now as fainthearted, as not having had the strength of our convictions.' 'Which is why,' Herbert had muttered, 'the Japanese had to be A-bombed to the peace table.' The other significant change Hood had noticed over the past few years was increasing resentment over the assimilation of the former East Germany. This was one of Hausen's personal Zahnschmerzen or 'toothaches,' as he politely described it.
'It's another country,' he had said. 'It would be as if the United States attempted to absorb Mexico. The East Germans are our brothers, but they adopted Soviet culture and Soviet ways. They are shiftless and believe that we owe them reparations for having abandoned them at the end of the war. They hold out their hands not for tools or diplomas, but for money. And when the young don't get it, they join gangs and become violent. The East is dragging our nation into a financial and spiritual abyss from which it will take decades to recover.' Hood had been surprised by the politician's open resentment. What had surprised him even more was their otherwise meticulous waiter openly grunting his approval as he filled their water glasses.
Hausen had pointed toward the waiter. 'One-fifth of every mark he earns goes to the East,' he'd said.
They did not discuss the ROC during the meal. That would take place later, in Hausen's Hamburg office.
Germans believed in getting to know their partners before the seduction process began.
Toward the end of the meal, Hausen's cellular telephone, chirped. He pulled it from his jacket pocket, excused himself, and half-turned to answer.
His bright eyes dulled and his thin lips turned down. He said very little.
When the call was finished, Hausen laid the phone on the table. 'That was my assistant,' he said. He looked from Lang to Hood. 'There's been a terrorist attack on a movie location outside of Hanover. Four people are dead. An American girl is missing and there's reason to believe she has been kidnapped.' Lang grew ashen. 'The movie— was it Tirpitz?' Hausen nodded. The government official was obviously upset.
Herbert asked, 'Do they know who did it?' 'No one has claimed credit,' Hausen said. 'But the shooting was done by a woman.' 'Doring,' Lang said. He looked from Hausen to Herbert.
'This can only be Karin During, the leader of Feuer. They're one of the most violent neo-Nazi groups in Germany.' His voice was a low, sad monotone. 'It's as Richard was saying.
She recruits young savages from the East and trains them herself.' 'Wasn't there any security?' Herbert asked.
Hausen nodded. 'One of the victims was a guard.' 'Why attack a movie set?' Hood asked.
'It was an American and German production,' Hausen said. 'That's reason enough for Doring. She wants all foreigners out of Germany. But the terrorists also stole a trailer filled with Nazi memorabilia. Medals, weapons, uniforms, and the like.' 'Sentimental bastards,' Herbert said.
'Perhaps,' said Hausen. 'Or they may want it for something else. You see, gentlemen, there is an abhorrent phenomenon, several years old, called Chaos Days.' 'I've heard of that,' Herbert said.
'Not through the media, I suspect,' Hausen said. 'Our reporters don't want to publicize the event.' 'Sort of makes them accomplices to Nazi-style censorship, doesn't it?' Stoll wondered.
Herbert scowled at him. 'Hell, no. I don't blame them.
I've heard about Chaos Days from friends at Interpol. It really is a stinking business.' 'It is that,' Hausen agreed. He looked at Stoll, then at Hood. 'Hate groups from all over Germany and even from other nations converge in Hanover, one hundred kilometers south of here. They have rallies and exchange their sick ideas and literature. Some, including Doring's group, have made it a tradition of attacking symbolic as well as strategic targets during this time.' 'At least, intelligence leads us to believe that it's Doring's group,' Lang put in. 'She's quick and very, very careful.' Herbert said, 'And the government doesn't crack down on Chaos Days for fear of creating martyrs.' 'Many people in government are afraid of that, yes,' Hausen said. 'They are afraid of the increasingly open pride many otherwise right-thinking Germans have for what the nation, galvanized and mobilized under Hitler, was able to accomplish. These officials want to legislate radicalism out of existence without punishing the radicals themselves. During Chaos Days in particular, when so many antagonistic elements are out in force, the government treads carefully.' 'And how do you feel?' Hood asked.
Hausen replied, 'I believe we should do both. Crush them where we see them, then use laws to fumigate those who crawl under rocks.' 'And you think this Karin Doring, or whoever, wanted the memorabilia for Chaos Days?' Herbert asked.
'Passing out those mementoes would tie recipients directly to the Reich,' Hausen said, thinking aloud. 'Imagine how that would motivate each and every one of them.' 'For what?' Herbert asked. 'More attacks?' 'That,' Hausen replied, 'or perhaps nothing more than a year of loyalty. With seventy or eighty groups vying for members, loyalty is important.' Lang said, 'Or the theft might swell the hearts of those who read about it in the newspapers. Men and women who, as Richard says, still privately revere Hitler.' Herbert asked, 'What's the scoop on the American girl?' Hausen said, 'She's an intern on the film. She was last seen inside the trailer. The police believe she may have been abducted along with it.' Herbert gave Hood a look. Hood thought for a moment, then nodded.
'Excuse me,' Herbert said. He wheeled himself from the table and patted the telephone on his armrest. 'I'm going to find myself a nice, quiet corner and make some calls. Maybe we can add a little something to the intelligence pool.' Lang rose and thanked him, then apologized again.
Herbert assured him that there was nothing to apologize for.
'I lost my wife and my legs to terrorists in Beirut,' he said. 'Each time they show their sick faces, it gives me a chance to hunt more of 'em down.' He looked at Hausen.
'These bastards are my toothache, Herr Hausen, and I live to drill the bastards.' Herbert swung himself around and wheeled his way through the tables. With his departure, Hausen sat and tried to collect himself. Hood looked at him. Liz was right: something else was going on here.
'We've been fighting this battle for over fifty years,' Hausen said gravely. 'You can inoculate against disease and seek shelter from a storm. But how do you protect yourself from this? How do you fight hate? And it's a growth business, Herr Hood. Every year there are more groups with more members. God help us if they ever unite.' Hood said, 'My deputy director at Op-Center once said you fight an idea with a better idea. I'd like to believe that's true. If not' — he cocked a thumb at Herbert, who was making his way onto a deck overlooking the river— 'I'm with my intelligence chief over there. We hunt them down.' 'They're very well hidden,' Hausen said, 'extremely well armed, and quite impossible to infiltrate because they accept only very young new members. We rarely know in advance what they are planning.' 'Only for now,' Matt told him.
Lang looked at him. 'What do you mean, Herr Stoll?' 'You know that backpack I left in the car?' Hausen and Lang both nodded. Stop smiled. 'Well, if we can all get together on this ROC thing, we're going to blow a lot of rotten slices right out of the bread box.'
CHAPTER NINE
When Jody Thompson heard the shouts outside the trailer, she thought Hollis Arlenna was calling for her.
Standing in the bathroom, she flipped even faster through the garments, cursing the prop people who had labeled them in German and Arlenna for being such a dork.
Then she heard the gunfire. She knew it wasn't a scene from the movie. She had all the guns in here, and Mr. Buba was the only one with a key. And then she heard the cries of pain and fear, and knew that something terrible was going on. She stopped checking the garment bags and leaned an ear close to the door.
When the trailer engine first roared, Jody thought that someone was trying to get it away from whatever was happening on the set. Then the door slammed and she heard someone moving around inside. The person didn't speak, which she knew was a bad sign. If it were a guard, he'd be on his walkie-talkie.
Suddenly, the bathroom seemed very warm and close.
Noticing that the door wasn't locked, she gingerly lifted the bolt and threw it. Then she squatted between the garment bags, holding on to them so she didn't fall over. She was going to stay put until someone came to get her.
She listened intently. Jody hadn't worn her watch, and her only sense of time passing was through sound. The intruder looking through the daggers on the far left table.
