Germans May Disband Health Care
Berlin, Germany (World News Service) — The latest victim in the continuing worldwide depression may be one of the lynchpins of Germany’s welfare state, universal health care.
The continuing fiscal crisis, which has hit Europe particularly hard, is causing governments across the region to cut services. Nowhere are the fiscal problems more severe than in Germany, where the government has traditionally eschewed deficits and other so-called tricks of the trade…
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But the city itself seemed to be taking little notice of the crisis. Motorbikes, buses, cars, and trucks filled the highways in both directions; there was no mass panic or exodus.
Concerned that the regularly scheduled planes would be booked or even diverted, DeBiase had arranged for a plane to meet Mara and the others. The charter would then take them to Tokyo. Leased from a small Japanese airline named Goodwill Japan, the aircraft was one of several used on an occasional basis by the CIA.
The arrangement was straightforward. Mara would bring everyone to the airport, get through security, then go to the main terminal. She would page a ticket agent working for a regular airline but on the CIA payroll as a “friend.” The employee would help them through passport control and out to the flight, which was due to arrive no later than 5 p.m.
Two hours from now.
Josh was sleeping again. He’d have to wait until they landed in Tokyo to see a doctor. But it seemed like the best way to do things.
They bogged down in traffic about four miles from the airport, and Mara had Squeaky change places with her so she was behind the wheel. Kerfer beeped the horn at her as she ran around the truck. He tapped his ear, indicating that he wanted her to turn on her radio. She got the truck going again, then did so.
“What’s the game plan?” he asked.
“Straight to the airport, like I said.”
“No shit.”
“Just follow me.”
“Leave the radios on.”
“The batteries going to last?”
“We’re taking off in two hours, right? We got plenty of juice for that. Little Joe’s coming up to ride shotgun in the back.”
“Why?”
“ ‘Cause I’m fucking nervous, that’s why.”
Mara shook her head, but at this point there was nothing she could do about it. The SEAL hopped over the tailgate.
“Little Joe, you got your radio on?” she asked over the circuit.
“Big-time.”
“Keep your gun in the bag. We don’t want to be stopped.”
“We saw a lot of people with weapons.”
“They’re militia. And they’re not white.”
Mara saw a 757 lifting off in the distance as the traffic snaked forward. They’d be doing the same soon.
As they edged toward the exit for Ha Huy Giap to get down to the airport, Squeaky saw that the ramp was closed, blocked off by a pair of military vehicles. Mara decided to try and talk her way through. She pulled off in front of the trucks, angled so she might squeeze past if one pulled back. The soldiers went over to the passenger-side window, eying Little Joe in the back suspiciously.
Mara had to lean across the others to talk. She spoke in the quickest Vietnamese she could muster.
“We have to get to the airport,” she said. “I need to get on the highway.”
“The highway is closed,” said the sergeant in charge of the detail.
“But I need to get to the airport.”
“Not by this road. It’s closed.”
She pleaded some more, but the soldier and the two privates with him simply walked away. Mara had to edge back into traffic.
“Why didn’t you try bribing him?” asked Squeaky.
“I’m just about out of money,” she said. “We could maybe buy a few loaves of bread; that’s it.”
“Can’t grease a palm with spit,” said Squeaky philosophically.
The ramp to Highway 22 was closed as well. Mara continued in traffic for another mile and a half, well past the airport, until she saw an open emergency ramp that led down to a city street. She followed several cars off, then began wending through the crowded, narrow city streets back in the direction of the airport.
The traffic thickened steadily, gradually choking off to an unsteady crawl. When finally she came in sight of Tuong Son, the main road to the terminal, she saw why — the airport entrance was closed. Cars were being sent down the road to make U-turns before fighting their way back into traffic.
“Stay with the truck while I find out what’s going on,” said Mara, hopping out.
Kerfer got out as well, trotting up behind as she walked down the line of cars. A pair of armored personnel carriers sat in the middle of the airport entrance. Two military policemen were directing traffic — or rather, trying to wave it onward.
“How do you get into the airport?” Mara shouted.
One of the men held his hand up to his ear. Mara squeezed around the tangle of cars and ran over to him.
“I have a flight,” said Mara. “How do I get in?”
“No more flights today,” said the policeman.
“I just saw a plane take off.”
“No more flights.”
“I need to talk to someone in charge.”
The man ignored her.
“Hey!” she yelled.
He didn’t answer, turning instead to a nearby car whose driver was crying that she was lost.
“We can just walk in,” said Kerfer. He pointed to the lot across from them.
“What about the soldiers?” she asked.
“We duck around the side, back on the block where we turned. Near the end of that taxiway. There’s no one there.”
“You don’t think there are soldiers inside?”
“We worry about them when we find them.”
“It’s too risky. If we get arrested, we may never get out,” Mara told him. “Go back with Josh and the others. I’ll find the officer in charge here and find out what’s going on.”
“Not by yourself,” insisted Kerfer.
“You’re a pain in the ass,” she told him, starting toward the parking lot.
“And you’re a bitch,” said Kerfer, walking with her. “I’d say we’re made for each other.”
“Touch me and I’ll deck you.”
“I’d love to get physical.”
“I doubt I’m your type.”
