‘Bring the girl to me,’ Hawn said. ‘I only want to see her for a few minutes. If I don’t get to see her, I will demand to see Colonel Kardich.’
There were mutterings beyond the door, then the sound of more boots as a third man arrived, though out of sight. Hawn guessed, from the way the other two saluted, that he was an officer.
He was a very tall man with a tired, sagging face, and wore soft leather boots and flared trousers under a loose grey-green smocked jacket, Soviet-style, with two shelves of red epaulettes. He seemed to be unarmed. He leant against the doorjamb and said, ‘You make much noise, English.’ His accent had the deep round Russian vowels.
Hawn said, ‘Colonel Kardich has told me that I was not under arrest. I demand to see my friend — Miss Admiral.’
The Russian looked down at him with his blue-pouched eyes; his cheeks were creased and lightly pitted with acne scars. It was a face which managed to be both sad and cruel. ‘The girl is correct. There is no problem.’
‘I demand to see her! Get me Colonel Kardich.’
‘The Colonel Kardich is not a domestic servant. I have authority here.’
‘Then bring me the girl. For five minutes. I am claiming my rights as a free citizen in the German Democratic Republic.’
The man stared at him with blank eyes, then straightened up and turned, pulling the door shut with a bang. Hawn, in a burst of impotent fury, kicked it and hurt his toe. If this meant being detained pending investigations, he wondered what it would be like to be under full arrest.
The door was flung open again, and Anna walked in. She walked unsteadily, touching the wall for support, and her face had a slightly greasy pallor. ‘Tom! I can’t stand being shut up in that little room any more. What are they going to do to us? I can’t sleep, I can’t eat. I’ve been asking to see you too, but nobody took any notice. I suppose it’s because I can’t speak German.’
Two Vopos stood in the doorway. One of them was smirking. Hawn led her over to the bed and sat her down; then turned to the two guards. ‘She stays here — with me.’
‘Five minutes,’ said one of them. The other, with the smirk, began to smile openly. Hawn advanced towards him.
‘Tell me what’s so funny.’
The man shrugged, but said nothing. The second Vopo stepped forward. ‘So the little lady is dissatisfied with her room? Where does she think she is — in a hotel?’
‘A State hotel,’ his companion said, and laughed. Hawn stepped up to him and hit him hard in the stomach, just above his belt; then he wheeled round and smashed his left fist into the other’s eye.
Several things happened at once. Hawn kicked out and his shoe collided with a soft calf boot. A machine-pistol sprang up and its skeleton handle slammed against his cheek. He reeled back, bumping into Anna who had leapt up from the bed and now hurled herself between the two Vopos, her fingernails reaching for their faces. One of them chopped her down with a blow on the neck. Hawn tried to reach him, when his head seemed to explode in a bright flash. Fists were pummelling his face as though it were dough. He could taste the salty blood, but couldn’t see anything. His head was bouncing off the lino floor, and Anna was screaming, but the screams seemed to be growing more distant; then an excruciating pain in his belly, followed by nothing.
Hawn woke, staring at the concrete ceiling, at the wire-caged bulb which looked enormous. It looked like an enormous birdcage. He wondered why he couldn’t see the birds. His face felt huge. He touched it, and it felt soft, like a toy balloon. He realized he could see with only one eye. There was a wet towel on his forehead. He moved his tongue against his lips and felt a brittle flaking, as though he were about to shed a skin. Then he passed out again.
The next time he opened his eye, he could just make out someone sitting at the foot of the bed. He tried to lift his head and gave a grunt of pain. A voice said, ‘You are a very foolish man, Mr Hawn. You are lucky to be alive.’
A gruff, heavy voice. Not unfriendly. Solid man, square face, grey hair, horn-rimmed spectacles. Dark suit and tie. All dressed up for the occasion.
Hawn licked his fat flaking lips and said, in a voice slow and struggling, like a deaf-mute’s, ‘They insulted my girl. They insulted Miss Admiral.’ He managed to get his head up this time, despite the pain. The towel remained clinging round his head like a turban. ‘Where is she?’
‘She is back in her room,’ said Colonel Kardich. ‘She has been given a sedative.’
‘How kind of you. You Communist bastard.’
‘Mr Hawn, you are very lucky. There are not many countries in the world where you can attack a policeman and expect to get no more than a little blood on your nose. Your attack was unprovoked.’
‘They insulted Miss Admiral,’ Hawn said again, feebly. ‘What are you going to do now? Charge me with assault?’
‘We will forget about the assault. You are not only very foolish — you are very impatient. I wonder how you would behave if you had to spend twenty years in a prison cell.’ Hawn rested his head back
