'But the transports have stopped, haven't they?'
'Weeks ago.'
'So what's going to happen now?'
'That's what we all want to know,' the nurse admitted with a shrug. She examined her handiwork. 'There, that'll do.'
The orderly took them back down the long tunnel, up the stairs and across the courtyard to the Pathology building. There was a guardroom just inside the entrance, and steps leading down to a large, semi-basement room. It was the first of four such spaces, and each seemed home to between twenty and thirty detainees. Most were women over thirty, but there was a smattering of younger women with children, and several men past middle age. As Effi and Rosa wandered through the rooms a few eyes looked up in curiosity, and a couple of the older women even managed a wan smile of greeting, but most of the faces held only fear and mistrust.
The first room seemed the emptiest. Having picked out a space for themselves, they examined the outside world through one of the high barred windows, Rosa perched precariously on her upturned suitcase. A barbed wire fence ran across their line of sight, bisecting the area of cratered lawns and broken trees that lay between them and the ivy-covered buildings of the main hospital. An almost idyllic setting, Effi thought. Once upon a time.
She was helping Rosa down when the sirens began to wail, and soon feet started tramping down the steps. The room began to fill up – these basements, Effi realised, were air-raid shelters for prisoners and guards alike. There were several men in Gestapo uniform, and one small bow-legged man in a black civilian suit who seemed to be in charge. Dobberke, she thought, as his black German shepherd cocked a leg against a metal table leg.
'We're all in the same boat now,' a satisfied voice said behind Effi, confirming her previous thought. One of the sleeping women had woken up, and was now grinning at the coterie of Gestapo in the far corner. 'I'm Johanna,' she said, as the first bombs exploded in the distance. She looked about fifty, but could have been younger – her face was gaunt, her body painfully thin.
'Dagmar and Rosa.'
'Have you just been caught?'
'This morning. And you?'
'A few weeks ago. I flushed the toilet without thinking, and one of the neighbours heard.' She smiled ruefully. 'Three years of effort down the toilet. Literally.'
'Are there no young people here?' Effi asked.
'They're in the cells. Through there,' she gestured with a hand. 'Mostly men, but a few young women too – anyone they think might make a run for it.'
'And the greifer, aren't they here too?'
Johanna's face darkened. 'They're not usually here during the day, and there are several I haven't seen for a while. Either Dobberke has given them a head start, or they've just taken one for themselves. Whatever happens to us, they have no future.'
'And what will happen to us?' Effi wondered out loud.
Johanna shook her head. 'Only God knows.' Plunging into darkness April 14 – 18 R ussell had only just finished his breakfast when the usual escorts arrived. Three men were waiting in the interrogation room. The golden-toothed questioner from last time occupied Ramanichev's place; an NKVD officer with a shiny bald head and sharp-eyed Tatar face sat to his left. The third man was Yevgeny Shchepkin, Russell's old partner in espionage.
'I am Colonel Nikoladze,' Gold Teeth admitted, with the air of someone revealing a state secret, 'and this is Major Kazankin. Comrade Shchepkin I believe you know.'
Shchepkin's hair had turned white since Russell last saw him, and his body seemed strangely stiff in the chair, but the eyes were alert as ever.
'We have sad news for you,' Nikoladze began briskly, conjuring instant images of dead Effis and Pauls. 'Your president died yesterday.'
The relief was intense. 'I'm sorry to hear that,' Russell heard himself say. He supposed he was. He had never much liked Roosevelt, but he had admired him, particularly in the early years.
'To business, then,' Nikoladze said, laying both palms on the table. 'We have a proposition for you,' he told Russell. 'As I understand it, you have family in Berlin, and concerns that they might come to harm when our forces reach the city.'
'That is correct,' Russell told him. Surely they couldn't have changed their minds?
'I believe you offered assistance. 'Whatever your generals need to know',' Nikoladze read from the paper in front of him. ''Where everything is, the best roads, the best vantage points'.'
'That's what I said.' He could hardly believe it.
'So how would you like to arrive in Berlin several days ahead of the Red Army?' Nikoladze asked, with a singularly unconvincing smile.
Russell looked up. 'Ahead of?'
'We are sending a small team into Berlin. Major Kazankin will be in command. A second soldier, a scientist and, we hope, yourself. You will all be dropped at night in the surrounding countryside, and will work your way into the city. You, Mr Russell, will act as the guide. And you will handle any accidental contacts with the local population – Kazankin here speaks a little German, but not enough to pass himself off as a native.'
'Where exactly are we going?' Russell asked, suspecting he already knew the answer. 'Scientist' was a bit of a clue.
'You've heard of the Kaiser Wilhelm Institute?' Nikoladze asked, confirming his guess.
'Any one in particular? There are several of them.'
'The Institute for Physics,' Nikoladze said, with some irritation.
This was not a man, Russell thought, who took life as it came. 'It's in Dahlem,' he said. 'Or was. It may have been bombed.'
'As of last week, it was still intact. You know exactly where it is?'
'Yes.'
'And the Technische Hochschule in Charlottenburg?'
'Yes.'
'According to our information, these are the most important atomic research establishments in Berlin. We want to secure all the available documentation from these facilities, and get an accurate assessment of what materials and equipment they contain.'
'Why not go in with the Red Army?' Russell asked. 'Are a few days going to make any difference?' He knew he was arguing against his own interests, but the more he understood of the Soviets' reasoning the safer he would probably be.
'They might,' Shchepkin answered him, speaking for the first time. Even his voice seemed weaker than it had. 'The Germans may well decide to destroy everything, and if they do not, the Americans probably will. Three weeks ago they tried their best to destroy the uranium production facility at Oranienburg from the air, and they may well decide to send in a ground team.'
'I doubt there's anything they need,' Russell protested.
'There isn't,' Shchepkin agreed. 'But they don't want us to get it.'
That sounded right to Russell. Hitler might still be breathing fire, but his two principal enemies were already getting ready for the next war.
'You will guide the team from the drop zone to the Institute, and then on to Charlottenburg,' Nikoladze continued. 'You know the city. And you speak Russian – so you can help our scientist translate from the German.'
Russell idly wondered what the cost of refusal would be. Siberia, in all likelihood. Which was neither here nor there, because he didn't intend to refuse. He could see several drawbacks to acceptance – in fact, the more he thought about it the more occurred to him. Berlin was probably going to be the most dangerous place on earth over the next few weeks, and the Americans would be seriously displeased with anyone who helped the Soviets to an atomic bomb. To top it all, the idea of jumping from a plane with only a sheet of silk to combat gravity was truly petrifying.
But what did all that matter if it gave him the chance to find Effi and Paul? 'I assume we won't be wearing
