Cinderella
Copyright 2008-2010 Rachael Ross all rights reserved. Intended for adults only. [email protected]
Cinderella - Book Two
by T.S. Severe
Chapter Thirteen
The sharp rapping brought Wolfgang gracefully off the hardwood floor and quickly to his feet. He reached for his Glock 29, sweeping the pistol from the coffee table and moving towards the bedroom. There he found Eva as she emerged fresh from her bath, wet and wrapped in a thin bathrobe. She held a large, Colt .45 semi-automatic and the young woman smiled at her brother as she slapped a full magazine into the butt and pulled back on the slide, letting it spring forward with a satisfying sound.
"I'll be right here," Wolfgang said softly, taking a position so he would have a clear line of sight into the sitting room and the front door.
They'd been waiting for this with growing tension and they were both relieved that the moment was upon them. Wolfgang's hand was steady despite being flushed and damp with sweat from his exertions. He'd been doing sit-ups to relieve the stressful tedium and he wiped a bead of perspiration from his left temple. Eva's solution had been to soak in a hot bath for several hours and read from The Mysteries of Udolpho.
Eva entered the sitting room from their bedroom, padding silently on her bare feet. She approached the door slowly, pausing at the wall beside it, careful to remain clear of her brother's line of fire.
The rapping came again, sounding impatient.
"Who is it?" she asked in clear voice.
"Dieter," a man's voice replied and Eva looked at Wolfgang, nodding her head.
She reached across the door and turned the bolt with a loud snick and then drew back once more. "The door is open, Detective List."
A second later the door swung slowly on its hinges towards her and a tall man in a dark overcoat stood framed in the gray afternoon light. He caught sight of Wolfgang standing to his left and frowned for a second before finally stepping into the flat, dripping rain water around his leather shoes. Eva closed the door behind him with her left hand and pressed the cold steel of her pistol against the back of the man's neck, forcing him to tilt his face down as his empty hands rose slowly.
"It's nice to see you again, Eva," he said without humor. "We were worried about you."
"Shut-up," she breathed. "Unbutton your coat. Are you alone?"
"I'm alone," List answered, undoing his buttons with slow, deliberate fingers. "I don't know you, but…you look familiar to me."
He was speaking to Wolfgang who was only slightly more relaxed and still covering the man with his pistol. Wolfgang didn't bother to reply, but merely gave a tiny shrug of his shoulders.
"That's enough," Eva said, knocking the man's hand away and reaching inside his coat.
"You don't have to be nervous," List said with a small jerk as Eva pulled the man's pistol free of the holster at his hip. It was a standard issue, 9mm Glock 17 and Eva dropped the gun to the floor and kicked it towards Wolfgang.
"You should be nervous," Eva said, frisking the man expertly. "Or didn't they mention that I asked for you personally?"
The policeman didn't answer, but Eva thought she saw some small hint of surprise in his hazel eyes.
She pulled out his Police ID, a thin wallet that she opened for a quick glance and a derisive snort. "Inspector List? You were promoted I see."
"This is Germany." The man shrugged. "Failure has its own rewards."
"Not for me!" Eva retorted, shoving the wallet back into his coat. "What was my reward, eh?"
"The left pocket is what you want," List said slowly. "We were all very sorry for what happened to you, Eva. I…" he started turning his head, "…was very sorry."
"Don't move," Eva told him, reinforcing her command with a push of her gun into his flesh. "You betrayed me Dieter. You left me there, with those pigs. I trusted you."
"Eva, the Interior Minister shut us down," List tried to explain calmly. "We couldn't get you out without compromising…"
"I trusted you!" she screamed at him, taking a sudden half-step backwards with the pistol now against Dieter's right cheek, indenting the soft skin. Her arm was straight and he could see the tendons in her wrist and forearm as Eva tightened her fingers.
List closed his eyes, wincing and holding his breath. Nobody moved for a long second and the tension was palpable. Eva had dreamt of this moment many times, trying to imagine what she would say to the man who had been her only lifeline out of the criminal underworld in which she'd been living. The only man who knew exactly where she was and what she was doing, until the one day when she'd needed him most.
"No, Eva…Don't…" Wolfgang told her gently, braced for the explosion he knew was coming.
Eva's finger was tight on the trigger and a few more grams of pressure, maybe only one more…
She had to concentrate, finding the strength to let her hand relax. She forced the anger back down, burning like a fire in her belly as Eva took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She nodded her head and reached to find a thick brown envelope in Dieter's left coat pocket, exactly as he'd told her she would.
"You have him?" she asked her brother and Wolfgang nodded, very happy that the man's brains weren't spattered on the wall.
"I'm glad you can still control your temper." List tried to smile, but the relief was plain on his face and his voice was weak.
"I killed you a thousand times, Dieter," Eva told him, lowering her pistol and walking away. "I don't need to do it again."
Eva kept her gun in her hand, ripping open the envelope with her teeth and spilling its contents onto the coffee table. She picked up a newly issued German passport and opened it, seeing her face in a photo four years old and taken from her old personnel file with the Berlin Police. There was a birth certificate and driver's license, voter registration and other assorted papers, all valid and identifying her as the twenty-five year old Eva Koeller.
"It's all there," List told her, watching Eva but always aware of Wolfgang and his pistol. "Everything you asked for. I've been instructed to say that if we ever hear from you again…"
"You won't," Eva replied icily.
"…We will not be so accommodating," List finished. "Do you understand?"
"Ja," Eva nodded and turned her intense blue eyes on the man. "You tell them I understand perfectly. And if I hear from you…"
"You won't," List smiled without humor.
"…I will make all of you very sorry," Eva said softly. "Get out…No, leave your pistol. They'll give you another, I'm sure."
"Eva," List paused at the open door and the policeman's eyes were soft. "I'm glad you're alive."
She closed the door behind him, snapping the bolt and turning her back to it as she collapsed slowly to the floor. Eva held her head in her hands, drawing her knees to her chest and weeping quietly. Her body shook and shivered with the uncontrollable emotions that suddenly filled her. Wolfgang crouched beside her, removing her pistol gently and safeing it. He sat with the girl, pulling Eva against his chest as Wolfgang tried to comfort her.
"We have to leave now," Wolfgang said and the sun was going down, weak behind the thick rain clouds that covered the city.
"I know," Eva blinked her red rimmed eyes and forced herself to smile. "I'm okay. It's over now."
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The Kuenst district was an old industrial park to east of Berlin, constructed over forty years before to house military stores for the Red Army. Now the dirty concrete buildings were used by local manufacturers and retailers to warehouse appliances and other consumer goods. Traffic was light and consisted mainly of trucks which had been loaded during the day and would drive through the evening towards their destinations across Germany.
"How well do you know this man?" Wolfgang asked as he drove his Audi past a row of elongated warehouses still bearing faded signs in Russian Cyrillic, most of them spray painted over with obscene graffiti.
"He fucked me," Eva said, "if that's what you mean."
"No," Wolfgang glanced at his sister. "That isn't what I mean."
"I don't know him very well," Eva admitted. "But he's a businessman. Freddie liked him."
"A good recommendation, I suppose," Wolfgang said with a hint of sarcasm.
Eva let it go, turning her head to look out the window. This was easier for her, after what she'd been through, and what doubts she had were only those concerned with their safety. Wolfgang was still struggling with his good conscience, with the bitterness of his own betrayal by the country he'd served. The sins of his father had weighed heavily and unfairly against him, forcing the man onto another, darker path. He didn't like it, however, and it had taken Eva nearly a week to persuade him that they had no choice.
"There," Eva pointed and Wolfgang nodded as he saw the black BMW parked near the loading docks of warehouse 1066, the numbers painted in white on the gray cinderblock wall.
He parked beside the other car and looked at his sister. "If something goes wrong, you keep your head down…"
"I know what to do," Eva smiled at him. "I wasn't a schoolteacher, Wolfgang."
"Hmph," he grunted as Eva pulled back the slide of her .45 and let it go with a loud, mechanical snap. She thumbed the safety and put the heavy weapon in her purse, leaving it unzipped.
"Let's go," she said lightly, reaching for the door handle.
Eva adjusted her skirt, a short one made of red vinyl, while she waited for Wolfgang. It showed her long legs to good advantage in their black stockings. She wore a black t-shirt over her braless breasts and a denim jacket over that. Her platinum hair was loose around her shoulders and her face made up with dark eye shadow and red lipstick. She was growing more attractive by the day it seemed to Wolfgang and he couldn't help but smile as he suffered Eva's impatient gaze.
He carried his 10mm Glock 29 in a thin shoulder harness, with the attached suppressor reaching nearly to his hip as he stood up. It was a small pistol, but bulky nonetheless, and the wool overcoat Wolfgang wore over his suit worked well to conceal the weapon. He combed his thick brown hair back with his fingers, and moved to join Eva, both of them walking towards an open door to the right of the loading docks.
This was Eva's deal and the girl was plainly excited. Wolfgang suspected it was simply because they had been stuck in that small apartment for nearly a month. Even their daily exercise, the morning runs and the regular trips to a local fitness club, hadn't taken the edge off the continual waiting while they decided what to do. Neither of them had much patience for sitting around, although it had given them a good excuse to enjoy many pleasurable hours in bed together.
Now at least they were doing something, meeting a man whom Eva had tracked down over several days, getting a phone number and setting up a meeting. No specific reasons for the rendezvous had been asked for or given, but the understanding was clear. Eva and her new friend were looking for work, employment of a much different sort than what either of them had ever done before.
The man they were looking for was sitting in a small office with big windows on two sides overlooking the large warehouse. The desk was cluttered with papers, shipping invoices and schedules. There was a Seagram's calendar on the wall, two years old and featuring a busty blonde in a yellow bikini. Someone had penned nipples and pubic hair on her, Eva noted, and a Hitler mustache as well. It looked like a typical comptroller's office, down to the ripped vinyl chairs and the half-empty coffee pot sitting atop a dented, yellow filing cabinet.
"Eva!" The man smiled at her and he appeared to be completely alone. "The last person I would ever expect to see in a place like this!"
He stood up from the desk, moving quickly around it despite his bulk. Wolfgang thought he looked rather like a big bowling pin with a huge gut and scrawny chest and shoulders. His head was round and balding, with thin black hair combed over the top in a vain attempt to hide it. His trousers were large and his white shirt wrinkled with the sleeves rolled up.
"Do you want a toaster oven?" he asked, gesturing at the neat stacks of cardboard boxes behind him, loaded on pallets and wrapped in plastic. "I have thousands of the damn things. Fucking China. They're killing us, you know? Hello."
"Good evening," Wolfgang returned the man's greeting, but kept his eyes wandering.
"Oss Fromme, this is my friend, Wolfgang," Eva made the introductions.
"Wolfgang," he said with a smile. "Good. You can relax. My men are gone for the day."
"You mean you really work here?" Eva asked, giving the man a petulant smile.
"Work here?" Fromme chuckled and waved his arm. "I own it! I have six more just like it too. Come into the office, I'll tell you…" he put his arm around Eva's waist, drawing an unseen frown from Wolfgang. "After the Wall came down, I almost bought apartments. But then I thought, who wants to deal with the tenants? Boxes are much easier, believe me! They just sit there. Do you want coffee? It's hot."
"No," Eva declined with a patient smile and Wolfgang shook his head as Fromme glanced over his shoulder at him.
"Sit down here," the man gestured towards the chairs near his desk. "I'll sit back here…and…so?"
Fromme took his chair behind the desk, folding his hands over his ample stomach and leaning back with a smile. He seemed amused by Wolfgang, who wasn't sure whether or not to believe they were alone. But it was Eva who garnered most of the man's attention and Wolfgang tried to put out of his mind the unwanted image of the man fucking his sister.
"You look well," Fromme said with a sincere look. "I wondered what had become of you. It's been so long and with that business in Hamburg…"
"Did that bother you?" Eva asked, trying to gauge how much of the man was real and how much for show. She knew little about him, but enough to know that Fromme wasn't just some warehouse middleman shipping toasters.
"Hmmm…It was annoying," he shrugged. "But that's capitalism, yeah? Business has its ups and downs. I survived. You too, eh?"
"What do you mean?" Eva tilted her head.
"There are some people who would like to talk to you," Fromme told her. "From the East, you know? They very much want to meet the man who…How should I put it? Redecorated the bath in your old room?"
"I don't know who he was." Eva shrugged, leaning towards the man and wrinkling her nose playfully. "I was under the weather that night."
"Of course you were!" Fromme laughed, turning his eyes on Wolfgang. "You take good care of her, yeah? I like Eva more than I like the Russians, but there are some…"
"We'll be careful," Wolfgang agreed stiffly.
"More careful than today, I hope." Fromme lost his smile and his dark eyes were sharp like a rodent's. "What do you want from me?"
"Work," Eva said. "We need something to do. Some money."
"And what do you think I would have for you, Eva?" Fromme's smile returned as he faced the girl. "Your man can stack boxes, I suppose, but you…What could a girl like you do for me, I wonder?"
"Don't tease me, Oss." Eva sat back, crossing her legs and giving the man a frown. "I'm looking for a favor, that's all. Something good for us, something good for you."
"I'm doing you a favor right now," he said. "Too many more would not be healthy for either of us."
"Let's go," Wolfgang said softly.
"How much are the Russians paying?" Eva asked, ignoring Wolfgang. "To find Yuri's killer?"
"I'm not sure." Fromme narrowed his eyes. "A million rubles, I heard. Some twenty-five thousand Euros, give or take. Why?"
"I can give him to you," Eva said with a smile.
"Hmmm…" Fromme rocked slowly, his old chair screeching in protest. "This is why I love you, Eva…" he wagged a finger and laughed. "I never know what you're going to say."
"I'll give you the man," she said. "You give us something we can use."
"Okay," Fromme said after a long moment's thought, spreading his arms and glancing at Wolfgang. "Where is he?"
"In here," Eva told him, sliding her hand inside her purse and pulling out the pistol. She flicked the safety off and pointed the .45 at Fromme's chest.
"Ahhh…" He blinked at her as the color drained from his face.
"Oh. I'm sorry, Oss."
Eva laughed lightly, adjusting her grip on the weapon and pushing the magazine release so that it fell to land heavily on the desk. She worked the slide quickly, ejecting the round in the breech and sending it towards her brother. Wolfgang's quick hand snatched it out of the air and he gave her an amused look, setting the bullet on the desk as his sister locked the weapon open. Eva placed the gun in front of their host and leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face.
"Heh!" Fromme swallowed thickly and licked his lips. "Nice. Thank you for scaring the shit out of me…But, what is that supposed to mean?"
"It belonged to Yuri's man, the big one," Eva said. "I forget his name. He had blonde hair, always showing everyone his big American pistol…"
"Yeah yeah…" Fromme waved his hand. "I remember him. So?"
"He loved this gun," Eva grinned. "And whoever killed Yuri took it from him, so whoever has it…Don't you know anyone who might fit that description?"
"I see, yes…" Fromme leaned forward, picking up the Colt and turning it over in his hands. "They're not very common these days, are they? I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but I think I know someone with a gun exactly like this."
"Really?" Eva nodded slowly, giving Wolfgang a glance. He just widened his brown eyes and gave her a barely perceptible shake of his head, wondering where this idea had come from.
"Oh yes," Fromme sighed. "A very troublesome young man. Always asking for more money, you know? A bigger cut. I never trust the greedy ones."
"I don't blame you," Eva said, watching as the man took the pistol and the magazine, putting them both inside one of the drawers of his desk.
"You know," Fromme looked at Wolfgang, "your friend reminds me of this man. They have a similar look. But of course you're not a greedy man, are you Wolfgang?"
"No," Wolfgang said quietly, staring into the man's eyes. "I only want what's mine."
"So I see," Fromme said with a nod, turning back to Eva. "Alright. There's a man I know. He comes to Berlin every Tuesday morning, like clockwork on the train from Antwerp."
"Antwerp?" Wolfgang asked.
"How much do you know about diamonds?" Fromme smiled back at him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Edwin Brandt was much older than Eva remembered, as the man had to be given the nearly seventeen years since she'd last seen her father. But even Wolfgang remarked to himself how much the ex-Stasi member had changed after nearly three years imprisonment.
He'd escaped justice, if that's indeed what it was, for over a decade after the reunification of Germany. Edwin had disappeared like so many other East German officials into the anonymous chaos of a nation trying to rebuild itself. As a major in the former Ministry of State Security, he'd been able to secure for himself documents hiding his true past. He took a modest job and Edwin and his wife adjusted to their shifting fortunes. Wolfgang, their only child, had been only nine years old when the Wall came down and so it was easier for him. He knew nothing about his father's previous work and the arrest of his father some fourteen years later had come as a rude surprise.
"You will stay seated at all times. Do not attempt to touch him or give him anything. If he tries to give you something, do not take it. You will have fifteen minutes…"
Wolfgang and Eva listened patiently as the uniformed guard spoke, nodding their heads. They'd already been photographed and fingerprinted, catalogued into the database for persons wishing to visit criminals against the state. It was very much unlike visiting a murderer or thief, Edwin had been convicted of treason and political crimes against the German people. He and others like him were kept separate from the regular criminals, in a special prison outside Stuttgart. This was for their protection as even the worst criminals held nothing but hatred and contempt for ex-Stasi agents.
They sat at a large metal table fixed to the concrete floor in a room devoid of anything but cinderblock walls, surveillance cameras, and a two way mirror. Opposite Wolfgang and Eva was another chair, empty for five minutes until a manacled Edwin Brandt was shuffled into the room by two burly guards holding his arms. He was seated gently, they weren't rough with the man, and the guards moved back to stand near the door behind their prisoner.
"Wolfgang," the man breathed, swallowing thickly as his brown eyes searched his son's face.
"Hello, Father." Wolfgang tried to hide his frown. The man was barely fifty years old and he looked sixty, thin and pale. Edwin's face was deeply lined, almost haggard in appearance, and his shoulders were slumped, giving him a stooped and frail posture.
"And…" Edwin's eyes went to Eva, his eyes blinking rapidly as they grew suddenly wet. His voice cracked as he tried to say her name and he cleared his throat, grasping at some hidden reserve of strength.
"Eva," he said, stronger this time and nodding his head. "You're really here?"
"I'm here, Papa." Eva leaned into the table, stretching her arms towards the man, and though they were separated by two full meters, one of the guards shifted deliberately to catch her attention and remind the girl of the rules.
"You found her," Edwin looked at his son with a glimmer of paternal pride that Wolfgang remembered all too well.
"I saw your file," Wolfgang started to explain, but Edwin held up his chained hands to stop him.
"I'm sorry you have to see me this way. Both of you," Edwin sighed and he kept his eyes on Wolfgang. "They wouldn't let me go to the funeral."
"I know," Wolfgang replied.
"Was it…good? Was it nice for her?" Edwin asked and his son nodded.
"I took care of it, Father."
"And your mother?" Edwin turned his sad eyes on Eva.
"She's well, Papa." Eva tried to smile, wiping at her eyes. "I missed you so much. I thought you were dead. She told me you weren't, but I didn't believe her. You never came back."
"I know," Edwin nodded, taking a ragged breath. "It wasn't safe. I was…afraid. I'm sorry."
"Is it true?" Wolfgang asked, unable to wait any longer. "What they said about you?"
"Yes," Edwin answered softly. "I can't explain, but you must believe me, Wolfgang. I love Germany. I didn't betray…"
"No." Wolfgang shook his head.
"…my country," Edwin continued. "The truth is not life. Do you understand?"
"I do not," Wolfgang said. "You should have told me, Father. You should have trusted me."
"I was protecting you," Edwin said, shifting his eyes to Eva. "I was protecting both of you."
"You were using me," Wolfgang told him. "When I joined the police, and later, when I applied for GSG-9, do you remember? We celebrated. You were very happy for me…"
"Of course I was," Edwin said. "I was so proud of you, Wolfgang. You always made me happy."
"Did you think I would save you?" Wolfgang asked his father, clearly believing it was truth. "I would use my position to hide your crimes?"
"No!" Edwin said and then slapped his hands on the table. "Never! I never asked you…"
"Calm down, Herr Brandt…" one of the guards said and Edwin glanced over his shoulder.
"It was what you wanted," the old man said softly. "I did not suggest anything. I have only loved you."
"Don't be angry, Wolfgang," Eva whispered, putting her hand on her brother's thigh, squeezing him. "Please? Don't hurt him this way."
"I've lost my job," Wolfgang said coldly, staring across the table. "Everything I wanted since I was a little boy, my future, is in here. Locked up with you."
"I'm sorry." Edwin looked down, nodding his head and he seemed even more shrunken as he listened to his son.
"They dismissed me because of you. Because of your lies," Wolfgang continued, his voice louder. "My application was false. They didn't believe me when I told them I didn't know what my father had done. They don't trust me anymore."
"Wolfgang!" Eva clutched her brother's arm, shaking him. "Stop this!"
"Because of you, Father." Wolfgang ignored Eva, sitting stiff and upright, staring at his father's bowed head.
"I wish to leave now," Edwin said weakly. "Guards!"
"Papa! No. We have more time…" Eva frowned at the guards as they approached the man.
"It is nice to see you again, Eva." Edwin looked up and she could see his cheeks flushed and wet with tears, like her own. "I've longed for this day with dread in my heart…"
"…And with its arrival," her voice cracked and she tilted her head with trembling lips. "My dread doth depart."
"My good girl." Edwin nodded as the guards took him by the arms. "You remember."
"Yes, Papa." Eva wiped her face, trying to smile at the man. "I'll never forget anything you told me."
"Good," Edwin breathed, standing up between the guards. "I love you both. Don't…Don't come back. Please."
"Let's go, Herr Brandt…" The guards turned him towards the door.
"We love you," Eva whispered and when the door closed heavily behind their father she turned on her brother.
SLAP!
"Why? I hate you! Why did you do that?" Eva slapped his cheek again and then pressed herself against Wolfgang, burying her face into his chest as she began to sob uncontrollably.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Forty-eight hours later the phone rang in their Frankfurt am Main apartment. The place was modest and very comfortable, despite its outward appearance. The building itself was a reproduction of an original structure dating from the late 14th century. The once famous medieval city center had been destroyed during World War Two and had later been rebuilt with stone and thick timber to exacting specifications. The façade was painted white with brown trim while the interior was fresh and modern, with all the comforts one would expect.
Located in Altstadt and with a view of the river over lesser rooftops to the rear, it faced the medieval town square of Romerberg. The price was outlandish, even in the off-tourist season of late autumn, and Wolfgang, being practical by nature, had protested the expense. His sister had a different opinion however and looked upon their stay as an extended honeymoon.
The phone rang again and Eva scowled as Wolfgang left her.
"Yes?" he answered, unsure why anyone would be calling. The phone had come with the furnished apartment, which was the only reason they had one at all.
Eva looked over her shoulder, wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy black lace panties as she leaned over the balcony. It opened from the bedroom and sat five stories above a narrow street of cobblestone. On the opposite side was a shorter building, equally authentic in style, and home to a wonderful pastry shop. Across the dark tiled roof were more buildings, several blocks of them until her gaze reached the busy river Main with its barges and transports moving slowly. And beyond the river, in Neustadt, she could see the modern skyscrapers that set Frankfurt apart from so many other European cities.
"Wolfgang Brandt?" a man's voice asked through the receiver.
"Yes," he answered cautiously. "Who is this?"
"An old friend," the man said mysteriously. "I'm in town and I thought we could have lunch together. Is Eva with you?"
"Who is it?" Eva asked, catching her brother's eyes as he looked up suddenly.
"She is," Wolfgang replied. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your name."
"Do you know the Leinwandhaus? Perhaps we could meet there?" The man ignored Wolfgang's question. "Two o'clock?"
"What? Who are you?" he asked.
"Don't worry, Wolfgang," the voice reassured him. "I look forward to seeing the both of you again."
"Again?" Wolfgang asked, but the man had already disconnected and Wolfgang stared at the handset he was still holding.
"What is it?" Eva asked, crossing the bedroom. "What's wrong?"
"I'm not sure," Wolfgang replaced the phone in its cradle. "We've been invited to lunch."
"Lunch?" Eva smiled with confusion. "By who?"
"An old friend," Wolfgang answered, sucking his top lip pensively. "I didn't recognize his voice."
"Did he say what he wanted?" Eva asked and her brother shook his head.
"Two o'clock at the linen drapers' hall."
"The police you think?" Eva frowned.
"No," Wolfgang said. "They wouldn't be so polite if they wanted to arrest us."
"Perhaps they want to ask us questions?" Eva suggested, but neither of them thought the police had any suspicions. They were not hiding, as evidenced by their visit to their father.
"Someone else," he decided with a frown. "A friend of yours perhaps."
"Not Russian?" she asked him.
"No accent," Wolfgang said with a shrug.
Fromme had in fact been able to pass someone else off as Yuri's killer. The young man had denied it at first, of course, but eventually a man will confess to anything if it will make the pain go away. Fromme had been happy to collect a reward and Eva was no longer of much interest to the Russians. They had the satisfaction they'd been looking for. It had worked out well for all concerned, but the phone call was troubling and neither of them liked it.
"Dubert?" Eva wondered, but it was unlikely that anyone could tie them to his murder after all this time.
"I don't know," Wolfgang sighed, knowing that idle speculation would get them nowhere. He picked up his watch from an antique dresser. "We have a few hours," he said, looking at his sister. "What do you want to do?"
"Hmmm…" Eva smiled, sliding her palms up her flat stomach to her dark nipples.
"Silly question," Wolfgang breathed, feeling his heart quicken the way it did everytime she teased him like that.
He took her over an ornate chair of carved oak with Eva's knees spread wide on the red velvet cushion. She'd been off the heroin for two months and the young woman's body had recovered remarkably well. She had gained her weight back, mostly in the form of muscle, and rebounded from a little over forty kilos to a much more attractive 50 kilograms that better suited her 1.8m stature. She could even keep up with Wolfgang during his workouts, although he hadn't really started to push her quite yet.
"You're beautiful now," Wolfgang breathed, standing behind her and sliding his swollen cock in and out of the girl's sex.
"Ummm…Tease me…" Eva arched her back, enjoying Wolfgang's fingers as they explored the new muscles in her shoulders.
Her platinum blonde hair was shorter now, closely cropped on the sides and back, but Eva had kept it long on top and her bangs fell to her panting mouth. Her high cheeks were flushed pink and her blue eyes closed against the pleasure of their sex. Eva gripped the back of the chair tightly, using the heavy frame to push herself back and meet Wolfgang's hips with the soft slapping sound of flesh on flesh.
Wolfgang had let his hair grow out as well and it was a tangle of dark brown spilling over his ears and around his collar. He'd stopped shaving at Eva's insistence, not growing a full beard, but keeping a week's growth on his cheeks and chin, as if he were some Bohemian artist, or a drug dealer as his sister liked to joke. It was a good look for him and she thought it made Wolfgang look a little less like a law student, which was her most common and playful complaint.
"Up…I want you to cum…" Wolfgang urged his sister, putting his hands beneath her and pulling the girl upward by her breasts. They were small and firm and Wolfgang delighted in her long, swollen nipples every chance he had.
"Ohhh…Like…This…" Eva smiled over her shoulder, kneeling upright as Wolfgang pulled her back against his chest.
He moved his right hand low, across her hard stomach to find their wet union between her thighs. She was smooth down there, clean shaven and sticky with her juices. Wolfgang slid his fingers across the thin swell of her pubis and felt the turgid nub of Eva's clitoris and just beneath that his own thickness splitting her aroused labia.
Wolfgang played with her cunt while they fucked, rubbing her clit and pinching it against his shaft with his thumb. His other arm was wrapped around her chest, his left hand cupping Eva's right breast, the palm pressed hard against it the way she liked. The pressure felt good, the discomfort welcome as she twisted her own arms to hold Wolfgang's head and shoulders close. She was going to cum for him, the way she nearly always did, and not so much from what Wolfgang was doing to her physically as emotionally.
She loved him, and loved being held and touched and kissed. Eva loved the way he fucked her. As always the man was intent on making it good for her. Eva's sex tightened noticeably as she groaned with her orgasm, turning her face to find Wolfgang's mouth. She trembled while he continued to move against her, not withdrawing too far, but more grinding his cock against the feverish confines of Eva's cunt. He would cum soon as well, she could bring him off easily it seemed, whenever the girl wanted.
Eva laughed breathlessly, smiling and licking her lips as she watched Wolfgang's face. He was trying to hold himself back and she worked her pelvic muscles, tightening the mouth of her sex with a rhythm she'd long since perfected as a whore. Wolfgang was groaning with the effort of holding himself back, feeling the knot of desire low in his belly as he tried to last one moment more, and then he surrendered completely with a sharp gasp. His cock pulsed with a violent rush of semen deep inside Eva's sex, flooding her for the second time that morning with his incestuous seed.
Their sex had been too brief, only five minutes perhaps, and they were reluctant to break their union. Wolfgang kept himself buried inside her, kissing Eva while he massaged her breasts and played his fingertips around her dripping sex. The juices leaked around his cock as it began to soften and shrink and eventually slip from the girl's gaping cunt with a sticky wash of their combined cum. He fingered Eva's hole, pushing two fingers inside to feel himself coating the soft walls of her pussy.
"Open…" he whispered, bringing his hand to her mouth, sliding his fingers between Eva's parted lips and across her tongue. She washed the juices with her tongue, sucking at the salty flavor of their sex and moaning for his pleasure. The scent of their combined arousal was intoxicating and when Wolfgang's fingers were clean she kissed him, pushing her tongue into his mouth to eagerly share what she hadn't swallowed.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=
"It's a public place anyway," Wolfgang said as he adjusted the knot in his tie.
As much as Eva tried to change her brother's habits, she couldn't talk him out of his taste in clothing. At least he had a better selection now; after fencing the diamonds the couple had spent several thousand dollars on a small, but decent wardrobe. She did have to admit that the man looked good in a well tailored suit, navy blue in this case and made of gabardine wool.
"Is that for us, do you think?" Eva wondered. "Or for him?"
"Both, I'd imagine," Wolfgang said, combing his fingers through his damp hair, pushing it back from his smooth brow.
"Hmmm…" Eva was straightening her dress, a form fitting Gaultier suit in thin, black leather. It was worn with a leather jacket, rather than something more conventional like a blazer. The design was straight from the eighties and punk-couture was becoming once again popular in Germany.
Wolfgang checked his Glock 29, ejecting the magazine and clearing the breech. He reloaded it while Eva did the same with her pistol, a 9mm Walther P5. The pistol was small and carried only an eight round magazine, but it fit easily into her purse and being left handed, Eva liked the unusual left side ejection that the gun used. She had a suppressor for it, a baffled tube that she zipped inside the long outer pocket of her bag. Wolfgang put his own weapon away, tucked in the shoulder harness beneath his suit and indiscernible thanks to the creative and discrete tailoring afforded by their modest wealth.
"Are you ready?" Wolfgang looked at his watch. "We have forty minutes."
"Yeah." Eva nodded, arranging her passport and other papers in her purse.
They'd leave nothing in the apartment that they couldn't afford to lose if they had to run unexpectedly. Thankfully that was largely their weapons, papers, and some ten thousand Euros cash. The remainder of their money was in a small suitcase, in a baggage check at the Hauptbahnhof train station where Wolfgang's Audi was parked.
The Leinwandhaus, or linen drapers' hall, was one of the old city's many tourist attractions and while there weren't so many foreigners on holiday as the summer months would bring, there were several busses parked nearby. Hundreds of school children on a field trip were filling the nearby square. Some of them obediently filing behind their teachers, many more were left to explore the many shops and souvenir and sweets laden kiosks. The day was pleasant and bright, though with a chilly breeze that would gust every few minutes and tousle Eva's hair into her face. She stopped at a small stand and bought a pair of sunglasses, giving Wolfgang a little grin as she put them on.
The couple walked slowly together, moving casually and smiling and sharing softly spoken words. Their eyes were never still, however, never fixed as they catalogued their surroundings. The drapers' hall was a large stone building dating from the thirteenth century and had been the very center of the German textile industry for hundreds of years before being gradually replaced with larger, newer structures as technology progressed.
Around it were the same narrow buildings crowded shoulder to shoulder as the rest of Altstadt, and behind any one of a hundred windows someone could be watching them. There was little Eva and Wolfgang could do about that, but at least their very public surroundings did lend them a small sense of security. There were many avenues of escape, should it come to that, and they'd worked out plans in case they were separated.
"Do you want to sit for a minute?" Wolfgang asked half an hour later, after making their wary circuit of the square and seeing nothing that struck either of them as overly suspicious.
"Yes," Eva agreed, looking down at her leather heels and one of the ankle straps had come loose. "Next time I'll wear my running shoes, yeah?"
"Hmph," Wolfgang smiled as they sat down at a sidewalk café. A colorful awning ruffled with the wind and it was much cooler in the shade. A pink faced girl took their order for coffee and there was little the pair could do but wait for someone to approach them.
"Herr Brandt," a man smiled at Wolfgang. "Coffee. What an excellent idea! Do you mind if I join you?"
"Please…" Wolfgang gestured to an empty chair.
He was young, perhaps the same age as Wolfgang or a little older, but not yet thirty. His black hair was thick and neat, parted to the right side above a strong, handsome face. He had a congenial smile, showing off his pearly white teeth, and he was giving it to Eva as he crossed his legs comfortably with his hands in his lap.
"Eva, yes? May I see your eyes?" the man asked her. "I've only heard rumors about them, you see."
"What is your name?" Eva asked, removing her dark sunglasses and folding them. She blinked for a moment and then held her gaze steady, giving him an icy blue stare.
"Yes. Exactly as I'd imagined," he said softly, nodding his head in appreciation and then seemed to catch himself. "I'm sorry. Forgive me. I'm Kurt Glauss. This is very awkward, I know. You must be very curious."
"What can we do for you, Herr Glauss?" Wolfgang asked, turning the man's head as Eva put her glasses inside the purse on her lap, leaving her hand on top of it.
"Please, call me Kurt," he said. "I thought you would be more comfortable meeting me here. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not," Wolfgang said as the waitress approached and they waited until after Kurt had ordered.
"I represent a small concern who would very much like to make your acquaintance," Kurt said.
"A concern?" Wolfgang wondered. "Is that a business?"
"In a manner of speaking," the man agreed. "I'm sure you'll understand if I don't go into detail at this time. My employer can much better explain. I have a car waiting, in fact. It isn't far."
"You want us to go with you?" Wolfgang asked, glancing at Eva who offered no expression.
"You may be reluctant. I sympathize completely." Kurt smiled, looking back and forth between them and then at the waitress as she delivered a cup of coffee for him.
"If it will be easier for you," he continued after the girl was gone, "I can remain here, with yourself or Eva, while one of you meets my employer."
"A hostage?" Eva looked at the man, her thin lips curling upward.
"A gruesome word, isn't it?" Kurt chuckled. "A guarantee. A show of good faith, if you like."
"And if we're not interested in meeting this employer of yours?" Wolfgang asked.
"Then we have little else to talk about." Kurt shrugged. "We will go our separate ways and you'll never hear from my employer again."
"Is this a job offer?" Eva wondered.
"You may think so," Kurt said pleasantly. "An interview, certainly. Beyond that I don't know anything specific."
"I'll meet this man," Wolfgang decided. "Eva will stay here with you."
"Splendid." Kurt looked at Eva and smiled, tilting his head to see the girl threading a dark suppressor onto the barrel of her Walther beneath the tablecloth. She gave it a sharp twist and looked at the man with a smile of her own.
"Are you armed, Herr Glauss?" she asked him softly and the man lifted his hands a few centimeters off the table.
"At the risk of offending you, I must confess that I'm completely at your mercy," he said with sigh. "Of course, if you must insist…"
"I must," Eva said with an apologetic smile, placing the weapon carefully in her purse so it could be quickly drawn. "Shall we take a walk?"
"Very good," Kurt agreed, removing his wallet to pay the bill. "My car is this way."
Rounding the corner and away from the throng of school children and tourists, Eva gave the man a gentle push towards a small alcove where a stairway led upward. She frisked Glauss quickly with her right hand, holding her pistol against his ribs with the other. Kurt didn't protest, but merely waited patiently as the woman's hands roamed his body.
"What is this?" Eva chuckled when she found the man's penis growing obviously erect in his trousers.
"It must be your eyes, Fraulein," Kurt grinned over his shoulder as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "Forgive me."
"Is he clean?" Wolfgang asked, standing on the sidewalk and keeping an eye on both Eva and the street.
"Clean? No…But unarmed anyway," Eva replied, drawing a curious look from her brother and a playful pout from Glauss. She replaced her pistol in her purse, leaving it unzipped as it hung low from her left shoulder.
The car was a black Mercedes sedan with dark tinted windows and the driver was waiting when Kurt opened the rear passenger door. Wolfgang noted the S plates, signifying the car had been licensed in Stuttgart and he wondered about that. The entire episode made him uneasy, largely because he understood so little of it.
"You'll be alright?" Wolfgang asked Eva and she nodded.
"I'll bring him to the apartment and wait for your call," she said.
"Will I be able to call?" he asked Glauss.
"I'm sure you will," Kurt said agreeably. "You won't be a prisoner, Herr Brandt. I assure you."
"Very well," Wolfgang said with a nod. "Be careful."
"I love you," Eva whispered, stepping back with Glauss as Wolfgang entered the car and pulled the door closed behind him. A moment later the engine started with a soft growl and the Mercedes pulled away from the curb, merging easily into the light traffic.
"Well. Now that we're alone…May I call you Eva?" Kurt asked with a smile and she rolled her eyes.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
"Put this on," the driver said, holding a blindfold over his shoulder. It was of the sort people wear when they wish to sleep.
"Seriously?" Wolfgang almost smiled as he took it from the man's fingers.
"Are you carrying a weapon, Herr Brandt?" the other man asked as he started the car.
"Yes," Wolfgang said.
"Very well," the driver nodded, checking traffic before pulling away. "Put the blindfold on."
"Right," Wolfgang sighed. "Wake me up when we get there."
The drive was a long one, although without looking at his watch Wolfgang could only guess at the passing minutes. He was surprised to find he actually did nap, or at least fall into the murky depths of half-sleep while the car rolled smoothly along. It all seemed rather over-dramatic to him, but Wolfgang took that as a good sign. Why would anyone go through all this trouble if he wanted to kill them? Something else was afoot and Wolfgang had no desire to try and guess what it might be.
"You may remove your blindfold now," the driver said. "We're almost there."
Wolfgang blinked at the late afternoon sunlight as he looked through the tinted glass, seeing only trees on either side of a narrow road. A few seconds later, through a break in the forest he saw a large house, a country estate on the side of a wooded hill. There was an expanse of lawn and hedgerows alongside ancient stone walls. He lost sight of it again until the road turned and emerged from the forest and Wolfgang realized the lane they were traveling had only one destination. It wasn't a road, it was a very long driveway ending at what must have been a carriage house during much of the estate's history.
The car stopped alongside several other vehicles that were parked somewhat haphazardly. Another man was already opening the door before Wolfgang could reach for the handle. The driver turned off the engine and twisted his head and shoulders to look at his passenger.
"You may leave your weapon here," the driver said. "On the seat. No one with bother it."
"Do I have a choice?" Wolfgang wondered rhetorically, eying the Heckler and Koch MP7 hanging by a shoulder strap on the man outside.
"Not if you wish to leave the car," the driver replied without humor.
"Very well," Wolfgang agreed, removing his pistol slowly and placing it on the seat next to him.
"If you'll follow me, Herr Brandt," the man holding the passenger door said. "Herr Mozart is expecting you."
"Mozart?" Wolfgang smiled. "This just gets better and better."
There were other men providing security around the house and grounds, Wolfgang noted. He saw at least three more men armed with MP7 submachine guns and doubtlessly there were others, concealed from plain sight. Whoever this Mozart was, he certainly seemed to be a cautious man and a wealthy one, judging from the house.
Wolfgang was certainly no expert, but the mansion must have been at least three hundred years old. It was constructed of stone and wood, with thick ivy growing high along the façade. Inside the mansion, the floor was marble and the walls and ceilings decorated in the Baroque style that had become fashionable in Germany during the 18th century. It was all very impressive to a man who had grown up in post-Stalin East Berlin where style was literally a word without definition.
"Wolfgang," a man said, looking up from the oversized desk at which he was sitting.
He was old, in his sixties perhaps or even older than that, with thinning white hair and a pinched face. Not a big man, but not small either, merely comfortable with the weight of his years. His eyes were clear and coldly gray behind his reading glasses, which the man promptly removed. He didn't smile, but there was an affection to his countenance that offered the suggestion of pleasure.
"Thank you," he waved a liver spotted hand at the man who'd escorted Wolfgang into what appeared to be a study. "Close the door please…" He looked at Wolfgang. "Would you like a drink? Brandy perhaps?"
"Yes. Thank you," Wolfgang said, standing awkwardly near the center of the room.
It was a comfortable place with dark wood paneling and thick Persian carpets on the floor, their intricate designs at odds with the bas relief tiles and fixtures that decorated the walls and ceiling. A fireplace burned warm and freshly fed with several thick logs. Near it were several chairs, obviously old and very plush with satin cushions. One long wall was entirely consumed by books, hundreds of them. On another wall were several paintings, all of them beautiful, but the only one immediately recognizable to Wolfgang was a Picasso that he'd seen once before.
"The Acrobat's Family. The one in Goteborg is a reproduction," the man said, "while this one is…on loan. Do you like art, Wolfgang?"
"Some of it. This is a nice room," Wolfgang replied, walking towards the old man and the large cabinet he'd opened to reveal a bar inside it.
"Hmmm…" He made a noncommittal sound and smiled at Wolfgang. "It's a little overdone for me, but it's the warmest room in the whole damn house."
"Ah." Wolfgang smiled at that and accepted a glass of brandy.
"Do you know who I am? Let's sit by the fire," the man said. "I was hoping Eva would be here as well."
"Herr Mozart, I presume," Wolfgang said.
"I used to work with your father," the man said, once they were both seated at angles to each other and the fireplace. "Or I should say, he worked for me once and for many years."
"You're Stasi?" Wolfgang asked and then frowned at himself. "If you'll forgive my bluntness."
"Understandable." Mozart shrugged. "I was the section chief for Department 13 in the old days. Counter-intelligence."
"Alright," Wolfgang said. "You're telling me that's where my father worked as well?"
"Just so," the man agreed. "It was good work. Your father especially had a talent for it. He was very skilled."
"My father is in prison for treason."
"And you wonder why I am not, eh?" Mozart nodded. "That's why I have to play these silly games. I tried to get your father out, to come work with me again. But after the Wall came down, he wanted something else. Like Germany, he wanted to be reunified. He wanted to be…reconciled and forget the past."
"What work is it that you do, Herr Mozart?"
"What I've always done, Wolfgang. I protect Germany," he replied, fixing his eyes on the fire and speaking slowly. "That's what they don't understand. Men like me, like your father, we didn't betray our country. We were patriots."
"By collaborating with the communists?" Wolfgang shook his head. "How many innocent people died because of men like you? Men like my father, Herr Mozart?"
"There is blood," he said softly and turned his face to Wolfgang. "Germany has always bled. For the Kaiser. For Versailles. For Hitler and then for Stalin and the Americans and all the rest. We have bled for a thousand unjust reasons, Wolfgang. Yes. And there is blood on these hands, you are right. But how much more would there be if every man in East Germany had resisted? We were occupied by the enemy, abandoned by the West, and our survival depended on cooperation."
"I don't believe that," Wolfgang said.
"Many don't," Mozart snorted. "But neither can they offer an alternative. East Germany was not Afghanistan. We served Germany first and Russia only so far as it would gain their trust. We chose our battles carefully and made difficult sacrifices for the good our people. It wasn't easy. It was never pleasant."
"So all of this is merely a misunderstanding," Wolfgang said, his voice filled with sarcasm. "You and my father and all the others are heroes. Is that it?"
"Not all of us, Wolfgang," Mozart said patiently. "I'm no hero, but perhaps your father is, and there were also traitors. Those who did betray Germany, who grew fat off her blood like leeches. The politicians, others in the government and in the communist party. They deserve what they get and I've provided a great deal of information on their activities to our government over the years."
"How's that?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes.
"I was the head of counter-intelligence," Mozart shrugged. "My files were…extensive."
"Did you give them my father?"
"No! No, I did not," the old man said sharply. "When I heard of his troubles, I tried very hard to bring him out. I wanted him to leave Germany, but he refused."
"Why?"
"Because of you, Wolfgang," Mozart said, sounding as if it were obvious. "Because of your mother. He wanted you to grow up in Germany. It's the only thing that matters to man like him. He's very proud of you and now I understand why."
"I don't understand," Wolfgang said, taking a swallow of brandy.
"You're a good man. A good German. What you've done takes balls!" Mozart growled loudly, holding his hand in a fist before relaxing with a smile and lowering his voice. "More than those fools in the Interior Ministry have, certainly. I admire you very much."
"What I've done?" Wolfgang frowned. "I was dismissed from the Bundespolizei in disgrace…"
"No. I'm talking about Friedrich Dubert," Mozart said with a satisfied smile as he watched the reaction on Wolfgang's face. "You did what needed to be done and you were efficient. You were cautious. That's good. Anger is useful, but only when harnessed."
"I don't know what you mean."
"And the Russian?" Mozart chuckled. "You know exactly what I mean and that's why you're here. I need a man like you. Germany, Wolfgang, needs a man like you."
"How do you know about what I've done?" Wolfgang asked softly, feeling the adrenaline his sudden apprehension was feeding him.
"I've had you under surveillance since you're dismissal from GSG-9," Mozart told him. "A prudent move, I suppose, but a mistake on their part nonetheless."
"Why would you do that?" Wolfgang wondered, trying to grasp what the man had just told him.
"There are several reasons. For one, I promised your father I would keep an eye on you. For another, I had plans to recruit you, sooner or later. And finally…" the old man shrugged, "…I wanted to see what you would do under the circumstances. Adversity is always a good test of character."
"You've been following me for a year?" Wolfgang gave the man a wry smile. "Why call me in now? Why wait so long?"
"The diamond merchant," Mozart sighed. "That was rather…unbecoming, shall we say? You're not a common criminal, Wolfgang, and I'll protect you. Your secrets are safe, but I won't see you going down that way. I won't let you betray your father's sacrifice, do you see?"
Wolfgang said nothing for several moments and finally the old man stood up stiffly, reaching for a poker to prod the fire.
"I can offer you work. You and your…wife? Sister?" Mozart smiled. "Let's just call her Eva. It will not always be easy and it will not always be clean. But I will promise you that it will always be for Germany."
"Who are you?" Wolfgang asked as the man replaced the poker and turned around.
"Call Eva and ask her to join us," Mozart told him. "Kurt has a car waiting in Frankfurt. You'll be my guests and I'll make it clear to both of you."
"Why should we trust you?" Wolfgang asked, feeling overwhelmed and cornered.
"You shouldn't," Mozart said with a weary smile. "But that too is the business we are in, is it not? The phone is on the desk. If you'll excuse me I must retire for a few hours. I'm not so young as I used to be."
"Of course," Wolfgang said automatically, rising from his chair. "How do you know I won't call the police?" he asked. "I could call GSG-9 and have the phone traced. They could be here in an hour to get you."
"They could," Mozart agreed, clearing his throat. "If they wanted me."
"You're not hiding here?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes. "I thought you said…"
"I work for the Chancellor, Wolfgang. I serve Germany, just as I always have. That's what I've been telling you." The old man clapped his guest on the shoulder. "It's good you're here. I'll see you at dinner."