It was obvious from Grant's expression that he had something else on his mind. Adler stepped closer. "Whatcha thinking?"
Grant readjusted his cap, tugging on the brim till his brown eyes were in its shadow. "The woman. We've gotta find her. My gut's telling me she's a major part of this shit. Grigori, the only accurate information we've got on her is that she worked at Humboldt University. We need to know more. How quick can you get info out of the East Germans?"
"It is what I do," he smiled proudly, then flicked an ash from the tip of the cigar.
Adler motioned with his head. "What about Otto?"
"He didn't happen to give you an address for Steiner, did he?" Grant asked, as he tucked his hands into the side pockets of the leather jacket.
"The man's invisible, keeps a real low profile. Only time Otto sees him is when it's time for a meeting or by personal invitation."
"Did he give you a description?"
Adler nodded. "Matches the one we got from Lampson, so I guess we can rule out a disguise."
"Probably," Grant responded. "Looks like we've exhausted Otto's resources."
Moshenko asked, "You want me to take…?"
"One passenger is enough for you, Grigori. Thanks. No, I think we'll just give Herr Neus another ride ourselves. We'll give him a little something to help him sleep for a couple of hours. Joe and Manfred can leave him a few miles from the city's border. But, unfortunately for him, he'll be unable to produce the necessary papers for the border patrol." Grant glanced at Adler, who was patting his breast pocket. Neus' identification papers and money were tucked inside. The papers would be destroyed before they departed and the money given to Manfred. Grant continued: "And unless Neus is really stupid, I highly doubt he’ll be mentioning his relationship with the FSG to anyone, especially the border patrol."
Adler laughed, “And, I’ve got a good idea he thinks we may be a couple of Steiner’s men. Poor Otto — so confused!”
Grant turned toward the shed, then came to a sudden stop. "Son of a bitch! Son… of… a… bitch!"
"Tell us what you know, boss," Adler anxiously requested.
Grant pounded his fist against his palm. "I bet I know where those kids are, Joe!" Even Moshenko seemed stunned as both men waited for Grant to explain. "The lab! They're in the building above the lab. What better place? Two to one Steiner figured that if we found the lab and destroyed it, we'd be the ones responsible for killing the kids. We'd be the ones taking the heat. Did Otto say how often Steiner visited the lab?"
"Otto had never been there himself, but said Steiner usually told him when he went to check on the scientists. It seems lately he’s made a lot of visits.”
Grant pointed his index finger continuously at Adler as if driving home his statement. "You can bet your sweet ass he's checking on the kids."
"Oh, hell, here we go again… my ass!" Adler chuckled.
Moshenko broke off the end of the lighted cigar, then stuck the costly Havana in his pocket. "We have lots to do, my friends."
"Roger that," replied Grant, "and little time to do it in." His mind was swirling like a category three tornado. "Step one is to see Lampson off safely." He turned to Moshenko. "The chopper's at Schonefeld, right?" The Soviet nodded. "Okay. I know you can fly that thing low and fast enough to hide from radar. So, we'll need you to pick us up here, early, before daybreak, let's say 0430 hours. After we pick up Lampson, can you make a side trip and drop us close to East Berlin?"
Moshenko instantly pictured and calculated the entire flight plan, then responded, "Da. That should still give me plenty of time to get him to Gdansk then come back to East Berlin and catch a flight back to Moscow."
"We'll huddle over a map now and talk coordinates, then tonight I'll contact Marie at our prearranged time. She can drive Lampson to the site."
Moshenko said, "I know a place where we had practiced maneuvers one time with our East German comrades. It should be away from prying eyes."
"Sounds good." Grant could only imagine what Lampson's reaction would be when he saw a Soviet-made chopper being piloted by a Russian officer. "Lampson’s going to have a heart attack when he sees you, Grigori!" Moshenko just shrugged his shoulders and smiled.
"We staying with Marie after, or what?" Adler asked.
"'Or what,'" Grant answered. "We've got to get her out of the picture as soon as possible. Joe, get one of the maps and we'll talk coordinates."
Within five minutes Adler came out of the shed grinning, as he handed the rolled up map to Grant. "Listen, while you two start your discussion, I think I'd better give Otto a potty break. I'd prefer not to have to clean up after him."
Grant and Moshenko knelt on the ground, tracing planned routes along the map and finally settling on the coordinates.
Adler emerged from the shed, smiling. "When we going after the lab?" He rubbed his hands together as if he were a child anxiously anticipating Christmas morning.
"We'll give Grigori some time to make inquiries into who our mysterious woman is. While he's doing that, we'll run surveillance on the lab and see if we can find the kids."
"What if we don't find them?" Grant just had to give Adler an all too familiar look that seemed to say, You doubt me? "Okay, okay," Adler conceded, lifting his arms as if surrendering. "After we find them, when do we eliminate the lab?"
"You'll be in charge of guarding the kids, while I… "
"Whoa! Just a damn minute, sir. No way are you gonna have all the fun on this one. Besides, I've got the ordnance experience. Remember, UDT and EOD (Underwater Demolition Team, Explosive Ordnance Disposal)?"
"Look, Joe, if it goes wrong, you've gotta get those kids out. You speak German like a native. You'll be their only hope."
Adler frowned as he turned away from Grant, pondering the unspoken order. He faced Grant again, throwing his hands up in defeat. "Okay, but I don't like it."
"You don't have to," Grant retorted.
"What'll happen with all the chemicals? Any side-effects to worry about?"
"Not according to Lampson. The drug has to be ingested by mouth or needle. And he figured they're still a couple weeks away from bringing it together. Besides, any chemicals should expedite the destruction of the lab." Grant responded to Adler's unasked question. "We'll rely on Grigori's art of persuasion to convince the Russians to pull the plug on the East German's project."
"And what about Steiner?" Adler asked, as he slid his index finger across his throat.
"Only if he accidentally falls on my knife. Otherwise, we'll leave it up to the Russians and East Germans to take care of him in whatever way they see fit. Sound okay, Grigori?"
"We will look after him, my friends, and also have a serious talk with our East German comrades who allowed this to happen in the first place." He thought about his statement then added, "Of course, if their security was as it should be, your Agent Lampson might be in prison, or perhaps… even dead."
"It's a chance we all take, my friend. Lampson was damn lucky this time." Grant reached inside his jacket pocket, pulling out his wallet. He removed several large bills, handing them to Adler. "Joe, could you take this to Manfred? Ask him if he can make a quick trip in the morning to buy those kids some clothes, especially jackets and boots. They probably don’t have squat.”
“Can you give me an idea on what size he needs to buy?”
“Just tell him they’re two years old.”
“Right.”
Grant put his wallet away while he looked toward the west, as the last rays of the sun painted brilliant streaks of burnt orange across the horizon. "It'll be dark soon." He zipped up his jacket. "I'll go get your car, Grigori. While I'm gone, would you mind helping Joe get Otto ready?"