A Question of Time

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A Question of Time Page 26

by James Stejskal


  “Don’t worry about telling us the story. We’ll get it from your teammates soon enough.” Jelinek said.

  Jelinek stood up and motioned for Captain Kelly to approach. “Dieter, I want you to accompany him to the base hospital and to stay with him through the whole procedure. We don’t need anyone talking with him when he’s under anesthesia.”

  “Got it, sir. We’ll get him patched up and transferred back to the city, ASAP.”

  Kelly was beginning to think the old man was getting soft calling him by his first name. He went to get the responders from the ambulance while the others deplaned from the front exit door. The safety officer sat next to Kaiser and waited.

  “Tell me about the guy who gave up his ‘D’ ticket to get you on a ride out.”

  “He’s my boss and, right now, I’m glad that he is.”

  ***

  Murphy walked forward to where Wheeler and Fischer were huddled in conversation.

  “I don’t know if you two have noticed but you’ve landed,” he said.

  “Herr Fischer, this is my chief, Tom Murphy.”

  Fischer stuck out his hand, which Murphy ignored and grabbed the German in a bear hug.

  “Welcome to West Germany and thank you for your trust in us.”

  “It wasn’t for you, what I did; it was for my people. I am actually sorry I wasn’t able to finish what I started.”

  “We’ll do what we can to see it through to the end. You helped us very much.”

  “Maybe. But I want to ask you for your help once again. I have three sub-agents that I want to get out. I gave you the information on ‘Flower’ already, but here are all their names and contact protocols. They have not been compromised as far as I can tell, but they will be scared as hell when they understand I am gone. They have done much to help me. Get them all out if you can.”

  Murphy took the piece of paper Fischer handed him. Fischer had stuffed a leather portfolio full of papers and small things into his overalls just before the pick-up. It was all he had in the world now.

  “We will do everything we can, Herr Fischer,” Murphy said. He handed the paper to Wheeler. “We need to get on this as soon as we can. Coordinate with Bonn and start things rolling.”

  Wheeler took the paper and glanced at it. Nodding his head at Murphy, he didn’t say a word, but he knew there would be a lot of work to get the people out.

  “One more thing, I should give you this before anything else.” Fischer handed Murphy a sealed A4-sized envelope, thick with papers. “Don’t open it now, but it contains microfilm and notes on most of the HVA’s overseas networks. Unfortunately, the West

  German network information is in General Wolf ’s safe. I couldn’t get you that.”

  Murphy smiled, “I think this will give us a good start. Maybe we can persuade Wolf to come over someday. He still thinks we don’t know what he looks like.”

  “Good luck with that,” Fischer shook his head. “He has it too good over there and he is committed.”

  “Yes, well enough of that,” Murphy said. “We need to get you back to the States as soon as possible. You’ll be going first to Virginia and then we can figure out what is next for you.”

  Fischer’s eyes lit up. “I’d like to talk about Colorado.”

  38

  The convoy moved out of the American holding area at Helmstedt and back onto the Autobahn heading west. There were safe in West Germany. Inside the third trailer, Becker and Mann sat on the hood of their trusty Wartburg, while the two Agency technicians chatted to themselves. The East German couple sat inside the car not sure whether to be elated or fearful of their current circumstances. Mann had changed into his US Army uniform but Becker was still in his mixed bag of an outfit. The watch cap on his head made him look somewhat like a pirate, which, at that particular moment, was how he felt. He was just happy everyone had gotten out.

  “How do we handle them?” Mann said.

  “We don’t,” Becker said, “remember, an action passed is an action completed.”

  The truck came to a stop. They heard a scraping noise as someone manipulated the exterior lock and the door opened. One of the technicians dropped the ladder out the door and climbed out.

  Becker turned to the other Agency man. “Just keep them locked up until someone comes for them.”

  Clanging down the ladder, Becker hopped off the final rung. He could see they had come into a military outpost not far from the border crossing. There were two civilians, Agency types by their look, and an air force officer waiting.

  “Welcome back, we have a lift waiting to take you to Sembach,” the Air Force captain said.

  Becker could see the “Super Jolly Green Giant” HH-53 helicopter, its rotors turning slowly, beyond him on the middle of the parade field.

  One of the Agency types came up to their group and broke into the conversation. “My guy says you brought two civilians out with you. You may have jeopardized the convoy with your actions. Who are they and by what authority do you think you can do that?”

  “You’re kind of rude. I was just talking with this nice air force officer and you butt in. Here,” Becker said, handing the Agency guy the passengers’ pouch, “I have no idea who they are, but you’ll find all their papers in there. They wanted to come to the West and I decided I would rather accommodate them than shoot them. You should find a nice home for them somewhere. And, if you have any problems with that, take it up with my commander. Captain, if we may?”

  Becker and Mann turned and followed the air force captain to the helo. It was just beginning to spool up its engines. When the helo lifted off, Sembach was an hour and forty minutes distant.

  Long before they landed, the last two days began to tell on both. Mann and Becker were slumped in their seats asleep and didn’t notice when the wheels of the Jolly Green touched down on the tarmac. One of the crewmen carefully shook the two awake and stood back, fully cognizant that both were armed and presumably dangerous.

  “We’re on the ground. We’ll be at the hangar in a couple of minutes.”

  The tailgate opened as they taxied and Becker watched the glare of the airfield lights breaching the darkness of the cabin interior as they passed each pylon. Then it went dark inside and his view of the airfield did a pirouette as the helicopter pivot-turned and came to a stop with its tail facing the big steel structure.

  Mann shook his head to clear it and stood up. Becker got up and grabbed each crewman’s hand to shake it as he walked down the ramp. The rotors were making their last turns with a slow whoosh as they passed overhead. Mann stepped onto the tarmac, knelt on the ground, and touched it. Sergeant Major Bergmann walked up to them and grasped Mann’s shoulder. “Good job, Stefan.” It was one of the rare moments when Bergmann would have gotten emotional had he not been so elated. He grabbed Kim by both shoulders and shook him a bit.

  “Kim, you did it. Everyone in and out safely. Kaiser is fine, we sent him off to the medics with Kelly. You’re going to have some storytelling to do now.”

  “I did my job, Sergeant Major, nothing more, nothing less.”

  “It was much more than that. I think you can let go of that demon now.”

  “What demon?”

  “The one Greener told me about: the only thing that matters is getting everyone home. You did that. You did all you could for your men and you succeeded.”

  Becker was silent and then he remembered something told him at a Sunday school session long ago. The teacher, an army veteran of World War II, said something he would always remember: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.”

  The verse came back to him now. There was nothing more important than that.

  “I’ll do my best, Sergeant Major.”

  “Good, because I need team sergeants like you. Mann, you need to start on your after-action report right after we drink a toast to this operation. Let’s go find the rest of the team.”

  The crew of the Jolly Green paused to watch the
men walk towards the hangar, wondering just what kind of mission they had witnessed.

  A couple of air force security police sergeants were standing by the partially open hangar door, their M-16s at the ready. Bergmann walked by them without his usual dig at “Flyboys” because of his elation and the fact that the squadron had fulfilled every request without a single objection or waver of commitment. They headed past the resting MC-130 and into the conference room.

  Of the crew, only Cantwell remained. Becker saw Jelinek talking with Murphy and Fischer while Lindt, Stavros, and Wheeler were off to the side contemplating their coffee cups. When Jelinek saw their approach he broke off the conversation and started walking towards them. He didn’t say a word, he just embraced first Mann and then Becker in a bear hug. Luckily it didn’t last long because Becker couldn’t breathe—he was being crushed by the colonel’s most Slavic greeting and expression of congratulations.

  “You did a great job! Your team did great,” Jelinek said, handing each a big tumbler of Scotch. “I would give you a cigar but the air force says we can’t smoke here!” He glared at Cantwell.

  Murphy came up next and shook their hands.

  “Good job, Kim. Don’t worry about the kids you brought out. The guy you met in Helmstedt is a real dickhead. We’ll take care of getting them resettled.”

  “Thanks. When this is all done, you should recommend Captain Welsh for a medal. He must have watermelon-sized cojones.”

  Then Fischer approached. The German stood back a bit and exchanged a silent look with Becker before he approached. He first shook Mann’s hand silently and then wrapped his arms around Becker and hugged him.

  “Thank you, Kim. I can never repay you.”

  “You just did, Herr Fischer.”

  “Call me Max. I am no longer your charge, I am your friend.”

  Murphy spoke up. “I wanted to get him out of here as fast as possible, but he insisted on waiting for you guys to arrive. We are going to fly him home in the morning once we finish the formalities here.”

  “Formalities? What else do we need to do now?”

  “Just a couple of things more,” Murphy said, reaching into his pocket. “I don’t think you quite remember me, but you might remember this.”

  He placed a small tarnished bronze coin into Fischer’s hand. Fischer glanced at it and then looked up at Murphy. “I thought there was something familiar about you.”

  “There is. I recruited you.”

  Fischer smiled. “Actually, Mister Frank, I think it was I who recruited you.”

  “Perhaps. But there’s still just one more thing we need to take care of,” Murphy said and then looked at Wheeler who standing by a door to the room. Wheeler opened the door and motioned to whoever was behind it.

  Fischer was frozen in place. “My God,” he said.

  Lila walked towards him quickly and threw her arms around her friend.

  “My God,” he repeated, “how did you get her out? How did you know?”

  “I remembered you talked about Lila when we were on Zanzibar. Then you gave us the contact information for Flower. I put the story together and that was all we needed to get her out. Her exit was much easier than yours. She wasn’t being watched,” Murphy said.

  Lila turned to the woman behind her. “And this young lady helped.”

  Rohan stepped out from behind Lila. “We’ve met once before,

  Herr Fischer, in Berlin,” Rohan said.

  Stavros was as speechless as Fischer.

  “We borrowed your friend after you went to the Zone,” Murphy said. “She is pretty good at this kind of stuff.”

  “So I see.” Stavros wrapped his arms tightly around Rohan and she squeezed him back in return.

  “It’s a family homecoming and I think I want to cry.” Wheeler effected to blow his nose for the crowd.

  ***

  Murphy saw that Lila and Max needed some time before he rushed them off, so he sat them down at a small table and walked away.

  “So can I ask, was it all worth it?” Lila asked of Max.

  “What? You and I, or my work?”

  “Both, I guess.”

  “The work was, I think, most of the time. I did what was probably the right thing; I just hope it will make a difference to our people in the end. If I knew that, I would feel good. But the people I had to work with, that was hard…”

  His voice trailed off. He felt as if a chasm had opened and he was staring into it.

  Lila was leaning in closely, looking at him intensely, her dark eyes shining.

  “And us?”

  She shook her head lightly, swinging her long, dark hair back and forth. Her necklace, a long gold damascene chain with a heavy pearl orb attached, swung as well. It tangled in a long tendril of her hair. She was looking at him and hadn’t noticed.

  He leaned over and reached out to disentangle the chain. As she watched him, her eyes narrowed a bit and a slight smile came to her face. He felt the warmth he usually felt when she did that. He smiled inside and knew.

  He tugged on her hair and unwrapped the chain a bit. Then he watched as the orb swung around, spiraling down the tendril until it fell free.

  And, finally, so was he.

  “I’m sorry for making you wait.”

  “No need for that now. We’ll make it work, we’ve waited long enough.”

  Their eyes locked. Without even the slightest blink, her hand slowly reached for the orb, her fingertips softly brushing the smooth skin of her neck where the necklace lay.

  She tilted her head to the side and looked down at the hand cupping the orb. A soft curl fell, framing her left temple. He reached out in an attempt to sweep the strands away, but instead he pulled her face closer. He closed his eyes and kissed her.

  39

  Kim Becker took off the watch cap he had been wearing, stuffed it in his field jacket, and ruffled his hair. He watched as Murphy disappeared with Fischer and Lila. His teammates and Rohan were heading off in another direction with the colonel and sergeant major. He realized he was alone in the room. He turned and walked back out into the main hangar where he found Wheeler looking up at the nose of the “Combat Talon.”

  “Nice piece of equipment. It did the job and then some,” Wheeler said. “It might have come in handy a couple of years ago for some of my missions.”

  “It’s always like that, ‘necessity is the mother of invention.’ We either have it in the inventory or we have to invent it.”

  “Without this thing we might not have been able to get OZ out.”

  “He mentioned something about taking a train to Finland, maybe you should look into that next time around.” “I don’t think you can get there from here.”

  “No, I suppose not. But I mean there must be other ways to do this kind of extraction, just in case. You Agency guys are supposed to be good at this.”

  “The Agency is good but sometimes we need outside help. That’s where you guys come in; you have abilities the Agency doesn’t have.

  It’s not like they can rely on veterans like me to bring their skill set over and put it into action. It doesn’t work that way.”

  “I thought you had some special action teams or something.”

  “You know, when I was in Special Forces a while ago, I thought there must be a super secret unit that was better, even tougher than we were. One that was so classified, no one knew anything about it.”

  “And?”

  “There wasn’t. We were the best. We were a bunch of regular guys trained to do special things. You and I are the ones. What we have is the desire and motivation to be the best. And even if we sometimes make mistakes or things don’t go as we wish, we always come back. SF is still like that—you and your guys are the best. ”

  “How about the Agency? You like it?”

  “I’m well beyond my rucksack years, so it’s better than nothing for a guy who wants to keep his hand in the game. But we work more as individuals and the one thing I miss are the teams. I miss the ‘
all for one and one for all’ sort of spirit.”

  Becker nodded his head silently as he ran his hand over the cool, aluminum skin of the fuselage towering over him. There was more to this job than the things the recruitment brochure showed and more than what he had experienced in the jungle. There were larger problems in the world that he could actually affect. Sergeant Major Bergmann’s words came back to him and that, along with Fischer’s heartfelt bear hug, pushed Becker’s soul imperceptibly in the direction he was meant to go.

  “What are you going to do now, Kim?”

  “I am going back to Berlin. I’ve got a great team and a job to do.

  What more could I possibly want?” “Good answer, kua‘ana, my brother.”

  I think I am supposed to be right here after all, Becker thought.

  “Jamie my friend, I think it’s time for us to go home.”

  40

  “What the hell happened out there, Hoffmann?”

  “Minister, the coroner identified three deceased men at the Dacha. We believe they were Major General Fischer, Major General Großmann, and Großmann’s driver. Although we are fairly certain, it’s difficult to determine exactly because the bodies were badly burned in the fire. According to the investigator’s preliminary survey, it appears it was a murder-suicide. From what we know, Großmann learned that Fischer had gone to his Dacha for several days of leave. Großmann apparently believed Fischer was our traitor and decided to take the matter into his own hands. Ballistics show that Fischer and the driver were shot with Großmann’s pistol. And then Großmann was shot with his own weapon, which was found in his hand. The Dacha was a total loss because of the fire. The investigator thinks it started sometime later—after the shooting. He believes it to have been caused by the gas stove. The stove was found to have been turned on, probably by Fischer before he was visited by Großmann. What remained of a coffee pot was found on top of the stove.”

  “Who gave Fischer permission to take leave?”

  “I did, Minister. I thought he needed a break,” Markus Wolf said.

 

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