by Paul Blake
‘Park just ahead of the entrance, so the others can be directly outside.’
‘Yes sir,’ Andrei said. He checked for traffic coming the other way, crossed the lane and parked where he was told. He saw in his rear-view mirror that the black SUV had followed behind him and three men exited the vehicle.
‘Now we wait,’ Olegovich said. He watched two men take up position either side of the entrance and the Lieutenant stand by the open door of the SUV. I’ll get you, you bastard.
9
Alec crossed over the road opposite the club. There was a covered entrance to a car park, and he could shelter from the heavy rain that greeted him as he appeared from the closed-off sanctuary of the Golden Dolls. His coat collar was turned up to protect his ears and neck from cold. He stood in the relative dry thinking about his next step. I’m going to have to sleep soon. Man, I’m going to crash so hard. All that alcohol and adrenaline I’m lucky it hasn’t hit yet. Where can I sleep?
He noticed a silver sedan car pull up outside the club, a black SUV with tinted windows pulled in behind it. Alec edged further into the car park entrance, deeper into the shadows, moving any further was prevented by a heavy gate blocking the entrance. He saw three men exit the SUV, the biggest one stayed with the vehicle watching the entrance. The other two went either side of the entrance and appeared to be watching for someone. Alec watched the rain splatter against the roofs of the vehicles, streak down the windows. His mind frantically searching for an exit, a plan of action, anything. There’s no way of escaping if they see me. They look like Spec Ops soldiers. They are younger, fitter, and stronger than me, better equipped and there are more of them. I’m toast. He pulled out the package from his waistband. It was a large brown enveloped wrapped around itself and taped. Alec carefully opened it at one end and unwrapped it. He removed the phone. He put that in his coat pocket. He next took out the gun and magazine, he put those in the other pocket. Alec tipped the parcel up, and a small SIM card dropped into his palm, he put this in the pocket with the phone and slowly folded up the envelope and placed it into his back pocket. All the time he was watching the men across the road. He took the gun out of his pocket and slowly checked it was in working order. The sound of the rain hitting the pavement and the vehicles would hide any noise he made, however, he wanted to minimise any movement that could draw attention to him. He considered dropping to the floor like he did earlier, but they obviously didn’t know he was there and his view would be obscured by the vehicles. Alec checked the magazine, depressing the top brass bullet to gauge the magazine’s condition. The bullet sprang back up satisfactorily when he let go. Alec inserted the magazine into the gun and removed the safety. That extra second may be all the advantage I have.
He saw the men either side of the door tense up as Peter, and the group left the club, practically dragging John with them. They paid no attention to the men outside the club. Probably think they are doormen. They turned right and headed down Potsdamer Straße towards Kurfürstenstraße, he saw them turn onto Lützowstraße. They must be getting a taxi from there to their hotel, lucky bastards. The Police would have given my description to all hotels and taxi companies by now. The man by the SUV went to the other vehicle and spoke into the back window. Alec could see his close-cropped hair, no grey there, and his massive head squared like a weightlifter’s on his bull-like neck. The man shook his head and then nodded. He left the car and walked purposely to the other men. They spoke for an instant, and one of the soldiers went into the entrance of the club. The strongman took station in the vacant space beside the doors and waited.
Alec slowly, bent his legs, so he was lower, a less distinct silhouette amongst the other shadows of the alcove. I could phone the embassy to get help and try to escape in the confusion, but then they’d be able to track me through the phone, and I don’t know who to trust there anymore. I’ll hold tight, they don’t know I’m here… yet. One minute, then two, Alec waited crouched, his back and his legs were aching from the effort of holding the position. At the entrance, there was a commotion, and the soldier was pushed out of the club by the bouncer Alec had dealings with earlier. There was a lot of shouting. From the back of the silver car a man got out and strode over to the argument. Alec identified the commanding way he carried himself, the man quickly took control of the situation. The soldier looked like he was apologising and backed off. The officer took something out of his jacket and showed it to the bouncer. The bouncer looked at it and nodded. Oh shit. The bouncer pointed in the direction Peter and the guys had gone. The three soldiers and the officer turned their heads following the bouncer’s gesture. Alec saw a scar on the face of the officer. I’ll recognise you again, that’s for sure. The officer and the bouncer shook hands, and the bouncer returned to the club. The big soldier told the other two to head down the street, they obeyed without question. He then turned to the officer. Although Alec couldn’t discern what was being said due to the rain he could see the officer was angry at the turn of events, his chopping gestures were made clear when he prodded the larger sub-ordinate in the chest a couple of times. Alec could see the muscular man’s neck redden and then he abruptly walked back to the SUV and got in the back. Alec and the officer watched as the SUV started up and made a rapid u-turn in the street and headed in the direction of the other two soldiers. For barely a moment the vehicle’s headlights swept over Alec’s position in the shadows. Alec closed his eyes quickly to prevent being blinded by the glare. When he opened them, he could see the officer looking in his direction, peering intently into the gloom. The officer stayed like that for what felt to Alec to be a good minute or two, he didn’t dare move. Just get back in your car, goddamn it! Alec’s nose began to tickle. He willed his arms to remain by his side. The tickle grew stronger, more insistent, more demanding, like a creature had flown into his nostril and was burrowing around, looking for scraps. He remained still, he tried to slowly wrinkle his nose, ensuring his mouth remained closed to prevent the whiteness of his teeth showing, to relieve the pressure, but that did not work, just as it became too much for him and his hand started involuntarily moving, the officer snapped his gaze away and strode back to the car. He opened the back door and got in. Alec, remembering the headlights from the SUV, dropped to the ground. The hard, wet concrete floor shook his knees and back. He tried to splay out to disguise his body shape, become more like a homeless person sprawled on the ground or a pile of rubbish bags left out for the morning collection. As he was adjusting his position, the car’s engine growled to life. Alec went motionless, the nasal tickle forgotten. The car’s wheels shrieked as it turned and sped down the road, its headlights barely getting a chance to highlight anything, the driver in such a rush. Alec exhaled loudly. Got to get off the streets, I’ve been lucky so far, that can’t hold, with the Russians on my trail and those two goons earlier. Get off the streets and speak to Arthur. Alec stood up with a wince and brushed down his jacket. He gripped his nose between his thumb and forefinger and rubbed them together hard. That’s enough of that, you traitor, he admonished his betraying body. He put the safety back on the gun and put it in his jacket pocket.
Alec started walking up Potsdamer Straße, away from the strip club and the soldiers, towards the River Spree. He kept under the covered walkway and was relieved when the two lanes of the road split and became a dual carriageway separated by a grassed median strip with the occasional sparse tree. Anything that might obscure someone’s view of me is a blessing. He checked his watch: it won’t be sunrise for another hour or so, where can I go? As he was walking, he considered where he was and who he could trust. It didn’t take him long. Newbury lives in Neustaaken in the Spandau district. It’s a bit of a trek, over an hour away, he thought for a moment, and the bus will take me back past the strip club. No, safety first. There must be someone else? Alec started to despair; his self-imposed isolation for the past few years was really making its presence felt.
He used to be very popular among his peers and acquaintances, always
being invited to weddings, dinner parties, nights down the pub, restaurants. He never noticed the invites disappearing, the calls drying up as he withdrew into himself. They used to go out as a gang, Stefan with Brigette and Makary, or Alec with Arthur and Julia, Roger and Claudia, and Simon and Judith. When did it end? Simon was posted back to Britain and Judith followed. Arthur and Julia broke up. Roger and Claudia, well, they had children and… Roger and Claudia, where did they live again? It wasn’t too far away, was it? Alec thought back to the last time he remembered being at their apartment. Roger had just died, hadn’t he? So, it must have been eight years ago? God, that long ago? Julia was there, and Arthur. He could see the looks they gave each other from across the room. Arthur's expression: one of hope and reconciliation. Julia’s one: of betrayal and bitterness. I told him to get rid of that secretary before it got too serious. Stupid Arthur. Twenty-five years of marriage brought down by that age-old cliché. The married man and the attention from a younger, attractive woman. Alec shook his head at the futility of the situation. Simon and Judith came over from England. I had stopped hanging out with Brigette and Makary by then. After the funeral, we had all gone back to the apartment, but it became too much for Claudia, too many happy memories in those walls. So, we all went to that godawful bar nearby that Roger loved, what was it called? It had a toilet seat on the front door… Klo Bar. My goodness, what a place. I don’t think Roger ever grew out of his potty humour and that place sure was full of potty humour. Some of the seats were toilet bowls, and toilet brushes were hanging from the ceiling. Draught beer served in chambermaid pots and urine sample bottles. One table at the back of the bar was a glass-topped open coffin. We always had fun there though, mainly mocking Roger for his choice of bars. They didn’t live far from there, and I haven’t heard that Claudia has moved. The bar was on Leibnizstraße, and they lived around the corner from there, on Mommsenstraße. I can get the bus from outside the Neue Nationalgalerie. Should only take 20 minutes or so on the bus.
Alec walked with purpose, the effects of the alcohol wearing off in the cold air, the rain had stopped, and a few snowflakes had taken its place. He came to the large intersection with Schöneberger Ufer which during the day was crammed with vehicles, but sparse at this time of the morning. Alec was grateful for the lack of traffic as it meant he could quickly cross the large wide roads without having to be exposed waiting at the kerb for the traffic lights to change. He crossed over the River Spree, glancing down at the dark water below him. He could see the New National Gallery in front of him. The unusual looking building with its sloped flat roof and large glass windows. He turned onto Reichpietschufer and saw the bus stop ahead of him. There was no one there, so Alec, when he reached it, sat on the bench and waited. I’m exhausted. Cold, tired and hungry, I hope Claudia lets me sleep before telling Arthur where I am.
The bus came quickly, and Alec joined the early workers on their daily journey. He stood near the middle doors, ready to press the emergency exit button if necessary. He stood to keep himself alert, knowing it was only a short bus journey. He didn’t want to fall asleep like he did on the U-bahn. He watched out of the window for the sedan and the SUV, and also the silver Mercedes from earlier. He knew he was getting close to Claudia’s when the bus turned on to Kurfürstendamm, Berlin’s main shopping boulevard. Here were all the posh stores, Cartier, Rolls Royce, Hermes, Louis Vuitton, and others. Their store's windows lit up displaying their goods, along with small glass cabinets on the wide pavement allowing a closer look.
He stayed on the bus until it had passed the Leibnizstraße junction, then he alighted at the bus stop between Leibnizstraße and Lewishamstraße, which had always made him smile. Such a strange street name to have in the middle of Berlin. Alec doubled back to Leibnizstraße. He passed the Starbucks on the corner and continued up the road, he saw the Klo Bar ahead, closed for the night. A pang of regret hit Alec in his heart as he remembered Roger.
Roger was tall, well over six feet, slim and very handsome. He was only forty-four when he died of lung cancer; slightly older than Alec. When Alec found out Roger had cancer, he quit smoking the same day in solidarity with his friend’s plight. He hadn’t gone back to it since. Roger had worked in a different department at the embassy, he worked under the Ambassador, and there was office talk that he would be replacing the Ambassador within a year. Claudia, his wife, worked with Alec and had hidden Roger’s condition until his cancer had reached stage four.
Alec remembered that Roger always had a ready supply of awful one-liners to fit any situation, from the clever to his favourite subject toilet humour. The Klo Bar really was his perfect place and probably why he and Claudia moved as close to it as they did. Alec pictured Roger’s face at the Klo Bar the first night Arthur took Julia with them. He didn’t tell her of the trick they play on you as you enter the bar: opening the door activates a small water hose that squirts people as they enter. Julia was, for a second, not amused as the jet of water struck her in the face, had soon joined in with Roger’s infectious laughter. The owners told him once that it gets the customers in the right frame of mind for the bar and is a big success. Alec wasn’t so sure, but Roger found it hilarious, and he always warned the group not to warn anyone new about it. Alec always wanted to take Brigette and Makary there, but they were from his other world. Stefan’s world.
He turned right at Walter-Benhamin-Platz, a large concreted open square, surrounded by apartments and imposing columns, a fountain in the middle of the square reminded Alec that he had drunk a lot that night and had a pressing need. He crossed the square past the closed boutique shops and restaurants to Wielandstraße. It was only a minute from here. Alec turned right onto Mommsenstraße and saw the apartment. It’s so much nicer than the road my flat is on. The road was a lot narrower than the typical Berlin thoroughfares and always reminded Alec of the leafy Mayfair streets in London. The apartment building was three storeys high and painted in a clean, grey colour. How to ask her to let me in? Well, I do need the toilet I suppose, so I wouldn’t be lying to her. Alec took a deep breath and then pressed the intercom for Claudia’s apartment, heard the harsh buzzer sound and waited for her to answer.
10
Alec waited a minute, but there was no response from the intercom. Come on Claudia, he willed. Another minute passed, he stabbed the intercom button hard with his finger, leaving the button depressed for a second or two longer than he should have. Nothing. He reached out his hand to do it a third time, but before he could press it, he heard a sleep-befuddled voice.
‘Who is it?’ Alec recognised Claudia’s plummy German through the tinny speaker of the intercom.
‘Claudia, its Alec.’
‘Alec! What are you doing here? Do you know what time it is?’
‘Can you let me in, I’m busting.’
‘It’s a quarter to six for goodness sake.’
‘Come on Claudia,’ He pleaded. ‘I know it’s early. Please.’
‘Come on then.’ The intercom clicked off, and the door buzzer sounded. Thank you. Alec grabbed the handle and opened the heavy wooden door.
Alec walked up the three flights of stairs, slowly, with heavy legs. The staircase was spotlessly clean, with a delightful floral scent coming from the vases of flowers on each landing. When he came to Claudia’s front door, he took a deep breath and knocked gently.
‘Who is it?’ Claudia asked from behind the door. Alec could see light changes through the wrong side of the peephole.
Alec laughed. ‘Very funny, let me in, please.’ Alec began to overdramatically hop from side to side to indicate the urgency of the situation.
The door was unlocked slowly, far slower than Alec wanted. His jostling around had accelerated the pressure, and the simulated urgency became very real very quickly.
‘Claudia,’ Alec said, elongating the syllables. ‘I wasn’t joking about being busting.’
‘Oh sorry,’ Claudia said, as she opened the door fully. She stood there in a nightgown and robe. ‘You kno
w where it is.’
Alec wiped his shoes on the mat outside the door, ‘Do you want me to take them off?’
‘Don’t worry about it. Just go and do your business.’ She looked at him, her blue eyes widened, ‘You look like a state. Are you ok?’
‘I’ll tell you all about it in a sec.’ Alec quickly went to the bathroom.
Alec looked in the mirror, while he washed his hands. His hair was sticking up in random clumps; there was a dirty streak down one cheek, a red burn mark on the other. Was that the bullet in the club? His hands began to shake, and his red-rimmed eyes had a wildness about them that he hadn’t seen in a long time. His coat was filthy, drying mud down one sleeve and a tear next to the left elbow. He lowered the toilet lid and took out the gun, phone, SIM and wallet from the pockets. He removed the jacket and started cleaning it in the sink. When he finished, he laid it over the side of the bath and returned to the mirror. His coat had protected his suit jacket, but his shirt collar had tracks of mud across it. Probably from the dive over the hedge. He placed the jacket with the coat on the bath and removed the shirt and cleaned the collar. He put the shirt on the growing clothes pile and looked at his body in the mirror. He twisted left and right to see his back. There was a patch of mottled, purple bruises down his left side, already beginning to yellow at the edges and a large fist-sized bruise in the centre of his back, a present from the goon at Berliner Straße, I really hope they get in the shit for losing me.
‘Alec, are you alright in there?’ Claudia asked through the door. Her voice was tinged with worry.
‘I’ll be fine, Claudia, I’m just cleaning up.’ He altered his accent to full-on Cockney, knowing that it would help reassure her. ‘You were right, love, I’m in a proper two and eight.’