BERLIN

by Paul Grant

  He felt groggy, but not in the pain he was after the tumble down the pub steps. These men were altogether more skilled than the heavies at the Wild Boar. Klaus didn’t struggle as the two men pulled him to his ill-functioning feet. They’d still not said anything, such was their professionalism. When Klaus raised his head he didn’t expect to see the inside of a deserted warehouse. It didn’t make him feel any better; it was possible this was a nice quiet place to discard a body or two. His feet struggled to move. Klaus wasn’t sure if it was the bump to the head or the fear causing such trembling in his knees. He couldn’t see any way of escape, especially not in his current condition.

  ‘Okay, let him stand.’ The words were in Russian, the voice from behind him. Klaus understood enough to know what was being said. The two men left his side to join the driver, and he slowly started to regain his sense of balance. As he did, Klaus smelled the tobacco smoke for the first time. He was trying to place the unique, pungent odour. He was instantly taken back to the bitter cold of Kolyma. He turned in the direction of the voice. By the time Klaus was facing him, he’d just about worked it out.

  ‘Burzin?’

  He was leaning on the side of a gleaming saloon, looking much smarter than when Klaus had last seen him. His overcoat was open to reveal an expensive-looking suit. He was, of course, smoking the obligatory cigarette, the source of the smell which had stirred Klaus’ memories. Life had been kind to Burzin. Whilst Klaus had been catching up with his family, he had moved up in the world.

  ‘Quite,’ he smiled a disarming, if slightly chilling smile.

  ‘What do you want?’ Klaus asked, sounding like a sulky schoolboy. He was still trying to work out why he was there, if at least feeling a modicum of relief it wasn’t Dobrovsky smirking at him.

  Burzin took a lengthy drag on the remainder of his cigarette, before flicking it into the rubble.

  ‘First of all, I must apologise for the manner in which you were brought here. We didn’t have time to waste with pleasantries. I’d heard you were back in Berlin and I needed to act.’

  Klaus felt some indignation now. ‘So what the hell do you want?’ he said. ‘You can’t just kidnap me like that, from the streets of the American sector as well!’ He quickly looked around the warehouse. ‘Where exactly are we?’

  He laughed. ‘Oh, still in Berlin. In fact, we took you from the British sector, but now you’re technically in the American sector.’

  That made Klaus feel slightly better, if a little more annoyed. ‘You’re operating outside the Russian zone? Is that allowed?’

  Burzin chuckled again. ‘Probably not, but we’re only here for a little chat. Things are a little bit hectic over there at the moment.’ He flicked his head behind him, Klaus assumed in the direction of East Berlin. ‘I thought it would be safer over here.’

  Klaus’ anger was growing by the second. He couldn’t believe the cheek of Burzin. Despite the fact he’d saved him from Dobrovsky’s clutches, it didn’t give him the right to do this. Klaus moved towards Burzin, not exactly sure what he had in mind. Instantly, the two minders were beside him again, hands on his shoulders.

  ‘It’s fine, let him come,’ Burzin said, again in Russian.

  Klaus joined him at the car after shrugging off the attentions of the guards. ‘So what do you want? I have rather a lot to do today.’

  ‘Yes, you do, don’t you. I take it you still don’t know where Ulrich is?’

  The mere mention of his name caused a shortening in Klaus’ breath. ‘How do you…?’

  Burzin held up his hand,’ Look, I’ll keep this brief. I know about your son. He has been arrested by our colleagues in Staatssicherheitsdienst.’

  Again, he waited, seemingly enjoying his power over Klaus.

  ‘I thought you were going to be brief?’

  ‘I want you to understand the complexities before I give you… a choice.’

  This conversation was taking him right back to the one in Burzin’s office in Kolyma. He’d given Klaus a choice then. He hadn’t trusted him, but his intervention had freed Klaus. It had worked out for him then. Burzin had saved his life, even if he had been part of the machine that nearly took it away so many times before that.

  ‘I can only be straight with you. Your son is in real danger. He is held in a secure unit in the city and he will be tortured to reveal what he knows. You cannot be surprised by that.’

  Burzin sighed as if he actually cared about the news he was passing on. ‘It’s likely he’ll be executed.’

  Burzin let the words sink in.

  ‘Executed? For what exactly? What is he supposed to have done?’

  Klaus knew the words sounded naïve as they left his lips. Burzin shrugged like Ulrich’s survival was incidental to him.

  ‘Probably not that much, but you know how it works. Besides, he’s been implicated by one of the East German Security Services, one of their own. You can’t do anything to help him, at least not legally.’

  Klaus felt outraged and had a real need to let it out. In his anger he’d missed the nuance at the end of Burzin’s sentence.

  ‘Then why the hell have you brought me here?’ He started to move on Burzin, angry with the bearer of the news, but as soon as he did, he felt the blow across his back, then one more for good measure whilst he was on the floor.

  Through the ringing in his ears, Klaus just about heard Burzin shout, ‘Enough!’

  Klaus pushed himself up on to his hands and knees, slowly dragging himself upright.

  ‘Save your anger for the right people. Believe it or not, I’m here to help you.’

  ‘You’ve got a funny way of showing it,’ Klaus said.

  There was a pause. Klaus didn’t need to look up to know Burzin was lighting another cigarette. ‘There is a way to release Ulrich… It can be arranged.’

  The words rushed through Klaus like a drug. As he looked at Burzin, Klaus almost dared to smile. It took a few seconds before he realised there had to be a sizeable catch.

  ‘How?’

  ‘Perhaps there’s something you could do for me.’

  ‘What could a little man like me do for a powerful man like you?’

  He smiled. ‘I have power, yes, but there are certain things that don’t need to come back to me. Do you see?’

  Klaus shook his head, weary with all the games. ‘Just tell me what you want, Burzin.’

  ‘I need to have somebody dealt with,’ he said.

  Klaus nodded in the direction of his protectors, ‘I’m sure they’d do a better job than me.’

  ‘I’m sure they would, but there is something else about the target…’

  ‘I want my son freed. I’m a simple man. Spell it out!’

  Burzin sighed like he was disappointed. ‘Our friend Dobrovsky is still very much active. He heads a section of the MGB in Berlin.’

  Burzin had confirmed what Klaus had already surmised, and feared, especially when it came to Ulrich.

  ‘How is he different to you?’

  ‘We wear the same uniform, but remember what I told you on the way back from Kolyma.’

  ‘This I understand. So?’

  ‘Dobrovsky has agents in Berlin stirring up trouble.’

  The weariness was now gone, and the bulbs were flashing all over Klaus’ brain. It showed on his face.

  ‘Ah, we’re getting somewhere.’ Burzin smiled.

  ‘But why are they causing this trouble? What does Dobrovsky achieve from it?’

  ‘So they could send tanks onto the streets. Clamp down on the people. They want to take power back using the strongest possible means. Only they needed a reason to do it.’ The end of his cigarette was glowing again. ‘Now they have it.’

  Klaus shook his head in disbelief. Now it all made sense, and the poor bastards on Potsdamer Platz were the pawns to achieve this. So was Ulrich.

  ‘If Dobrovsky wants this, what exactly do you want?’

  Burzin shrugged. ‘There are more subtle ways to keep a population in check, eve
n content. Ulbricht has lost your people. They have to be persuaded there is another way. Extreme force isn’t that way. Dobrovsky is working for the people who want to keep Ulbricht in power, the hardliners. Stalin supported them, their aims, but he’s no longer there. Like I told you, things have changed in Moscow.’

  Klaus thought about the implications of what he was saying. It was starting to make some kind of sense, in a warped way. Power struggles in Moscow were causing unnecessary bloodshed on the streets of Berlin and they were caught up in it all. It sickened Klaus to the core.

  ‘So you want to get one over on Dobrovsky by doing what exactly?’

  ‘For once this isn’t about my feud with him. It’s genuine.’

  Klaus had some difficulty in swallowing that, but let it go. ‘You didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘I want you to take out his top man in Berlin.’

  Klaus laughed. ‘And just how am I supposed to do that?’

  ‘You will have help,’ he said.

  ‘All right, why would I do it?’

  ‘Because if you do it, I will have Ulrich released,’ he said.

  Klaus looked at him, deadly serious now. ‘Released?’

  ‘It won’t exactly be with a pardon for his crimes, but I can get him out and you’d have to do the rest.’

  Klaus thought for a moment. He didn’t have anything to lose. Burzin was offering the chance to free his son. There wasn’t any other way if Burzin was to be believed.

  ‘What do I get from killing a man in cold blood?’

  ‘Aside from your son’s release?’ he asked.

  ‘Apart from that, although it doesn’t sound like a cast-iron guarantee from what you say.’

  He pursed his lips. ‘Does it help if I told you that man was responsible for your son’s arrest?’

  Klaus’ mind instantly jumped to what Ursula had told him. His jaw started to drop as the realisation hit him.

  Burzin was patting his top pocket for his lighter, another cigarette readied in his hand. ‘Bravo, Schultz. That’s right. I want to you to kill Ernst Wiebke.’

  ***

  This time Klaus had the dubious pleasure of riding in Burzin’s official car. He’d provided Klaus the details of where to find Wiebke and when. There were no doubts in his mind he could kill Wiebke. Klaus wasn’t entirely comfortable with it, though; he thought he was done with all that stuff when he returned to Germany. Burzin tried to keep him focused, going through the plan to free Ulrich, should he come up with his side of the bargain. Klaus had to fill in the gaps, work out the arrangements, do all the worrying; Burzin just left him with it. He had his people watching over Wiebke. They would know if the plan to free Ulrich was to go ahead. He dropped Klaus back on the Kurfürstendamm with simple words: ‘Think about it, but not too long eh?’ With that he wound up the window and was gone.

  Klaus had no sooner stepped foot in the hotel lobby, than Markus was at his side. ‘My God, Klaus. I didn’t think I’d see you so soon. What happened? Who were they?’

  He was wary now, scanning the lobby. ‘You’d better come to my room, and I’ll explain there.’

  Klaus sensed Markus was somewhat relieved, that he had lost his guarded approach of the previous evening. He was more like the old Markus.

  ‘Am I glad you’re back in one piece! I couldn’t help thinking it was Dobrovsky,’ he said.

  ‘You and me both.’ Klaus told him about Burzin and Wiebke.

  ‘It certainly makes sense,’ Markus said.

  ‘I’m glad it does for you. The whole thing makes me feel sick,’ Klaus said, slumping down on the bed.

  Markus looked at Klaus pityingly.

  ‘Look, Klaus, I have to be straight with you.’

  Klaus raised his eyebrows wondering why he needed to relieve his burden now.

  ‘I’m all ears.’

  Markus appeared uncertain now he was on the edge of revealing things. He was reluctant, whereas previously he’d been assured or coy, depending on the situation.

  ‘I’m not supposed to tell you this. I was only supposed to help you.’

  Klaus narrowed his eyes. ‘I would like to think you wouldn’t have had to be told to help me by anybody.’

  He nodded, conceding the point.

  ‘I told you I’m working for the West German government, well their Security Services to be precise,’ he said.

  Klaus wasn’t surprised. Why else would he be watching Wiebke?

  ‘When I eventually returned to Germany, they had somebody meet me. A General by the name of Gehlen. They were impressed I’d managed to get out of Kolyma, that much was clear from the beginning. They wanted to debrief me about my fellow prisoners, conditions and the like, but I soon worked out they also wanted to employ me.’

  ‘So you are in Berlin on official business? Watching Wiebke is part of that?’

  He nodded. ‘I was to watch him, report back on the workers, what was happening in East Berlin. I think the speed of the protest has taken everyone by surprise.’

  ‘It wasn’t exactly a surprise to me, but I suppose I’ve only just got back.’

  ‘I watched Wiebke, making the necessary reports. I managed to recruit a man on the inside, infiltrate the meetings…’

  Klaus held up his hand. ‘You’re telling me you knew the people in those meetings?’

  Something was bugging Klaus. ‘You must have known Ulrich, Markus. You couldn’t have been watching Wiebke, Alfons, the people in the Wild Boar, and not know him.’

  Markus was quiet now. He looked at Klaus with the eyes of child when they know they’ve done wrong.

  ‘I knew him, Klaus.’ His words were distant. ‘He was working for me.’

  ‘Working for you? What are you talking about?’ Klaus’ words trailed off as he realised the informant he had recruited was his son. Ulrich was Markus’ inside man.

  ‘You used Ulrich to get to Wiebke?’ Klaus was incredulous.

  Markus bit his lip.

  ‘You put him in danger? Burzin said he was arrested because of Wiebke, but it could just as well have been down to you!’

  ‘Come on, Klaus, that’s not fair. He was already participating in the meetings.’

  Klaus exploded. ‘Not fair? You put him in a perilous position! My son, Markus, my own son.’ Klaus was on his feet now.

  ‘I swear I didn’t even know he was your son to begin with.’

  ‘To begin with? So when did you find out? When he was being dragged off by the Stasi?’

  He was quiet again, so much so that Klaus barely heard him say it: ‘When Reuter told me.’

  Klaus shook his head, struggling to believe what he’d just heard.

  ‘I’m sorry, what? Reuter? You mean the one from the veterans’ association?’

  Then it was clear to Klaus. All that expense to get him back to Berlin, all that goddamned efficiency. Reuter was in the same team, working for this Gehlen, like Markus. They were all in it together. Klaus couldn’t quite comprehend what had been going on around him; the deceit, the manipulation.

  Markus was looking at him wide-eyed. Not only was Klaus a toy in Burzin and Dobrovsky’s game, it appeared he was in the sights of the West Germans too. The people Klaus had thought were his friends, looking out for his interests in the vulnerable position he was – Reuter, and especially Markus, the one he’d saved in Kolyma and numerous times on the field of battle – had deceived him. Not only that, but in trying to look out for their pitiful needs, they’d dropped Ulrich right in the mire. Klaus had thought Wiebke was the one to blame for Ulrich’s position, but it wasn’t as straightforward as that; his oldest friend had played his part, too. Klaus just couldn’t accept that. The deceit was too much to bear.

  As Klaus stared, nostrils flaring, at Markus Schram, he wished dearly he’d left Stransky to finish him off in Kolyma. In fact, in that moment, he could have finished him off himself.

  From somewhere deep down a growl emerged: ‘Get out!’

  Markus started to protest, but he soon realis
ed Klaus meant it. He kicked at his chair, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

  ‘Get out before I kick you out.’

  Markus looked up, full of sorrow and remorse. Klaus wasn’t interested. Markus scuttled out of the room before Klaus did something he might regret.

  He flopped down on the bed, trying to compose himself. His head was spinning, his legs were shaking and he could feel the deep tiredness returning. He was full of anger and, in some ways, downright sadness. His hands were gripping the sheets and he had great difficulty in letting go. Klaus forced himself to breathe deeply and concentrate on the important points, no matter how hard it was. The last few hours had revealed many things, all of which, no matter how much they had shocked him, he would rather have known. No matter how betrayed he felt by Markus, he still had his route to Ulrich. He had to focus on that. If he wanted to trust Burzin, he had a door to walk through. There was no obvious reason not to. He wasn’t doing anything out of the goodness of his heart to help Klaus; he knew his motives. It was all about his power struggle with Dobrovsky and he knew how important, how valuable, that was to him. That was why Klaus knew, if he did what Burzin asked and took care of Wiebke, he would keep his word on Ulrich.

  Klaus’ mind was made up.

  CHAPTER 33

  17 JUNE 1953, EAST BERLIN

  Ulrich’s body was sore.

  After the interrogation with Weber, he’d been taken back down to the cellar and beaten systematically, rubber hoses struck expertly on his body, back and legs. He’d not given them anything before he passed out. He knew it didn’t matter. He would be forced to give them something in the end. It was only a question of time. So much so, he had prepared himself for that eventuality. He had a plan.

  He was perched uncomfortably on the edge of the wooden frame. It was too painful to lie down now he was awake. He heard the spyhole in the cell door swing shut. They’d been watching him again, constantly monitoring, trying to make him feel helpless. The bulb above the door shone day and night, not that he knew which was which.

  Ulrich closed his eyes, wondering how he ended up in this mess. All the warnings he’d received from Ursula, his mother, Eva, and in the end, even his father. He’d ignored them all, thinking he knew better. He believed things could change. Now he knew what it was like in their prisons. Slowly they would wear you down mentally and physically, and eventually you would break. It would be impossible to beat this system. The structure was too strong, backed by an immovable force. Meetings and protests would be useless.