Warning Order

Chapter Nine

A city alive during the day now rested quietly beneath a suspended gray crown of smoke being discharged from fireplaces and factories throughout the city. The top floor of a ten-story, nineteenth century tenement building seemed to vanish within a cloud of smoke. The lower exterior of the concrete mass was still battered and pock-marked, a testimonial to wartime bombings. The state began renovating many of the apartments, although most were still considered to be very under-modernized.

Grant waited patiently as he hid in the alley across from the building where he and Adler were to meet. Close to midnight, most of the lights in the apartments had already been extinguished. Like a jungle cat, he moved quietly, unseen, making his way to the doorway, then immediately disappeared inside the building. A wooden staircase was directly in front of him, the first of three floors he'd have to encounter. With Lampson's description clear in his mind, he made a dash up the stairs, hanging close to the wall where the steps were more secure, less likely to give him away. In what seemed like seconds, he was at 3C, tapping out a prearranged signal. The lock clicked and he squeezed through the partially open door into a pitch dark room.

Dampness and a distinct musty odor hit his senses as soon as he stepped into the flat, making it obvious no one had lived there for some time. Adler immediately closed the door, set the lock, then turned on a flashlight. He shoved a throw rug up against the bottom of the door to help prevent any light from being seen from the hallway. He motioned for Grant to follow him into the kitchen, where a dark blanket had already been draped across the only window. He switched on a dim light hanging above a square wooden table that was covered by a worn piece of red oilcloth.

Grant stripped off his outer layer of clothes, then his wetsuit. He redressed, and after rolling up the wetsuit, he stuffed it into the burlap bag. Already suspecting the walls were paper thin, he kept his voice low. "Find anything of interest?"

"Clean as a whistle, almost like somebody wiped it down. No papers, no pictures… zippo." Grant was tying his sneakers when Adler asked, "How about you? Any luck?"

One side of Grant's mouth curved up into a smile. "Target acquired!"

"Outstanding! What's next?"

"Gotta wait till I meet with Grigori."

"Your usual place?" Adler asked.

"That's affirmative."

Adler jokingly asked, "How about a snack before bedtime?" He pushed a paper bag across the table.

"Assume you've already eaten your share," Grant commented as pulled out bread and a chunk of cheese. His knife sliced through the muenster as if it were softened butter. He popped the cheese into his mouth, when suddenly he and Adler froze.

They snapped their heads around, staring at the door, hearing a creaking from the wooden steps. Grant took a firm grip on his knife as he slowly pushed himself away from the table. Adler drew his .45 from his shoulder holster. After a series of hand signals, Adler extinguished the overhead light.

Their eyes adjusted quickly to the darkness, and in complete silence, they took their positions. Adler concealed himself just beyond the bedroom doorway. Grant flattened himself against a wall next to the door. Using his foot, he slowly drew the throw rug to the side. Immediately, a shaft of light breached the space beneath the door. A moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps suddenly stopped. Grant looked down, waiting, as a shadow appeared underneath the door. He re-gripped the knife, holding the cold steel blade close to his cheek. The unseen stranger tapped on the door. Then, a key was inserted into the lock and the door was slowly pushed open.

Grant tensed as he watched a head poke around the door, and a stranger called softly, "Greta?" A man walked into the room and closed the door.

As rapid as the blink of an eye, Grant's hand clasped over the man's mouth, the razor-sharp edge of his knife pressed against the jugular. Adler immediately ran from the bedroom, stopping directly in front of the man, shining a flashlight into his face. A look of absolute terror clearly showed in the stranger's eyes. Grant slid the knife blade to just above the Adam's apple, applying a slight pressure, then he slowly removed his hand from the man's mouth.

Adler grabbed the front of the man's shirt, dragging him toward the middle of the living room, the whole time Grant kept pressure on the knife. Keeping his voice low and menacing and speaking in German, Adler said, "I want you to keep your voice quiet, do you understand?" The German nodded. "Now," Adler said, "who are you?"

The only word that escaped from the German's lips was a shaky, "Nein!"

"We've got all night, friend, but I can guarantee that you don't," Adler gruffly whispered close to the man's face, a smell of beer evident on the German's breath.

Grant felt the man's body start to go limp. He slid a chair over with his foot, then roughly pushed him into the seat, the knife still lodged in place.

Adler leaned closer. "One more time… who are you?"

The man blinked. "Otto… Neus."

Adler glanced quickly at Grant, who shrugged his shoulders, indicating that he didn't recognize the name. "Good response, Otto. Now, why are you here?"

"I… I wanted to see if Greta had returned."

"Did you tell anyone you were coming here?"

“Nein.”

"How'd you like my friend to give you some breathing room, Otto?" Adler asked.

"Ja! Ja!" he pleaded, remembering to talk quietly.

Grant removed the knife, but kept the cold, flat blade resting on Neus' shoulder. The German felt pressure from a strong hand pressing down on his opposite shoulder, ensuring he remained in the chair.

"Okay, Otto, you said you wanted to see if Greta had returned. Returned from where?”

"I don't know. She just disappeared after we… " It was too late to retract his statement.

"We? Who is 'we'?"

Neus felt the sharp point of the knife jab at his jugular, making him freeze. Beads of sweat began trickling down his temples. His knuckles turned white as his hands gripped the edges of the seat. "I… I cannot tell you."

"Sure you can," Adler said with a smirk. "Give it a try."

Grant ran the point of the knife up and down the side of the German's neck, persuading him to blurt out, "Klaus. Klaus Steiner."

Adler looked up at Grant who motioned with his head. Still blinded from the harsh light, Neus blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. He could hear only whispers from the two strangers.

Adler said, "My friend and I are going to have a chat while you stay here." He unrolled a length of cord, tying the prisoner's ankles to the chair legs. Then he ordered, "Hands behind your back." Grant took a strip of cord and tied the German's hands, as Adler shoved part of a small towel into Neus' mouth. The Americans backed up into the kitchen, continuing to keep their voices at a whisper.

"Looks like you were right about the FSG taking the kids," Adler said.

"Yeah, but this opens up a whole shitload of questions."

Adler nodded. "What are we gonna do with him?" he asked as he motioned with his thumb over his shoulder.

Grant took a step away from the stove. "I think this guy's terrified of Steiner." Deep in thought, he walked over to the window, then went back to Adler. "Somehow we've gotta get him out of here. We still need to extract more information from him.”

"Same way we came in?"

Grant nodded. "When Manfred shows up with his load of coal, it'll be you and Otto making the return trip. You'll have to do the interrogation."

"I can do that," Adler grinned.

"You still got those syringes with 'knockout drops,’ right?"

"In the rucksack. Three cc's each; should be enough to keep him quiet for awhile."

"Once you're underway, I'll head out for my meeting with Grigori. I'll rely on him to help get me out of the city." Both of them turned their heads, looking at the shadowy form of Otto Neus, sitting stone-still. "See if you can find something for a blindfold."

Grant walked behind the German. Neus' body tensed. His mouth went dry from feeling the presence of his unseen, knife-wielding captor. Adler handed Grant a strip of bed sheet. Neus tried to jerk his head aside as Grant tied the blindfold in place.

Adler walked around and stood in front of Neus, saying, "Afraid you're going for a little ride, Otto." The bound and gagged German saw his life pass before his eyes, a deep groan rising from his throat.

Grant glanced at his watch. They still had an hour before Manfred was scheduled to show up. May as well keep the conversation going, he thought. He motioned to Adler, who removed the gag from the German's mouth.

Neus coughed, then took some short, quick breaths before asking, "Are you going to kill me?"

Adler ignored the question. "Tell us where the children are."

"I don't know." He heard Grant move behind him, anticipating the feel of the cold steel. "I swear! I don't know! Klaus didn't tell me."

"What was Greta to you?"

"We were… lovers… before Brennar came along." Grant's eyebrow shot up. This is getting very interesting.

"I want you to think carefully about your next answer, Otto. Is Brennar the father of those children?"

Neus tilted his head slightly, as if the question were absurd. "Of course. Greta told me they were."

Grant signaled time was up; they had to prepare to meet Manfred. Neus nearly came off the seat when he suddenly felt the cloth touch his lips before being roughly shoved into his mouth. Adler grabbed hold of Neus’ elbow, assisting him in getting up. His legs were untied, then his wrists retied in front of him. His jacket was buttoned to the top then his collar pulled up, his blond hair hanging over it. The next thing he knew, he was being half dragged, half carried down the stairs, with Grant and Adler each holding onto an arm. When they reached the main landing, Grant kept an iron grip on Neus' arm while Adler scoped out the alley, returning in seconds, saying softly, "Schnell."

Manfred was ready for them and had opened the hidden compartment door. Even though he was surprised to see the German, he remained quiet and stood aside while the Americans did their work.

Adler pulled a syringe from the rucksack, snapped his finger against it, then squirted a small amount into the air, ensuring there weren't any bubbles. Grant held Neus' arm in a vice-like grip. Veins in the back of the German's hand made an easy target for Adler, and within seconds, the sodium pentothal took effect. The German's knees buckled from under him. They pulled the gag from his mouth, then rolled him into the compartment. Adler crawled in next to him and quickly adjusted the oxygen masks. He gave a thumb's up and Grant secured the hinged door. Grant patted Manfred on his back and the old man climbed into the cab of the truck, giving Grant a wink as he drove away.

Once again looking like another East Berliner going off to work, Grant slung the sack over his shoulder and headed for his rendezvous with Grigori Moshenko.