rapidly the right-wing and nationalist factions in the West consolidate

their power.  Think about it.  For twenty years the Stasi supplied the

Red Army Faction and other left-wing terrorists with guns and plastique.

Why?  Just to create chaos?  No.  Because every time those misguided

hotheads blew up a bank or an airport lounge, the right wing in the West

hit back a little bit harder.  The public reaction got a little stiffer.

I'm telling you, Hans, it's a sound strategy.  Moscow has never been

more lenient than it is right now.  The entire Eastern Bloc is restless.

Trouble and sedition are brewing everywhere.  And East Germany is the

most independent satellite of all.  The Stasi monitors everything there:

student unrest, political volatility, economic stress, plus they have

that rarest of all commodities, direct intelligence lines into Russia.

I think Der Bruderschaft-and whoever controls it-believes that a strong

enough chancellor in West Germany could seize the right opportunity and

wrench the two Germanys back together.'  Hauer was breathing hard.

'And by God, they may be right.'

Hans stared, fascinated.  'Is the Stasi really as powerful as people

say?  I've heard they have hundreds of informers here and in Bonn.'

Hauer chuckled.  'Hundreds?  Try thousands.  If I had the files from

Stasi headquarters, I could break half the political careers in West

Germany and a good many in Moscow.  I mean that.  Some of our most

powerful senators are actually on the Stasi payroll.  Funk is just small

beer.'

Hans was shaking his head.  'Do you really believe all this?'

Hauer shrugged.  'I don't know.  One minute I believe every word of it,

the next I wonder if schnapps has pickled my brain.  When I stand in

those Bruderschaft meetings, I want to laugh.  Funk and his rabble are

just grown-up children fantasizing about a Fourth Reich.

It's classic infantile bullshit.  Germany will be united again, don't

doubt it.  But not by drunk policemen or skinheads.  It's the bankers

and board chairmen who'll bring it off.  Men from the world your mother

worshipped.  We're the richest country in Europe now, Hans, and anything

can be bought for a price.  Even a united Germany.'

Hauer tugged at his mustache.  'The question is this: is there a

connection between Der Bruderschaft and those bankers and board

chairmen?  And if so, what is it?  How much power does Phoenix exert

over the institutions in Germany?  The Stasis potential for blackmail is

formidable.

Funk's group may seem like clowns, but no matter how you look at it, the

Polizei are an arm of the state.'

Hans look confused.  'But how could all this tie in with the Spandau

papers?  With Ilse?'

'Bruderschaft der Phoenix, remember?  Phoenix was mentioned in the

Spandau papers, therefore it ties Funk and the Stasi to the papers.

Your hooker friend said Russians came looking for you and chased Ilse.

The Russians went on the rampage when you discovered the Spandau papers.

Do the Russians know about Phoenix?  Maybe they've infiltrated Der

Bruderschaft through the Stasi.  Maybe they suspect the Stasis role in a

grab for reunification.  What the hell is Phoenix?  A man?  A group of

men?  At one Bruderschaft meeting I heard Funk-who was drunk out of his

mind-babbling about how Phoenix was going to change the world, make

everything right again, clean out the Jews and the Turks once and for

all.  But when I tried to pump him, Lieutenant Luhr shut him up.'

Hauer shifted in the small chair.  'Whatever Phoenix is, I'm almost

certain it's based outside Germany.  About a month ago, Steuben started

noticing calls going out from Funk to different towns in South Africa. I

assumed it was more drug business, looking for new markets, et cetera.

But I don't think that anymore.  Hans, I think you have dredged up

something so politically hot that we @an't even imagine it.

I hope Ilse managed to get those papers to Wolfsburg, but @hether she

did or not, we won't get out of Berlin by driving your VW through

Checkpoint Charlie.  We've got to take precautions, make arrangements.

People owe me@' 'Pardon me,' said a soft voice from the shadows.

Hauer turned in his chair.  Benjamin Ochs stood silhouetted against the

lighted hall door.  'Forgive me,' he said, 'but the shouting alarmed my

wife.  Could I join you for a moment?'  The old man shuffled into the

kitchen and took a seat at the table.  He poured a brandy into one of

the unused tumblers his wife had set down earlier, drank it, then wiped

his mouth on his pajama sleeve.  'I know what you're thinking, Captain,'

he said.  'How Much did the old goat hear, yes?

Well, I'll tell you.  I didn't hear everything, but I heard enough.  I

wish I'd heard damned all.  What I heard ... God help us.

You never said it, but I know what you were talking about.  Are you

afraid to say it?'

'I'm not sure what you mean,' Hauer said.

'Nazis!'  Ochs cried, his wizened head shaking.  'That's what you're

talking about.  Isn't it?  And not just a pack of hooligans desecrating

Jewish cemeteries.  You're talking about policemen-professional men,

bankers, board chairmen!'

'You misunderstood, Herr Ochs.  It's not so bad as that.'

'Captain, it's probably worse than that.  Don't you know what the

Phoenix is?  It's the bird that perishes in the fire only to be reborn

from its ashes.'  The old tailor drew himself up to his full height.

'I am a Jew, Captain, a German Jew.  Before the war there were 160,000

of us here in Berlin.

Now we are 7,000.  I was not a child during the war.  While you hunted

scraps in the streets, I existed in a place you cannot imagine.

Beyond hope, outside of time.  I lost my entire family-parents, brother,

two sisters-at this place.  While they passed into oblivion, I sewed

uniforms for the German Army.  I lived while my family died.  I promise

you Captain, no uniforms were ever more poorly made than those Benjamin

Ochs made for the Wehrmacht.  Every bit of skill I had went into

producing a uniform that would last just long enough to get a soldier to

the frozen Russian front, then fall into pieces fit only for a shroud.'

Ochs raised his withered hand.  'If you protect such men, Captain, I

tell you now to get out of my house.  Now!  But if you mean to fight

them .  . .

then let me help you.  Tell me what you need.'

Hans sat speechless, but Hauer lost no time taking advantage of his

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