'Sir!' Again the boots fired, and Smuts disappeared.
In spite of his frustration, Horn smiled wistfully. A jungfrau, he
thought, a true daughter of the Fatherland My God, how long has it been
since I spoke with a German woman who wasn't raised in this savage
country?
'Pieter!' he called suddenly.
Smuts raced back into the room, a Beretta pistol in his hand.
'I'm sorry,' Horn apologized, 'I spoke too loudly. More wood for the
fire, that's all. My joints are driving me mad.'
Smuts holstered his weapon. 'Yes, sir.'
Without hesitation, a man who had commanded troops with distinction
across half the African continent marched to a woodpile less than a yard
from his employer's chair, added a fresh log to the fire, and stoked the
flames beneath it.
'How's that, sir?'
'Fine, Pieter. Fine.' Horn slumped back into his padded wheelchair and
there, motionless until dawn, slept the sleep of the saved.
1.50 AW. Togel Airfield, West Berlin
'Wing tanks full,' the pump jockey said, screwing down the tank cap. He
scurried down the hydraulic ladder and onto the tarmac of the fueling
area. 'On account?' he asked.
Handsomely dressed in a tailored gray suit, Lieutenant Jijrgen Luhr
nodded curtly, then marched up the ramp that fed into the belly of the
sleek Lear turbojet. On the plush carpeted floor of the passenger
cabin, trussed from head to toe with industrial tape, Ilse Apfel
struggled desperately to breathe.
'Try to relax, Frau Apfel,' Luhr said. 'The trip will be much more
comfortable for us both.'
With great difficulty Ilse inclined her head toward the blond policeman
and glared. She hoped defiance would mask the abject terror squirming
in her stomach. One hour ago she had been forced to watch this insane
lieutenant drag a knife across the throat of Sergeant Josef Steuben.
Ilse had never met Steuben, but she had vomited from sheer horror.
And beneath the horror, she cursed herself for her stupidity.
How could she have walked right into the arms of these ruthless animals?
'It's useless to struggle,' Luhr advised. 'I would have preferred more
subtle measures myself, but I'm told that our host is opposed to the use
of drugs. Quite ironic, considering the source of some of his income.'
Luhr tapped a small syringe against his armrest. 'I'm sure this has all
been a shock to you,' he said, 'but it's only the result of your
husband's stupidity. However, in spite of that-and for reasons quite
beyond my understanding-you, as well as 1, are to be granted a great
opportunity. Tomorrow we're going to meet the man who owns this jet. It
is a great honor.' Luhr chuckled to himself. 'Or so I've been led to
believe.'
The walls of the Lear thrummed as the engines spooled up for the taxi
run.
'Still,' he said, 'I don't think we need all that constricting tape.'
Ilse struggled harder. Luhr grinned..'You're sure you wouldn't like a
little sedative? We have a long flight ahead.' He stood carefully,
holding his head sideways beneath the low cabin ceiling. He towered
over Ilse on the floor. 'Although,' he said heavily, 'I think we might
arrange some interesting inflight diversions.'
As if about to relieve himself, Luhr unzipped his trousers and withdrew
a large, uncircumcised penis. While Ilse stared in disgust, he tugged
himself eagerly, watching her reaction.
She wasn't frightened by the sight of his organ-most Berlin girls have
seen their share of male anatomy-it was his eyes.
In a single instant all humanity had gone out of them. As the grunting
lieutenant r)ulled at himself, his blue eyes burned not with lust, but
@with blind, furious hatred. Jiirgen Luhr wanted to do more than rape
Ilse-he @anted to kill her-to rape her to death if he could.
She shut her eyes tight and forced her mind away from this place, back
to a time just after she and Hans were married. They had gone to Munich
to visit Hans's mother, at a small Pfahlbauten on the long silver lake
outside the city.
Frau Jaspers, n6e Apfel, had @een bitchy, but Hans and Ilse had spent
hours together on the water, paddling a small boat and 'You think you
can handle this?' Luhr rasped, brandishing his organ. 'You're going to
get it ways you never even dreamed about-' Suddenly the plane lurched,
forward. Luhr lost his balance and fell back into his seat, laughing
wildly. Ilse struggled in vain against the tape, trapped like a living
mummy. Putting himself back into his trousers, Luhr leaned back in his
seat and sighed deeply. 'Plenty of time for that,' he muttered.
The madness had faded from his eyes. He leisurely raised a gleaming
boot and prodded Ilse's bottom, then laughed again.
The Learjet reached its assigned runway and paused, engines shuddering,
pointed east like a porcelain arrow. The legend on its tail read
LASERTEK, but this company was merely a tiny division in the
labyrinthine network of subsidiaries owned by Horn Intercomm, a holding
company on the outer edges of a vast but nebulous corporate entity known
as Phoenix AG. This familial relationship was symbolized by a small
design painted on the nosecone of the Lear. The single, gracefully
curved, blood red eye stared down the runway from the port side of the
Lear with a strange awareness, as if it, and not the pilot, would guide
the plane on its long journey south.
Inside the pressurized cabin, Luhr held Ilse in place with his boot as
the jet screamed into the night sky. The flight plan filed in the Tegel
tower designated the Lear as Flight 116, destination London.
But as soon as the sleek jet faded from Tegel's main radar screen, it
would dive and race southward to a remote airfield in Turkey.
Another subsidiary of Phoenix AG maintained extensive holdings in the
Antalya province, among them a surprisingly well-equipped airstrip on a
farm near Dashar. This company fostered extremely cordial relations
with the provincial government officials, who often made use of Phoenix
jets to take 'fact-finding' excursions to the pleasure capitals of
Europe.
After the Lear left Dashar, it would no longer have a Right number or
plan, and its destination would be a matter into which only the most
