he was proud to be working under. Rheinhardt was a decorated officer who’d advanced to the rank of police captain in a record number of years. The man was respected by all who worked for him and with him. It was inconceivable that he might be a foreign agent.

  “No more questions. Good night, Officer. Remember, keep your mouth shut, and your family will remain safe.” The line clicked, going dead.

  Faust sat there, shaking. Whether it was fear or rage, he couldn’t fathom. It felt like a mixture of both and he didn’t like it. Someone had threatened his family. Their safety was his top priority, but he’d also taken an oath to uphold the law and protect the citizens of Germany. He would not take the man’s threat lying down, but first, he needed to get back to the hospital. Arrangements needed to be made to protect Therese around the clock and Helga would need protection as well. He dialed Joseph’s station asking to be patched through to his patrol car.

  “Joseph, it’s Herman. A situation has come up. I need your help.”

  For the next ten minutes, the men made plans. Afterwards, Faust collected a change of clothing for Helga, her personal items, and packed them in a bag. He changed clothes, and then armed himself with his sidearm and two backup handguns; one at his back and the other in his ankle holster. He’d trained for this, but it was the first time he’d carried all three on his person. As he walked out the door, a police cruiser pulled up. Joseph sat inside waiting for him.

  “Ready?” he asked, throwing open the passenger door from inside.

  Faust stepped in. “Yes, let’s go.”

  Chapter Seven

  The private hospital room was more guarded than the Chancellery, Berlin’s answer to the White House and ten times its size. Located in a wing utilized only for government officials and celebrities, it provided the best possible way for Faust to ensure his family’s safety. He did this by calling in a favor.

  “Who are these men again, Herman?” Joseph looked at the six brawny bodyguards who arrived on the fifth floor of the hospital. They stood in formation, like soldiers, waiting to be briefed.

  “I never did fully explain about Helga’s uncle, did I?” Faust glanced at the men and smirked. “Anton von Friedrich was a decorated army colonel, a former special operations expert. You know, he threatened me to within an inch of my life not five minutes before I walked out to stand at the altar to await my bride. He said if I, in any way, hurt his niece, he would, and I quote, fuck me up in ways that would make me wish I’d never been born. Then he smiled and kissed my cheeks, congratulating me. I nearly pissed myself.”

  “You’re joking!” Heinz raised an eyebrow. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

  “Because I was actually a little afraid of the sonofabitch. Anyhow, after Therese was born, old Uncle Anton was so happy to have another child in the family,” Faust paused, and then quickly explained, “he never did have any children of his own, but he was happy for us, and after Therese’s christening, he said if ever I needed anything to call on him. Well, I figured this qualified. An
y threat to Helga and Therese will not be tolerated, by myself or Colonel von Friedrich.”

  Heinz was stunned. He’d never known this about Helga’s extended family. “These men look like mercenaries.”

  “They are.” Faust stepped forward to address them. “Gentlemen, I’m sure the Colonel gave you a rundown on why you’re here?”

  One man stepped forward. He had a squared jaw and stood a head taller than Faust. His shoulders filled out his black suit jacket to capacity and then some. The cold expression in his hazel eyes could stop a bullet in its tracks and make it turn tail returning to the gun barrel from whence it fired. “I’m Major Matthias Beck, and these,” he glanced back, “are my men. The Colonel said his niece and grand-niece are under threat by a foreign adversary. We’re here to keep them safe. We will lay down our lives if necessary,” Beck’s deep voice boomed.

  “I hope that won’t be necessary, Major.” Faust stood with his hands clasped behind his back. “Helga and Therese are in this room.” He pointed behind him. “This is a list of hospital staff cleared to enter to attend to my daughter’s care.” Faust handed the Major a folder containing the names of approved staff ranging from Therese’s new doctor to nurses and even one orderly. Each person had a background check along with a picture to identify them. “No one else goes in or out except for myself and Officer Heinz here.” He looked at Joseph. “I’ve made arrangements for meals to be brought in from the outside. Here’s the vendor, his information and a picture.”

  “Isn’t that Jasper from The Hoffbrau?” Heinz asked, recognizing the chef from their favorite restaurant.

  “It is.” Faust chuckled. “Helga loves their menu and Therese isn’t eating right now. The physician has her on TPN intravenously. Until she comes out from under, that’s all she gets, but when they do bring her out, I’ll have Jasper bring in her favorite meal.”

  “Currywurst and pomme frites?” Joseph asked.