Suddenly, the surrounding troops moved apart. Jacko with his skinny frame found the strength to thrust them aside. A Soviet officer was seen sidling away, heading in the direction of the Soviet camp.
“Fuck. You OK?” Jacko reached down to help Bradley up.
“Yes, but they got the camera.”
“I know. I saw them ripping the film out. No good to them though.” Jacko smiled. “I saw you change the film.” He steadied Bradley, pulling his arm over his shoulder as he could see he was unsteady on his feet.
“How about the Rover?”
“It’s fine. The Sovs didn’t bother with it. They were more interested in you. God, you’ll have a nice shiner on your left eye tomorrow.”
Bradley looked about him and could see a second Range Rover parked behind the white Lada and a Gaz-66 behind that. He suddenly crumpled and groaned.
“You OK? Stupid question, I know.”
“Just hurts like hell.”
As Jacko helped Bradley who was still unsteady on his feet, his body shaking, shock setting in, towards the second Range Rover, they saw the red beret of a Royal Military Police officer and an accompanying interpreter.
“Thank God,” uttered Bradley. “Thank God.”
Chapter 13
Keifer crouched down behind the sparse hedgerow, pulling his fiancée in close. He felt her shaking.
“I’m scared, Keifer, really scared.”
He pulled her in even closer. “It’s OK, I promise you. We’ll make it.”
“How far have we left to go?”
“About three kilometres, sweetheart. It’s not far now.”
“I’m tired, Keifer. I didn’t get any sleep last night.”
“Me neither,” he said with a soft chuckle. “But once we’re in the West, you can have all the sleep you want. I’ll even bring you breakfast in bed: Westphalian ham, Gouda cheese, fresh bread rolls and some real coffee.”
He saw the whiteness of her teeth as she smiled. One of his attributes was being able to make her feel good, no matter what the circumstances. She squeezed his arm. He had such confidence and instilled that confidence within her.
Keifer Freeh was twenty-two years old, an electronics student living in the German Democratic Republic, East Germany. His fiancée Adali Keller was more into literature and history, and longed for the day when she could have access to the books she had heard were freely available to everyone who lived in the West. They both lived in the small village of Lüttow, about fifty kilometres south-east of Lubeck and about seventy to eighty kilometres east of Hamburg in the Federal Republic of Germany. They were a mere two kilometres from their home now. Their village was just outside the five-kilometre wide Sperrzone, the restricted zone. But, at this moment in time, they were well and truly inside the highly protected area of the Inner German Border, the boundary between East and West Germany; patrolled by guards with dogs, mobile patrols, and, yesterday, they were overflown by a Hoplite, a small reconnaissance helicopter. Both had been in the Sperrzone all night, Keifer insisting that they become acclimatised to the area, familiarising themselves with the sounds and smells and raising their awareness of any activity that might occur around them. He was also concerned about trying to cover the full seven-kilometre trek to the border in just one night. It would push them too hard, particularly Adali, causing them to potentially make mistakes.
It was 8 June 1984. Keifer had led them both from the village into the zone the previous night where they had lain up in hiding during the latter part of the night. Then they spent the entire day hidden from the authorities. Keifer had done his eighteen-months conscription in the NVA, the National Volks Armee, and had hated every minute of it. But a switch had been flicked inside his head, and, one night, he and Adali decided that they’d had enough and wanted to escape to the West, to perceived freedom. So, he used his time in the army welclass="underline" to hone his skills, learn the art of camouflage, deception and moving quietly, and, more importantly, how the NVA functioned. Using the premise that he was potentially interested in joining the Grenztruppen der DDR, the border guards, he learnt as much as he could about their organisation, how they operated, what border protection systems were in use. He proved to be such a competent soldier that the hierarchy tried to persuade him to make a career in the forces and were most put out when he declined. He was using some of the art of concealment he had learned during his training now. Both he and Adali wore home-made ghillie suits. Constructed by Adali, under the guidance of her fiancé, they consisted of dark green, thin cotton material, covered in netting of the same dimensions, with strips of light and dark cloth knotted to it. Although not perfect, when they lay on the ground close together next to some undergrowth or tall grasses, the edges of the ghillie spread out about them, they were well hidden. Keifer had even left both suits out in the rain for a month to weather and blend in even further with the countryside they would be hiding in. Applying a healthy dose of manure, much to Adali’s distaste, completed the picture and ensured it smelled even less like a man-made outfit. The five-foot-four, slim, blonde East German National was into nail varnish, nice clothes and fluffy teddy bears. A rotten, stinking ghillie suit didn’t quite go with that image, but she persevered, trusting Keifer’s instinct that it would help them escape discovery.
Keifer shifted. “We need to move now, OK?”
He heard her sigh. “I can’t do this, I just can’t. I’m cold, tired, I want a pee and I stink.”
He gripped her face gently between his two hands and pulled her in close to him. He could feel the wetness around her eyes where she had been crying and he kissed them, tasting the salty tears. “We…can…do…this. We can’t turn back. If we go back now, there is a greater chance that we’ll get caught than if we continue. If we turn around now, Adali, we will get caught.”
He felt her head nod slightly.
“Right. I’ll check the area, you take a pee. OK?”
She responded with a barely audible whisper. “Yes…”
Keifer moved away and did a complete 360-degree circuit of their position before returning. “All done?”
“Yes.”
“OK. Move along the shrubs for about twenty metres and wait for me there. I will be right with you. Where did you pee?”
Had it been daylight, he would have seen her blush. “Over there, to your left.”
“Start moving. I’ll be right with you.”
She moved off and he pulled the side of his ghillie suit up onto his shoulder, giving him access to the small rucksack on his back underneath. Reaching behind with his right arm, he awkwardly pulled a small plastic bottle, a spray bottle containing a mixture of water and ammonia, from the side pocket. He pumped the trigger until there was a steady spray of the repulsive- smelling liquid cascading over the area that Adali had just used for her toiletry needs and the area where they had spent the night. The pungent smell made him wince. The idea was that it would mask their trail from any dogs the guards might take on patrol with them. He moved backwards slowly, at a crouch, spraying the ground behind him until he bumped into his fiancée who was stationary, waiting for him.
He checked the immediate area and found a gap in the sparse shrubbery where they could easily pass through, pulling it apart as Adali pushed through it. He sprayed the side they had just left then moved about two metres to the right, north-west, until he came upon a stretch of patchy shrubbery that disappeared in the darkness towards the south-west, heading deeper into the Sperrzone.