“Don’t move. Hold your hands out,” Markus said to Campbell. Then, to Alex, “What happened?”
“He tricked Irene. About moving Markovsky. But he didn’t know I’d bring him here. To you. Just take him and question him. Whatever you have to do. He knows where Markovsky is. It’s just a matter of getting him to tell you. Then you’ve got him.”
“What are you—?” Campbell said.
“Shut up. Get in the car,” Markus said, waving the gun to his car.
“I wouldn’t hold out,” Alex said to Campbell. “It’s never worth it.”
“He’s lying,” Campbell said to Markus. Then to Alex, “You lied to me.”
“You lied to me. That doesn’t make us even.”
“Alex, what—?”
“Go ahead,” Alex said to Campbell. “Tell him who you are.”
“Bastard.”
“He’s Don Campbell,” Alex said. “CIA in Berlin. He’s got Markovsky. He can tell you where he is.”
“That’s right,” Campbell said. “He’s dead.”
“Dead?” Markus said.
“Then what are you doing here?” Alex said. “And now you’re wasting time. In the end we’re going to find out anyway. Markus?”
Markus nodded to his partner, who stepped toward Campbell, waving him to Markus’s car.
“Meier, for chrissake—”
“Just tell him what he wants to know.” Alex faced him. “I don’t need any more cables. You’ve said everything you needed to say. You’re not useful anymore.”
Campbell’s eyes opened wide.
“Cables?” Markus said.
“Better get him out of here,” Alex said. “In case it’s a trap. Someone else waiting.”
“Trap,” Campbell said, almost spitting it. “I’m working with you,” he said to Markus. “Check with Saratov. He’s lying to you.”
“Working with me?” Markus said.
“Russian security.” He caught Alex’s eye, a second.
“With the Russians?” Alex said, sarcastic. “Don’t you think they might have mentioned that? Or did you just join up now?” He turned to Markus. “We’re wasting time.”
Markus looked from one to the other, then nodded again to his partner, who grabbed Campbell’s arm.
“You fuck,” Campbell yelled at Alex, breaking from the partner’s grip and pushing him away. He reached into his pocket, the gun out almost before the movement registered. Alex’s eyes went to the barrel, pointed at him, as he fumbled for his own. No. A deafening sound to his left, the whole square filled with it, Markus shooting, Campbell’s gun dropping out of his hand as he fell. Alex ran over. Eyes still open. Markus had shot to wound, still hoping for questions later. Alex raised his gun. No more lines to cross.
“Alex—!” Markus shouted. The partner stumbled toward them and stopped, not sure what to do.
Campbell’s eyes fluttered. “Don’t,” he said faintly, a whimper.
“You know what Willy taught me?” Alex said to Campbell. “Or was it you? No witnesses.”
His finger on the trigger, unable to move, a stopped moment. Not who I am.
“Alex—!” Markus said again.
Alex fired, the explosion filling the air around them, Campbell’s head jerking back, pieces splitting off, soft. Alex stood there shaking, his hand trembling. Not easier. Not who I am. But who I am now.
Markus was staring at him, his face moving, some storm passing over it, then still.
“The man in the English coat,” he said. “It was you. She saw you.”
Alex looked over. “Yes.”
“Then you knew—” He nodded toward Campbell.
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
Alex nodded. “To both of you.”
He turned to Markus’s partner. “Help me get him in the car. The trunk. See if there’s something we can wrap his head in. We have to get him off the street.”
Markus just stared.
“Well, you don’t want him, do you? You don’t want to go anywhere near him. Or Saratov—”
“What are you doing?”
“We were ambushed. It’s a miracle I’m alive. He went down in the line of duty. Which will make his cable even better. Coming from a hero.”
“Cable,” Markus said, still in a fog.
“Never mind,” Alex said, lifting Campbell’s feet. “Point is, you’ll need to think what to tell Saratov. If you stay.”
“He was with the Russians?” Markus said, still working it out.
Alex nodded. “So let’s explore our options. Thanks,” he said to the partner, Campbell now stowed in the trunk. “Better wait in the car.” The man looked to Markus, who nodded.
“Our options,” he said to Alex. “You lied to me.”
“Well, now I’m going to make it up to you. Let’s see how this works. You just shot a Russian agent. And you recruited an American one. Which puts you in an awkward position. No, don’t bother.” He indicated Markus’s gun. “I’m on the radio tomorrow, on tape, turning my back on the East. A real embarrassment for the SMA. Your recruit. So you’re still in an awkward position whether I’m dead or not. And Campbell here knew you recruited me—he asked for your name—so it’s probably in a Russian file somewhere. Maybe you can talk your way out of it somehow. But Saratov doesn’t look like the understanding type. So that’s option one.”
“And two?” Markus said quietly.
“You once offered me a job. Now I’m offering you one.”
“A job.”
“You wanted to work together.”
“Work for you.”
“Only for a little while. I’m going home. And you’re going to help. My insurance.”
“How?”
“I’m going to recruit you. A nice big fish. The Agency is going to be impressed. Maybe even grateful.”
“A promotion for you.”
“Better. A ticket. Home. You’re a good catch, you know everything about the German security force. And even if you didn’t, the embarrassment factor alone—”
“You want me to work for the Americans? Are you crazy?”
“Wake up.”
Markus jerked his head back.
“You’re not just in an awkward position. You’re done here.”