“I fail to see how that’s a crime, Lars,” the Colonel interjected. “If it’s his own time, he wasn’t acting against orders, especially since no such orders were issued.”
Muller slapped his hand down on the tabletop. “He still admits to breaking and entering, Colonel, into two separate residences.”
“And stole nothing,” the old man stated.
“Except this journal,” Muller parried, holding up the incriminating item.
“Look, I know it looks bad, and I understand my duties well, but these have been extreme circumstances.” Faust stood, unable to take any more of their bickering. “Furthermore, we have a pressing and dangerous situation that needs a plan, fast, or people are going to die, our own as well as the Americans. If we fail, they’ll see it as a hostile act of war. And then what?”
Muller sighed. Colonel von Friedrich stood with his hands behind his back, at ease, waiting. It was Major Beck who spoke up.
“It seems time is of the essence. I can have a squadron of twelve men here within the hour at your disposal, Herr Direktor. Just say the word.”
“Mercenaries,” Victor Platz sneered. “Hardly Germany’s finest—”
“Every last one of them was once Germany’s finest, Platz.” Beck pinned the assistant direktor with an angry glare. “All served the fatherland, and all would lay down their lives even to this day. They are trained better than even your SEK since they have battled all over the world under every condition.”
“For money!” Platz spat.
“For justice!” Beck boomed. “We are not your average soldiers for hire. My men serve me, and my standards are high. To imply anything less is an insult to both me, the Colonel, and to Germany.”
“Stand down, Victor.” Muller held up his hand, effectively silencing his assistant. “Go call Captain Schneider. We’ll need official cover for this in the event it all goes south. Get the SEK Direktor on the line too. I’ll fill them in.” He turned his attention to Beck. “Call your men. I want them to take the lead on this, but you must coordinate with the SEK. Captain Schneider’s men will be on standby. I want an all-points bulletin put out on Rheinhardt, but it’s surveillance only. No one is to alert or apprehend him. Just notify me. If Rheinhardt does, indeed, show up at the embassy, we’ll take him down. Major,” he pointed at Beck, “let’s get a map on the table of the embassy grounds and surrounding area. I want to set up vantage points. We’ll install undercovers at key locations.” Muller began laying out a plan. At the end of the hour, he addressed Faust. “You get some rest. Go home or across the hall, but either way, I need you sharp. You got yourself wedged up into this mess, so you’re going to ride it out.” His eyes bounced to Heinz. “You too. We’ll meet back in two hours.”
Chapter Nine
FAUST LEFT JOSEPH SPRAWLED across a couch in the lounge. “Need anything?” he asked.
Heinz stuffed two thin hospital pillows under his head and closed his eyes. “No. I’m good.” He lay there, reposed.
“Christ, you look positively morbid,” Herman mumbled as he turned to leave. His sarcasm was answered by a soft snore.
Herman walked out into the hall, feeling exhausted. He was painfully aware that his wife had no knowledge of his after-hours investigating. She didn’t even quite know the whole story on why para-military men were guarding the floor where her daughter had been moved. Between himself and her uncle, they’d concocted a semi-truthful explanation about the ongoing threat from those possibly infected. It hadn’t taken much to convince Helga that putting Therese in a private room on a floor in the hospital reserved for officials and celebrities would help keep her safe while she rode out her situation. Her uncle explained that he personally knew the hospital administrator and had requested such as a favor, had pulled a few strings on her behalf, and that until the contagion was completely contained, he would feel better knowing that she and Therese were well guarded. The lie worked, and for that small mercy, both he and the Colonel were thankful, but Herman knew eventually, Helga would ask questions. She was a sharp-minded woman. The only reason she hadn’t done so yet could only be her immediate worry for their child. He walked to the side of her bed and picked up her small hand. “Papa is here, liebling. You just keep trying to heal, okay? I’m right here.” He looked around for Helga. She was not in the room. Probably stretching her legs in the halls.
The monitor continued to beep in time with her heart. The only other sound in the room was the respirator providing oxygen through the tube threaded down her throat. Seeing her lying there, unmoving, broke him deep inside. “You don’t deserve this. If I’d been more attentive, taken you to the hospital as soon as your Oma told me you’d fallen and hit your head, maybe we could’ve prevented this. I was tired, not thinking. I’m so sorry, baby.” A tear slipped down his cheek. “Please, God,” he knelt down, still holding her tiny hand in his own as he began to pray, “please, you who can do all things, heal my daughter. She’s just a little girl. She means everything to me. She’s my reason for getting up every day, the light in my life. Take me instead if you must, but please, help her, and bring her back to us, for me, for her mother.”
The monitor beeped, and the respirator sighed, and the quiet continued. Herman Faust kissed his daughter’s hand and stood as he gently placed it at her side. “I’ll be right over there, love. You just rest so you can get better.” He ambled to the rollaway bed next the opposite wall and sat down. It felt as uncomfortable as it looked, but it was near Therese, and the pillow still smelled like Helga’s perfume. Faust curled up on his side and closed his eyes. Within minutes, he was fast asleep, unaware of the note that fluttered to the floor.
An hour later, his pager went off, disturbing the silence. Faust’s eyes popped open, and he looked immediately to his daughter. She lay as still as before, monitor beeping, and respirator sighing. The shrill sound rippled once again through the room. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the pager. The number flashing in red was not one he recognized. Rising, Herman prepared to leave the room. His foot slid, and as he righted himself, he noticed a slip of paper under his shoe. He bent down to pick it up, and exited the room, stepping across the hall to the payphone on the wall, never once looking at it. He slipped a coin into the slot and dialed. It was a 00372 number. East Germany, area 2. Herman made the call collect.
“This is Herman Faust,” he said. The operator repeated his name.
“Herman Faust making a collect call. Will you accept the charges?” she asked.
A deep, gravelly voice chuckled. “Yes, operator. I accept the charge.” The line clicked, passing the call through. “Since I’m paying for this call, I’ll keep it brief. I told you not to interfere, Officer Faust, and yet, I have been informed otherwise.”
Faust stood, thinking, wondering how this man knew he was investigating. There could be only one answer. There was a traitor among them.
Major Beck stepped out into the hall. Seeing Herman on the phone, he stopped, directing a questioning look his way. Faust thought fast, and then tilted his head, inviting Beck over. He decided in that split second that the Colonel’s man was trustworthy. There was no ulterior motive that he could figure since Beck was on the Colonel’s payroll, and until yesterday morning, completely unaware and uninvolved in the unfolding drama.
He considered his words carefully. “I’m not sure what it is you’re referring to.”
The rough voice grunted. “Don’t play coy with me, Officer. You’re not dealing with a fool. Remember that I warned you. This operation is above your paygrade.”
The man’s words struck a chord. His patronizing tone, and reference to a pay grade connected the scattered information in his brain. Taking a chance, Faust dropped verbal bait. “And you’re not dealing with a fool, either...Colonel-general Davidovich.”
Silence stretched painfully across the miles between them, separated by a wall of concrete and oppressive ideology. Finally, the man laughed, an amused yet angry sound.
“I see. That is
neither here nor there, but your bullheaded foolishness will not be allowed to derail our plans. I’ve worked too hard, planned for a very long time for this. Nothing is going to stop me or my comrades. Your westernized democracy is going to die a terrible death.” Faust held the phone out for Beck to listen. “And since you’re determined to stick your nose into my business, I think I’ll begin with you. I keep my promises, Officer.” He hung up.
“Sonofabitch!” Beck cursed.
Herman stood, holding the now dead receiver in his hand. “Helga!” he glanced down at the paper he held, finally reading it. “Jesus! She went home!” He dropped the phone, turning to Major Beck.
“I’m on it.” He pulled out a two-way radio, calling two of his men. “Stein, Graf, I need you to head over to the Faust residence. Frau Faust is in immediate danger. A threat has just been issued. Voigt, Jensen, Weiss and I will remain here to protect the child. Bring Helga here. We’re going into lockdown...”
“Roger that, Major. Over and out.” Stein replied, signing off.
Beck patted Faust on the shoulder. “You did well. That was a smart move, calling him out. Now we know who we’re dealing with.”
“Smart? More like stupid. I poked the bear, and now it wants to eat my family.”
Beck shook his head. “No, smart. You’ve rattled him, and agitated men make mistakes. He knows you know things, but not, exactly, what things. You understand? Whatever game plan he had, now it must change. He’ll be desperate. I need to inform the Colonel, and Direktor Muller will need an update.”
“Direktor Muller will need an update on what?” Victor Platz came to a stop next to Beck.
Irritation passed behind Beck’s hazel eyes before he turned his attention to the thin man wearing a gray suit. “Something has come up.”
Victor pushed his hands inside his pants pockets trying to appear intimidating. “Then tell me and I’ll relay it to the Direktor.”
Faust felt a queasy feeling in his gut, one he couldn’t quite explain. He cleared his throat, and began to open his mouth, his attention on Major Beck, but Beck spoke first.
“Come with me. I’ll explain inside.” He directed Platz to the room he used to both sleep and hold briefings. “The Colonel should hear this too, and I don’t want to explain it twice.” He looked over his shoulder at Herman. “Stay with your daughter. I’ll be in shortly.”
HERMAN PACED THE SHORT length of Therese’s room. His nerves were frazzled, his body ached from lack of sufficient rest, and his mind screamed at him that something was wrong. He knew Beck’s men were enroute to retrieve Helga but worry nagged at him. If Davidovich was as organized as Faust believed him to be, he could easily have someone in place ready to carry out the threats to Herman’s family. If that was the case, would Beck’s men make it in time before something dire happened?
Across the hall, Beck was busy briefing Colonel von Friedrich and Assistant Direktor Platz. That left three guards inside the hospital. Meanwhile, Captain Rheinhardt was still on the loose. Obolenk’s plan of attack was still in motion, and biological warfare was imminent. The clock was ticking, counting down, and if they failed to stop the Soviet’s weapon, at 1:00 p.m., all hell would break loose, and the fallout would spread before anyone could stop it.
It was just past mid-morning. Lunch would be arriving soon for Beck’s men and Helga. Jasper personally delivered every meal ensuring who the food came from. Faust reminded himself to add a bonus to the man’s pay on top of Von Friedrich’s payment. In Faust’s view, the man was truly an angel of mercy during their time of need. He knew Helga should be safely back inside the fortified hospital wing by then. One less worry. Still, he paced. The sick feeling in the pit of his stomach refused to leave. He needed air.
Herman grabbed his coat, preparing to walk the hallway, and perhaps poke his head out of the emergency exit door that led to the roof. As he stepped out of Therese’s room, the elevator chimed announcing someone arriving on the floor. He checked his watch.
“A few minutes early, Jasper.” Faust pivoted, changing direction to greet the man and help him carry the bags.
Horror gripped him.
Time slowed as his heart rate sped up. A tall man sporting a blond crew cut stepped off the lift. Decked out in black from head to toe from his leather boots to long, leather duster coat, he exuded menace. In his hands, he carried an IWI Mini-Uzi. The fact that Faust recognized the Israeli model weapon and knew it could fire over nine-hundred rounds in one minute felt surreal to the moment where alarms were flashing red inside his head and screaming, ‘Danger!’ The hallway suddenly felt like the eye of the hurricane before the storm raged.
Faust reached for his sidearm, unlocking the holster, and whipping out his handgun before shouting, “Beck!”
An explosion of sound shattered the silence. The assassin pulled the trigger and a hail of bullets flew.
Faust dove behind the nursing station, knocking the doctor and one nurse to the ground as he went down. Major Beck came out of his room down the hall, firing at the blond man, catching him off guard, but only for a moment before he turned the nozzle of the Uzi in his direction. The spray of bullets sent chips of plaster flying from the walls, and shards of glass from broken lights became deadly projectiles in an instant. Herman took advantage of the distraction to the man’s attention. He peered around the corner of the desk and took aim at the assassin’s boots. The first shot missed, but the second hit the toe of his left foot.
The assassin grunted, cursing, and with his free hand, pulled out a Glock from inside his coat. He aimed it in Faust’s direction, pulling the trigger. He was now fighting two fronts and winning. He advanced forward, getting closer to Beck, and closer to Therese’s room. Beck’s mercenaries, Voigt, Jensen, and Weiss joined the fight. Two advanced from near the elevator, and Voigt came from behind Beck who provided cover. The explosion of gunfire continued as Beck and his men battled it out, their handguns versus one assassin with an Uzi that held them at bay. Faust listened for an opening, peeking around again, taking aim and preparing to shoot. The man was only three feet now from his daughter’s room, having pushed Beck and Voigt back while simultaneously holding Jensen and Weiss in their current positions hiding behind medication carts in the hall.
Faust felt his heart beating somewhere in the region of his throat. There was no way he was going to let this killer get to his daughter. He’d die first. Crossing himself, he maneuvered into a squat, getting ready to spring out. “One, two,” he whispered, set to go on three.
A shot rang out from behind them. The assassin stiffened, eyes rolling up in their sockets. His knees gave way as he fell face first onto the hard tile, blood pooling around his head. The silence was deafening.
Faust stood cautiously, looking hard right down the hallway beyond the Jensen and Weiss who were still hunkered down. Joseph stood there, gun still raised, a plume of smoke curling out from the tip.
He looked at Herman and dropped his arm down to his side. “Maybe next time you’ll keep it down so a man can catch a little shut-eye.”
A chuckle of relief bubbled out of him. Faust wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead, coming to a stand. “Christ. Can’t sleep through a little gunfire, Joseph? Don’t be such a cranky old woman.” Inside, emotions threatened to choke him. Herman turned and ran to Therese’s room.
IN LESS THAN AN HOUR, agents from the LKA arrived on scene, securing the hospital perimeter and the ward. The press came out in droves but were kept outside of the police tape as the body of the assassin was carted out the back via the morgue. Rather than utilizing the city coroner’s van, the deceased was transported by ambulance, no lights flashing, and no siren blaring. The quiet exit allowed the agents the opportunity to provide a decoy suspect to be walked out through the front door in cuffs and taken by police cruiser to headquarters. Major Beck volunteered Voigt. A jacket was thrown over his head to hide his identity as the communications liaison, at Direktor Muller’s order, informed the press that a lone wolf gunman had en
tered the hospital that morning and began shooting.
“At this time, the motive isn’t clear. What we do know is that there were no fatalities, and no injuries. We’ll keep you apprised as we find out more, but for now, this is an ongoing investigation.” The liaison stood tall, speaking with easy confidence. As he concluded, the journalists began shouting questions, like a nest of hungry magpies begging for worms. He exchanged a brief look with Direktor Muller who gave an almost imperceptible nod. The signal passed between them, and the liaison waved to the reporters before turning to walk away. The press conference was over.
Upstairs, Major Beck filled Faust and Heinz in on the plan.
“We leave in twenty minutes. I have men already getting into position surrounding the embassy. Muller has contacted them. The embassy staff is aware of the threat, and the American CIA have taken over locking it down. No one will get in, and the ambassador won’t be coming out, not today. It’s up to us to intercept Captain Rheinhardt...” Beck eyed Faust, “by any means necessary.”
Herman nodded. He understood. Even if Rheinhardt surrendered, which was highly unlikely, getting within thirty feet of the man would be too dangerous. That was the radius determined by the American scientists.
“What of bystanders? That’s a busy street. How will we keep innocent people from becoming infected?” Heinz asked what they were all thinking.
“The local police have been directed by the LKA to make sure the streets are blocked off. As I understand it, they are using a possible gas leak as the cover story. Undercovers should already be arriving on scene to begin the ruse. Having them there early helps alleviate suspicion.”
“But Rheinhardt still must make his way there, and depending on how, it could be putting hundreds of lives in danger.” Faust sighed. He reached up to rub the back of his neck.
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 79