'What sort of clothes?' asked the police chief.
'I don't know. Jeans, anything. Just clean clothes.'
He returned to Billie. 'You're staying at a hotel tonight.
'I want to go to the Reichstag tomorrow,' she said.
'We'll see. The police haven't finished with you yet.
'Do I tell them any more?'
'Nothing. You say it like you already did. And I don't want anyone else to know what you told me. I mean anyone. This is just between us. Understand?'
'Yes.'
'Good.' He knew she'd follow his instructions.
Hilsman was still waiting for him when he returned to the ante-room. 'What she say?' he asked.
'Just what she told the police,' the DDI said. He then went on to tell Hilsman the truth about New Orleans and their flight to Europe. He never mentioned the Reichstag.
'What about the Englishman?'
'What about him? He'll probably show at the British embassy.'
'He's armed.'
'Who said?'
'Gerbhart. They found the police car. Two revolvers in the trunk were missing. One of the cops is a marksman at a shooting club. He was going there after he came off duty.'
'I didn't know that.'
'His off duty clothes were also missing.'
'Where'd they find…?'
'Western end of the Tiergarten. The cops actually waved him through a security barrier. Parked about a mile from the Reichstag. With those clothes, it's going to be easy for him to become just another face in the crowd. If he shows up tomorrow.'
'Then we arrest him. Unless he pulls his weapons. Hell, we can't take that chance. I guess we'll just have to take him out.'
Ch. 76
The crowd had been building since the early morning and, with only two hours to go, nearly a quarter of a million people filled the square. The crowd barriers had been positioned overnight and all around the square, police vehicles, including riot control vans, lined the side roads. There had been a sudden snowfall overnight and the early morning street cleaners had wheeled out their snow ploughs and swept the four centimetre deep covering into deeper piles around the preimeter.
The square, a vast open area, ran up towards the elevated Reichstag. At its centre was a gargantuan arch supported by six stone pillars that reached the full height of the building. The carved legend 'Dem Deutschen Volke' was a symbol for one people. The building had four great towers in each corner, representing the original states that had become one nation: Wurtenburg, Bayern, Sachsen and Prussia.
But the symbolism of the building, this badge of unity for the commentators and the television cameras, was not appreciated by many of the crowd who had gathered there. As with any large gathering, there were many different factions, many opposing viewpoints.
It was something Adam was aware of as he mixed with the crowd, moving steadily forward under cover of the jostling mass towards the front of the square. Most of the people were there for a day out, to touch history in their beloved Berlin. Mixing among them were the rabble rousers and activists peddling their own brand of politics and reform. Some were quite harmless; the Greens and others who wanted to save the earth with their peaceful meandering agendas. But others, under the banners of reaction and revolution, were there to make their own brutal point in the name of whatever cause they believed was their right. He smelt the trouble brewing and knew the water canons and riot batons would be in use before the day was finished.
Welcome to democracy, Marcus. See the freedom that they would bring, and destroy in the name of their own brand of freedom.
He kept his head bowed, knowing there would be plain clothes police and other security people mixing with the crowds. The army fatigues had been replaced by the clothes he had found in the police car. He smiled as he remembered the sandwiches and hot flask of tea that had been rammed into the pockets of the thick leather jacket he now wore. They'd been most welcome, as had the two revolvers that nestled under his trouser belt.
He had followed the signs to the Tiergarten, driving at breakneck speed, and he was lucky no patrol car had picked him up. A police barrier had been set up near the Tiergarten, but they waved him through. He realised they were part of the security to seal off the area for tomorrow's ceremony. When he had come to the open parkland, he had driven off the road and parked amongst some trees. After forcing the boot open and finding his booty, he had changed his clothing quickly and headed east, jogging through the sparse trees. His body was hurting, the cuts Kaas and his people had inflicted on him were very sore now. But he kept going and within twenty minutes he saw the Reichstag building. The snow had started by then and the whole scene, with the bright lights that emblazoned the building, was just like a Christmas card. He grinned when he saw it. Still a fucking romantic, Marcus. The square in front of the Reichstag was bright with the falling snow and he had kept in the trees, not wanting to be seen in the whiteness of it all. A high moon and a cloudless sky didn't help. In the distance he saw the police cars and the men working as they prepared the crowd barriers and the gantries for the television cameras.
The tree line had led him towards the enormous rounded sculpture of Henry Moore's Butterfly. He stopped and marvelled at it, its smoothness and size more impressive than the pictures he remembered of it. Behind the sculpture, across a small lake, was the House of Cultures of the World, an ugly 1957 building that had a curved dome, curved like a top lip with yellowed slats that ran down to the entrance. It was like a big mouth, permanently opened to reveal yellowed teeth. He wasn't to know, but to Berliners, the building was known as 'the smile in stone of Jimmy Carter'.
He had seen the tall obelisk through the trees, rising over sixty metres in the air. He crossed over towards it. It was a square building, some eight metres from corner to corner. The sign told him it was the 'Glocken Turm', a bell tower with sixty two bells that had been given to the people of Berlin by the Mercedes Benz Motor Car Company. He grinned as he looked up at the tower. Berlin's Big Benz, Marcus. He laughed at his own joke, then wished Billie had been there to share it. She'd have enjoyed that.
It hadn't taken long to climb the large struts to the top. Apart from the pain in his body, the only cause for concern had been the surprise of the bells chiming. It had taken nearly five minutes for his hearing to return to normal. Once at the top, he had broken into the engineer's room, closed the door and settled down to enjoy the meal that had been prepared for the policeman. Finally, cold but no longer hungry, he had dropped off to sleep, his only companion being the hourly ringing of the bells. Midnight had been the worst.
Just before daylight, he had looked out of the small window at the square and the Reichstag. From there he worked out his plan of action. He had searched through the policeman's clothes and found his wallet and his police marksman's identity card. Fortunately there was no picture and he was pleased with his discovery.
At eight o' clock when the crowds hadstarted to build, he had skimmed down the struts of the Big Benz and joined the mass. A few noticed him, but no-one was alarmed. They were all trying to get a good vantage point.
Now Adam finally stopped three deep from the front line. The police stood by the barriers, and beyond them, on the wide steps of the Reichstag, the podium waited for the leaders of the world to clasp their hands in friendship.