right had been “The Herr Oberst’s Apartment,” twice the size and with one more bedroom that had been converted into sort of a library with conference table.
Everyone still referred to it as The Herr Oberst’s Apartment, but it was now where Castillo was housed. Enough of the Herr Oberst’s furniture had been moved out to accommodate Karlchen’s bed and childhood possessions. The furniture removed had gone into the smaller apartment, which was now referred to as “Onkel Billy’s Apartment.”
Castillo had wondered idly who had made the decision for the change, but had never been curious enough to ask.
He remembered that now—
“I hated to run the boys off that way,” Castillo said as he waved everybody into chairs around the conference table. “But I didn’t think they should hear this.”
“Who was on the phone, Ace?” Delchamps asked as he sat down and pushed toward Castillo an ashtray that had been made from a large boar’s foot.
“The name Tom Barlow mean anything to anybody?” Castillo asked as he found, bit the end off, and then carefully lit a cigar.
When everyone had shrugged or shaken his head or said no—or various combinations thereof—Castillo continued: “This guy told the maid—probably in German—that he was from our embassy in Berlin and wanted to speak to Gossinger. When I got on the line, he asked me—in German, Berliner’s accent—if I was Gossinger, and then, when I said I was, he switched to English—American, perfect, sounded midwestern—called me Colonel Castillo, said his name was Tom Barlow, and that he hated to call but thought I would be interested to learn that an attempt will be made on my life—and on Otto’s and Billy’s—during the Friedler funeral.”
“My God!” Gorner said.
“I asked him how the embassy came into this information, and he said that the embassy didn’t know. Then I asked him how he knew. And he said because he had ordered the hits, and that he would explain that when we met, and that I should be careful as the hitters are ex-Stasi and good at what they do.”
“Why do I think we’ve just heard from the SVR?” Edgar Delchamps said. “I wonder what they’re up to.”
“You think this threat is credible?” Gorner asked. “That the SVR is involved?”
“I think it’s credible enough for us to stay away from the funeral,” Castillo said.
“Prefacing this by saying I’m going to Gunther Friedler’s services,” Billy Kocian said, “what I think they’re up to, Edgar, is trying to frighten us, and I have no intention of giving them that satisfaction.” He paused and looked at Castillo. “There will be police all over, Karl. The SVR is not stupid. They are not going to spray the mourners with submachine gun fire or detonate a bomb in Saint Elisabeth’s.”
“Uncle Billy has a point, Ace,” Delchamps said.
“Karl, what I think we should do is contact the police,” Gorner said, “the Bundeskriminalamt. . . .”
“Otto,” Castillo said, “we’re pressed for time. We don’t have time to convince the local cops or the Bundeskriminalamt that there even is a threat. All we have is the telephone call to me. And I’m not about to tell the local cops, much less the Bundeskriminalamt, that this guy called Gossinger is really ‘Colonel Castillo.’ And unless I did, they would decide that all we have is a crank call from some lunatic.”
“So what do you suggest?” Gorner replied.
“The first thing we do is circle the wagons.”
“What?” Gorner asked.
“Set up our own defense perimeter,” Castillo said. “Protect ourselves. Everybody’s here but the FBI. Now, we don’t know if these people know about Yung and Doherty, but we have to presume they do. So the first thing we do is get them out of the Europaischer Hof.”
“Get them out to where?” Kocian asked.
“Someplace in the open,” Castillo said. “Where we can meet them and where we can see people approaching.” He paused and then went on: “I think Billy’s right. We should not let these bastards think they’ve scared us. Which means we will go to Saint Elisabeth’s. You game for that, Otto?”
“Of course,” Gorner said firmly after hesitating just long enough to make Castillo suspect he really didn’t think that was such a good idea.
“The boys and Helena?” Kocian asked.
“Surrounded by our security people,” Castillo said. “Not sitting with us. We have reserved seats?”
“Of course,” Gorner said. “But I can change the arrangements for them.”
“Okay. Now, what we need is a place in the open not too far from Saint Elisabeth’s where we can meet. Suggestions?”
No one had any suggestions.
Finally, Castillo had one: “Otto, you know the place, the walk, just below the castle? That’s open, not far from the church. . . .”
Gorner nodded.
“That’d do it,” he said.
“How quick can we get our security people over to the Europaischer Hof to take Yung and Doherty there?” Castillo asked. “They’re armed, right?”
“Yes, of course they’re armed,” Gorner said. “And I can call the supervisor.”
He reached for the telephone on the table and began to punch numbers from memory.
“That raises the question of weapons for us,” Castillo said. He looked around the table and asked, “Weapons?”
Everybody shook his head.
“This is Otto Gorner,” Gorner said into the telephone. “Who’s in charge?”
“It would take a couple of hours to get the weapons from the Gulfstream,” Jake Torine said. “Presuming we could smuggle them off the airfield.”
“So that’s out,” Castillo said. “Damn!”
“Hunting weapons here, Charley?” Davidson asked. “Rifles, shotguns, anything?”
“There’s a cut-down single-shot Winchester .22 rifle in the wardrobe. Or there was the last time I looked. I didn’t see any cartridges.” Castillo paused in deep thought, listened as Gorner finished his call, then said: “We have to get weapons from someplace. Otto, does the security service or whatever you call it have some sort of arsenal we can get into?”
Gorner didn’t answer directly. Instead, he reported, “The supervisor will move four men from the church to the Europaischer Hof, and take your men to the Philipps Castle. Which means there will be that many fewer to protect the Friedlers.”
“The bad guys are not after the Friedler family,” Castillo said. “They’re after you and Billy. And me. Now, get back on the phone and call whoever you have in the Bundeskriminalamt and tell them you have learned of a credible threat to you and Billy and the Friedlers—no details—and to act accordingly. Let them deal with the local cops.”
Gorner reached for the telephone.
“Before you do that, Otto,” Castillo said, “tell me about weapons. Is there anything here? Hunting rifles, shotguns, anything? Or can we get some from the security people?”
“I very strongly suggest we go to the police,” Gorner said. “They know how to deal with situations like this.”
“Otto, right now I’m not asking for suggestions. I asked where we can get our hands on some goddamn weapons! Answer the question!”
“Cool, Charley, cool,” Davidson said in Pashtu.
