The sum of all fears - Tom Clancy [197]
"Your husband is associated with the Greifswald-Nord Nuclear Power Station?"
"He was. As you know, it is being closed down."
"Quite so. I would like to know what you and he think of that. Is Dr Fromm at home?"
"No, he is not." she answered uncomfortably. "Wiegler" didn't react visibly.
"Really? May I ask where he is?"
"He is away on business."
"Perhaps I might come back in a few days, then?"
"Perhaps. You might call ahead?" It was the way she said it that the KGB officer noticed. She was hiding something, and the captain knew that it had to be something-
There was another knock at the door. Traudl Fromm went to answer it.
"Guten Abend, Frau Fromm," a voice said. "We bring a message from Manfred."
The captain heard the voice, and something inside his head went on alert. He told himself not to react. This was Germany, and everything was in Ordnung. Besides, he might learn something
"I, ah, have a guest at the moment," Traudl answered.
The next statement was delivered in a whisper. The captain heard approaching steps, and took his time before turning to look. It was a fatal error.
The face he saw might as easily have come from one of the endless World War II movies that he'd grown up on, just that it lacked the black-and-silver-trimmed uniform of an SS officer. It was a stern, middle-aged face with light blue eyes entirely devoid of emotion. A professional face that measured his as quickly as he - It was time to -
"Hello. I was just about to leave."
"Who is he?"
Traudl didn't get a chance to answer. "I'm a reporter with -"
It was too late. A pistol appeared from nowhere. "Was gibt's hier?" he demanded.
"Where is your car?" the man behind the gun asked.
"I parked it down the street. I -"
"All those spaces right in front? Reporters are lazy. Who are you?"
"I'm a reporter with the -"
"I think not."
"This one, too." the one in black said. The captain remembered the face from somewhere He told himself not to panic. That, too, was a mistake.
"Listen closely. You will be going on a short trip. If you cooperate, you will be returned here within three hours. If you do not cooperate, things will go badly for you. Verstehen Siec.
They had to be intelligence officers, the captain thought, making a correct guess. And they had to be German, and that meant that they would play by the rules, he told himself, making the last mistake of what had been a promising career.
The courier arrived from Cyprus right on schedule, handing off his package to another man at one of five preselected transfer points, all of which had been under surveillance for twelve hours. The second man walked two blocks and started up his Yamaha motorcycle, tearing off into the countryside just as fast as he could in an area where motorcyclists were all certifiably mad. Two hours after that, he delivered the package, certain that he had not been followed, and kept going another thirty minutes before circling back to his point of origin.
Gunther Bock took the package and was annoyed to see that it was to all appearances a movie cassette - Chariots of Fire - rather than the hollowed-out book he'd requested. Perhaps Erwin was delivering a message along with the cassette. Bock inserted it in a player and switched it on, catching the first few minutes of the feature movie, which was subtitled in French. Soon, he realized that Keitel's message was on what intelligence professionals really did. He fast-forwarded through ninety minutes of the film before the picture changed.
What?!
"Who are you?" an off-camera voice asked harshly.
"I am Peter Wiegler, I am a reporter with -" The rest was a scream. The equipment used was crude, just an electrical cord ripped off a lamp or appliance, the insulation trimmed off the free end to expose a few centimeters of copper. Few understood just how effective