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Subject: {ASSM} Cinderella 2 Ch.5 by Rachael Ross (Fantasy, Romance, Transgender,  Oral, Anal)
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	A Cinderella Story
	Copyright 2007-2009 Severe Productions Ltd. All rights reserved.
	Intended for adults only. TS.Severe@yahoo.com


	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

	A Cinderella Story
	By T.S.Severe

	Cinderella 2 - Chapter 5




    The sharp rapping brought Wolfgang gracefully off the hardwood
floor and quickly to his feet. He reached for his Glock 29, sweeping
the pistol from the coffee table and moving towards the bedroom. There
he found Eva as she emerged fresh from her bath, wet and wrapped in a
thin bathrobe. She held a large, Colt .45 semi-automatic and the young
woman smiled at her brother as she slapped a full magazine into the
butt and pulled back on the slide, letting it spring forward with a
satisfying sound.

    "I'll be right here," Wolfgang said softly, taking a position so
he would have a clear line of sight into the sitting room and the
front door.

    They'd been waiting for this with growing tension and they were
both relieved that the moment was upon them. Wolfgang's hand was
steady despite being flushed and damp with sweat from his exertions.
He'd been doing sit-ups to relieve the stressful tedium and he wiped a
bead of perspiration from his left temple. Eva's solution had been to
soak in a hot bath for several hours and read from The Mysteries of
Udolpho.

    Eva entered the sitting room from their bedroom, padding silently
on her bare feet. She approached the door slowly, pausing at the wall
beside it, careful to remain clear of her brother's line of fire.

    The rapping came again, sounding impatient.

    "Who is it?" she asked in clear voice.

    "Dieter," a man's voice replied and Eva looked at Wolfgang,
nodding her head.

    She reached across the door and turned the bolt with a loud snick
and then drew back once more. "The door is open, Detective List."

    A second later the door swung slowly on its hinges towards her and
a tall man in a dark overcoat stood framed in the gray afternoon
light. He caught sight of Wolfgang standing to his left and frowned
for a second before finally stepping into the flat, dripping rain
water around his leather shoes. Eva closed the door behind him with
her left hand and pressed the cold steel of her pistol against the
back of the man's neck, forcing him to tilt his face down as his empty
hands rose slowly.

    "It's nice to see you again, Eva," he said without humor. "We were
worried about you."

    "Shut-up," she breathed. "Unbutton your coat. Are you alone?"

    "I'm alone," List answered, undoing his buttons with slow,
deliberate fingers. "I don't know you, but...you look familiar to me."

    He was speaking to Wolfgang who was only slightly more relaxed and
still covering the man with his pistol. Wolfgang didn't bother to
reply, but merely gave a tiny shrug of his shoulders.

    "That's enough," Eva said, knocking the man's hand away and
reaching inside his coat.

    "You don't have to be nervous," List said with a small jerk as Eva
pulled the man's pistol free of the holster at his hip. It was a
standard issue, 9mm Glock 17 and Eva dropped the gun to the floor and
kicked it towards Wolfgang.

    "You should be nervous," Eva said, frisking the man expertly. "Or
didn't they mention that I asked for you personally?"

    The policeman didn't answer, but Eva thought she saw some small
hint of surprise in his hazel eyes.

    She pulled out his Police ID, a thin wallet that she opened for a
quick glance and a derisive snort. "Inspector List? You were promoted
I see."

    "This is Germany." The man shrugged. "Failure has its own
rewards."

    "Not for me!" Eva retorted, shoving the wallet back into his coat.
"What was my reward, eh?"

    "The left pocket is what you want," List said slowly. "We were all
very sorry for what happened to you, Eva. I..." he started turning his
head, "...was very sorry."

    "Don't move," Eva told him, reinforcing her command with a push of
her gun into his flesh. "You betrayed me Dieter. You left me there,
with those pigs. I trusted you."

    "Eva, the Interior Minister shut us down," List tried to explain
calmly. "We couldn't get you out without compromising..."

    "I trusted you!" she screamed at him, taking a sudden half-step
backwards with the pistol now against Dieter's right cheek, indenting
the soft skin. Her arm was straight and he could see the tendons in
her wrist and forearm as Eva tightened her fingers.

    List closed his eyes, wincing and holding his breath. Nobody moved
for a long second and the tension was palpable. Eva had dreamt of this
moment many times, trying to imagine what she would say to the man who
had been her only lifeline out of the criminal underworld in which
she'd been living. The only man who knew exactly where she was and
what she was doing, until the one day when she'd needed him most.

    "No, Eva...Don't..." Wolfgang told her gently, braced for the
explosion he knew was coming.

    Eva's finger was tight on the trigger and a few more grams of
pressure, maybe only one more...

    She had to concentrate, finding the strength to let her hand
relax. She forced the anger back down, burning like a fire in her
belly as Eva took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She nodded her
head and reached to find a thick brown envelope in Dieter's left coat
pocket, exactly as he'd told her she would.

    "You have him?" she asked her brother and Wolfgang nodded, very
happy that the man's brains weren't spattered on the wall.

    "I'm glad you can still control your temper." List tried to smile,
but the relief was plain on his face and his voice was weak.

    "I killed you a thousand times, Dieter," Eva told him, lowering
her pistol and walking away. "I don't need to do it again."

    Eva kept her gun in her hand, ripping open the envelope with her
teeth and spilling its contents onto the coffee table. She picked up a
newly issued German passport and opened it, seeing her face in a photo
four years old and taken from her old personnel file with the Berlin
Police. There was a birth certificate and driver's license, voter
registration and other assorted papers, all valid and identifying her
as the twenty-five year old Eva Koeller.

    "It's all there," List told her, watching Eva but always aware of
Wolfgang and his pistol. "Everything you asked for. I've been
instructed to say that if we ever hear from you again..."

    "You won't," Eva replied icily.

    "...We will not be so accommodating," List finished. "Do you
understand?"

    "Ja," Eva nodded and turned her intense blue eyes on the man. "You
tell them I understand perfectly. And if I hear from you..."

    "You won't," List smiled without humor.

    "...I will make all of you very sorry," Eva said softly. "Get out...
No, leave your pistol. They'll give you another, I'm sure."

    "Eva," List paused at the open door and the policeman's eyes were
soft. "I'm glad you're alive."

    She closed the door behind him, snapping the bolt and turning her
back to it as she collapsed slowly to the floor. Eva held her head in
her hands, drawing her knees to her chest and weeping quietly. Her
body shook and shivered with the uncontrollable emotions that suddenly
filled her. Wolfgang crouched beside her, removing her pistol gently
and safeing it. He sat with the girl, pulling Eva against his chest as
Wolfgang tried to comfort her.

    "We have to leave now," Wolfgang said and the sun was going down,
weak behind the thick rain clouds that covered the city.

    "I know," Eva blinked her red rimmed eyes and forced herself to
smile. "I'm okay. It's over now."

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    The Kuenst district was an old industrial park to east of Berlin,
constructed over forty years before to house military stores for the
Red Army. Now the dirty concrete buildings were used by local
manufacturers and retailers to warehouse appliances and other consumer
goods. Traffic was light and consisted mainly of trucks which had been
loaded during the day and would drive through the evening towards
their destinations across Germany.

    "How well do you know this man?" Wolfgang asked as he drove his
Audi past a row of elongated warehouses still bearing faded signs in
Russian Cyrillic, most of them spray painted over with obscene
graffiti.

    "He fucked me," Eva said, "if that's what you mean."

    "No," Wolfgang glanced at his sister. "That isn't what I mean."

    "I don't know him very well," Eva admitted. "But he's a
businessman. Freddie liked him."

    "A good recommendation, I suppose," Wolfgang said with a hint of
sarcasm.

    Eva let it go, turning her head to look out the window. This was
easier for her, after what she'd been through, and what doubts she had
were only those concerned with their safety. Wolfgang was still
struggling with his good conscience, with the bitterness of his own
betrayal by the country he'd served. The sins of his father had
weighed heavily and unfairly against him, forcing the man onto
another, darker path. He didn't like it, however, and it had taken Eva
nearly a week to persuade him that they had no choice.

    "There," Eva pointed and Wolfgang nodded as he saw the black BMW
parked near the loading docks of warehouse 1066, the numbers painted
in white on the gray cinderblock wall.

    He parked beside the other car and looked at his sister. "If
something goes wrong, you keep your head down..."

    "I know what to do," Eva smiled at him. "I wasn't a schoolteacher,
Wolfgang."

    "Hmph," he grunted as Eva pulled back the slide of her .45 and let
it go with a loud, mechanical snap. She thumbed the safety and put the
heavy weapon in her purse, leaving it unzipped.

    "Let's go," she said lightly, reaching for the door handle.

    Eva adjusted her skirt, a short one made of red vinyl, while she
waited for Wolfgang. It showed her long legs to good advantage in
their black stockings. She wore a black t-shirt over her braless
breasts and a denim jacket over that. Her platinum hair was loose
around her shoulders and her face made up with dark eye shadow and red
lipstick. She was growing more attractive by the day it seemed to
Wolfgang and he couldn't help but smile as he suffered Eva's impatient
gaze.

    He carried his 10mm Glock 29 in a thin shoulder harness, with the
attached suppressor reaching nearly to his hip as he stood up. It was
a small pistol, but bulky nonetheless, and the wool overcoat Wolfgang
wore over his suit worked well to conceal the weapon. He combed his
thick brown hair back with his fingers, and moved to join Eva, both of
them walking towards an open door to the right of the loading docks.

    This was Eva's deal and the girl was plainly excited. Wolfgang
suspected it was simply because they had been stuck in that small
apartment for nearly a month. Even their daily exercise, the morning
runs and the regular trips to a local fitness club, hadn't taken the
edge off the continual waiting while they decided what to do. Neither
of them had much patience for sitting around, although it had given
them a good excuse to enjoy many pleasurable hours in bed together.

    Now at least they were doing something, meeting a man whom Eva had
tracked down over several days, getting a phone number and setting up
a meeting. No specific reasons for the rendezvous had been asked for
or given, but the understanding was clear. Eva and her new friend were
looking for work, employment of a much different sort than what either
of them had ever done before.

    The man they were looking for was sitting in a small office with
big windows on two sides overlooking the large warehouse. The desk was
cluttered with papers, shipping invoices and schedules. There was a
Seagram's calendar on the wall, two years old and featuring a busty
blonde in a yellow bikini. Someone had penned nipples and pubic hair
on her, Eva noted, and a Hitler mustache as well. It looked like a
typical comptroller's office, down to the ripped vinyl chairs and the
half-empty coffee pot sitting atop a dented, yellow filing cabinet.

    "Eva!" The man smiled at her and he appeared to be completely
alone. "The last person I would ever expect to see in a place like
this!"

    He stood up from the desk, moving quickly around it despite his
bulk. Wolfgang thought he looked rather like a big bowling pin with a
huge gut and scrawny chest and shoulders. His head was round and
balding, with thin black hair combed over the top in a vain attempt to
hide it. His trousers were large and his white shirt wrinkled with the
sleeves rolled up.

    "Do you want a toaster oven?" he asked, gesturing at the neat
stacks of cardboard boxes behind him, loaded on pallets and wrapped in
plastic. "I have thousands of the damn things. Fucking China. They're
killing us, you know? Hello."

    "Good evening," Wolfgang returned the man's greeting, but kept his
eyes wandering.

    "Oss Fromme, this is my friend, Wolfgang," Eva made the
introductions.

    "Wolfgang," he said with a smile. "Good. You can relax. My men are
gone for the day."

    "You mean you really work here?" Eva asked, giving the man a
petulant smile.

    "Work here?" Fromme chuckled and waved his arm. "I own it! I have
six more just like it too. Come into the office, I'll tell you..." he
put his arm around Eva's waist, drawing an unseen frown from Wolfgang.
"After the Wall came down, I almost bought apartments. But then I
thought, who wants to deal with the tenants? Boxes are much easier,
believe me! They just sit there. Do you want coffee? It's hot."

    "No," Eva declined with a patient smile and Wolfgang shook his
head as Fromme glanced over his shoulder at him.

    "Sit down here," the man gestured towards the chairs near his
desk. "I'll sit back here...and...so?"

    Fromme took his chair behind the desk, folding his hands over his
ample stomach and leaning back with a smile. He seemed amused by
Wolfgang, who wasn't sure whether or not to believe they were alone.
But it was Eva who garnered most of the man's attention and Wolfgang
tried to put out of his mind the unwanted image of the man fucking his
sister.

    "You look well," Fromme said with a sincere look. "I wondered what
had become of you. It's been so long and with that business in
Hamburg..."

    "Did that bother you?" Eva asked, trying to gauge how much of the
man was real and how much for show. She knew little about him, but
enough to know that Fromme wasn't just some warehouse middleman
shipping toasters.

    "Hmmm...It was annoying," he shrugged. "But that's capitalism, yeah?
Business has its ups and downs. I survived. You too, eh?"

    "What do you mean?" Eva tilted her head.

    "There are some people who would like to talk to you," Fromme told
her. "From the East, you know? They very much want to meet the man who...
How should I put it? Redecorated the bath in your old room?"

    "I don't know who he was." Eva shrugged, leaning towards the man
and wrinkling her nose playfully. "I was under the weather that
night."

    "Of course you were!" Fromme laughed, turning his eyes on
Wolfgang. "You take good care of her, yeah? I like Eva more than I
like the Russians, but there are some..."

    "We'll be careful," Wolfgang agreed stiffly.

    "More careful than today, I hope." Fromme lost his smile and his
dark eyes were sharp like a rodent's. "What do you want from me?"

    "Work," Eva said. "We need something to do. Some money."

    "And what do you think I would have for you, Eva?" Fromme's smile
returned as he faced the girl. "Your man can stack boxes, I suppose,
but you...What could a girl like you do for me, I wonder?"

    "Don't tease me, Oss." Eva sat back, crossing her legs and giving
the man a frown. "I'm looking for a favor, that's all. Something good
for us, something good for you."

    "I'm doing you a favor right now," he said. "Too many more would
not be healthy for either of us."

    "Let's go," Wolfgang said softly.

    "How much are the Russians paying?" Eva asked, ignoring Wolfgang.
"To find Yuri's killer?"

    "I'm not sure." Fromme narrowed his eyes. "A million rubles, I
heard. Some twenty-five thousand Euros, give or take. Why?"

    "I can give him to you," Eva said with a smile.

    "Hmmm..." Fromme rocked slowly, his old chair screeching in protest.
"This is why I love you, Eva..." he wagged a finger and laughed. "I
never know what you're going to say."

    "I'll give you the man," she said. "You give us something we can
use."

    "Okay," Fromme said after a long moment's thought, spreading his
arms and glancing at Wolfgang. "Where is he?"

    "In here," Eva told him, sliding her hand inside her purse and
pulling out the pistol. She flicked the safety off and pointed the .45
at Fromme's chest.

    "Ahhh..." He blinked at her as the color drained from his face.

    "Oh. I'm sorry, Oss."

    Eva laughed lightly, adjusting her grip on the weapon and pushing
the magazine release so that it fell to land heavily on the desk. She
worked the slide quickly, ejecting the round in the breech and sending
it towards her brother. Wolfgang's quick hand snatched it out of the
air and he gave her an amused look, setting the bullet on the desk as
his sister locked the weapon open. Eva placed the gun in front of
their host and leaned back with a satisfied smile on her face.

    "Heh!" Fromme swallowed thickly and licked his lips. "Nice. Thank
you for scaring the shit out of me...But, what is that supposed to
mean?"

    "It belonged to Yuri's man, the big one," Eva said. "I forget his
name. He had blonde hair, always showing everyone his big American
pistol..."

    "Yeah yeah..." Fromme waved his hand. "I remember him. So?"

    "He loved this gun," Eva grinned. "And whoever killed Yuri took it
from him, so whoever has it...Don't you know anyone who might fit that
description?"

    "I see, yes..." Fromme leaned forward, picking up the Colt and
turning it over in his hands. "They're not very common these days, are
they? I don't know why it didn't occur to me before, but I think I
know someone with a gun exactly like this."

    "Really?" Eva nodded slowly, giving Wolfgang a glance. He just
widened his brown eyes and gave her a barely perceptible shake of his
head, wondering where this idea had come from.

    "Oh yes," Fromme sighed. "A very troublesome young man. Always
asking for more money, you know? A bigger cut. I never trust the
greedy ones."

    "I don't blame you," Eva said, watching as the man took the pistol
and the magazine, putting them both inside one of the drawers of his
desk.

    "You know," Fromme looked at Wolfgang, "your friend reminds me of
this man. They have a similar look. But of course you're not a greedy
man, are you Wolfgang?"

    "No," Wolfgang said quietly, staring into the man's eyes. "I only
want what's mine."

    "So I see," Fromme said with a nod, turning back to Eva. "Alright.
There's a man I know. He comes to Berlin every Tuesday morning, like
clockwork on the train from Antwerp."

    "Antwerp?" Wolfgang asked.

    "How much do you know about diamonds?" Fromme smiled back at him.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    Edwin Brandt was much older than Eva remembered, as the man had to
be given the nearly seventeen years since she'd last seen her father.
But even Wolfgang remarked to himself how much the ex-Stasi member had
changed after nearly three years imprisonment.

    He'd escaped justice, if that's indeed what it was, for over a
decade after the reunification of Germany. Edwin had disappeared like
so many other East German officials into the anonymous chaos of a
nation trying to rebuild itself. As a major in the former Ministry of
State Security, he'd been able to secure for himself documents hiding
his true past. He took a modest job and Edwin and his wife adjusted to
their shifting fortunes. Wolfgang, their only child, had been only
nine years old when the Wall came down and so it was easier for him.
He knew nothing about his father's previous work and the arrest of his
father some fourteen years later had come as a rude surprise.

    "You will stay seated at all times. Do not attempt to touch him or
give him anything. If he tries to give you something, do not take it.
You will have fifteen minutes..."

    Wolfgang and Eva listened patiently as the uniformed guard spoke,
nodding their heads. They'd already been photographed and
fingerprinted, catalogued into the database for persons wishing to
visit criminals against the state. It was very much unlike visiting a
murderer or thief, Edwin had been convicted of treason and political
crimes against the German people. He and others like him were kept
separate from the regular criminals, in a special prison outside
Stuttgart. This was for their protection as even the worst criminals
held nothing but hatred and contempt for ex-Stasi agents.

    They sat at a large metal table fixed to the concrete floor in a
room devoid of anything but cinderblock walls, surveillance cameras,
and a two way mirror. Opposite Wolfgang and Eva was another chair,
empty for five minutes until a manacled Edwin Brandt was shuffled into
the room by two burly guards holding his arms. He was seated gently,
they weren't rough with the man, and the guards moved back to stand
near the door behind their prisoner.

    "Wolfgang," the man breathed, swallowing thickly as his brown eyes
searched his son's face.

    "Hello, Father." Wolfgang tried to hide his frown. The man was
barely fifty years old and he looked sixty, thin and pale. Edwin's
face was deeply lined, almost haggard in appearance, and his shoulders
were slumped, giving him a stooped and frail posture.

    "And..." Edwin's eyes went to Eva, his eyes blinking rapidly as they
grew suddenly wet. His voice cracked as he tried to say her name and
he cleared his throat, grasping at some hidden reserve of strength.

    "Eva," he said, stronger this time and nodding his head. "You're
really here?"

    "I'm here, Papa." Eva leaned into the table, stretching her arms
towards the man, and though they were separated by two full meters,
one of the guards shifted deliberately to catch her attention and
remind the girl of the rules.

    "You found her," Edwin looked at his son with a glimmer of
paternal pride that Wolfgang remembered all too well.

    "I saw your file," Wolfgang started to explain, but Edwin held up
his chained hands to stop him.

    "I'm sorry you have to see me this way. Both of you," Edwin sighed
and he kept his eyes on Wolfgang. "They wouldn't let me go to the
funeral."

    "I know," Wolfgang replied.

    "Was it...good? Was it nice for her?" Edwin asked and his son
nodded.

    "I took care of it, Father."

    "And your mother?" Edwin turned his sad eyes on Eva.

    "She's well, Papa." Eva tried to smile, wiping at her eyes. "I
missed you so much. I thought you were dead. She told me you weren't,
but I didn't believe her. You never came back."

    "I know," Edwin nodded, taking a ragged breath. "It wasn't safe. I
was...afraid. I'm sorry."

    "Is it true?" Wolfgang asked, unable to wait any longer. "What
they said about you?"

    "Yes," Edwin answered softly. "I can't explain, but you must
believe me, Wolfgang. I love Germany. I didn't betray..."

    "No." Wolfgang shook his head.

    "...my country," Edwin continued. "The truth is not life. Do you
understand?"

    "I do not," Wolfgang said. "You should have told me, Father. You
should have trusted me."

    "I was protecting you," Edwin said, shifting his eyes to Eva. "I
was protecting both of you."

    "You were using me," Wolfgang told him. "When I joined the police,
and later, when I applied for GSG-9, do you remember? We celebrated.
You were very happy for me..."

    "Of course I was," Edwin said. "I was so proud of you, Wolfgang.
You always made me happy."

    "Did you think I would save you?" Wolfgang asked his father,
clearly believing it was truth. "I would use my position to hide your
crimes?"

    "No!" Edwin said and then slapped his hands on the table. "Never!
I never asked you..."

    "Calm down, Herr Brandt..." one of the guards said and Edwin glanced
over his shoulder.

    "It was what you wanted," the old man said softly. "I did not
suggest anything. I have only loved you."

    "Don't be angry, Wolfgang," Eva whispered, putting her hand on her
brother's thigh, squeezing him. "Please? Don't hurt him this way."

    "I've lost my job," Wolfgang said coldly, staring across the
table. "Everything I wanted since I was a little boy, my future, is in
here. Locked up with you."

    "I'm sorry." Edwin looked down, nodding his head and he seemed
even more shrunken as he listened to his son.

    "They dismissed me because of you. Because of your lies," Wolfgang
continued, his voice louder. "My application was false. They didn't
believe me when I told them I didn't know what my father had done.
They don't trust me anymore."

    "Wolfgang!" Eva clutched her brother's arm, shaking him. "Stop
this!"

    "Because of you, Father." Wolfgang ignored Eva, sitting stiff and
upright, staring at his father's bowed head.

    "I wish to leave now," Edwin said weakly. "Guards!"

    "Papa! No. We have more time..." Eva frowned at the guards as they
approached the man.

    "It is nice to see you again, Eva." Edwin looked up and she could
see his cheeks flushed and wet with tears, like her own. "I've longed
for this day with dread in my heart..."

    "...And with its arrival," her voice cracked and she tilted her head
with trembling lips. "My dread doth depart."

    "My good girl." Edwin nodded as the guards took him by the arms.
"You remember."

    "Yes, Papa." Eva wiped her face, trying to smile at the man. "I'll
never forget anything you told me."

    "Good," Edwin breathed, standing up between the guards. "I love
you both. Don't...Don't come back. Please."

    "Let's go, Herr Brandt..." The guards turned him towards the door.

    "We love you," Eva whispered and when the door closed heavily
behind their father she turned on her brother.

    SLAP!

    "Why? I hate you! Why did you do that?" Eva slapped his cheek
again and then pressed herself against Wolfgang, burying her face into
his chest as she began to sob uncontrollably.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    Forty-eight hours later the phone rang in their Frankfurt am Main
apartment. The place was modest and very comfortable, despite its
outward appearance. The building itself was a reproduction of an
original structure dating from the late 14th century. The once famous
medieval city center had been destroyed during World War Two and had
later been rebuilt with stone and thick timber to exacting
specifications. The fa�ade was painted white with brown trim while the
interior was fresh and modern, with all the comforts one would expect.

    Located in Altstadt and with a view of the river over lesser
rooftops to the rear, it faced the medieval town square of Romerberg.
The price was outlandish, even in the off-tourist season of late
autumn, and Wolfgang, being practical by nature, had protested the
expense. His sister had a different opinion however and looked upon
their stay as an extended honeymoon.

    The phone rang again and Eva scowled as Wolfgang left her.

    "Yes?" he answered, unsure why anyone would be calling. The phone
had come with the furnished apartment, which was the only reason they
had one at all.

    Eva looked over her shoulder, wearing nothing but a pair of flimsy
black lace panties as she leaned over the balcony. It opened from the
bedroom and sat five stories above a narrow street of cobblestone. On
the opposite side was a shorter building, equally authentic in style,
and home to a wonderful pastry shop. Across the dark tiled roof were
more buildings, several blocks of them until her gaze reached the busy
river Main with its barges and transports moving slowly. And beyond
the river, in Neustadt, she could see the modern skyscrapers that set
Frankfurt apart from so many other European cities.

    "Wolfgang Brandt?" a man's voice asked through the receiver.

    "Yes," he answered cautiously. "Who is this?"

    "An old friend," the man said mysteriously. "I'm in town and I
thought we could have lunch together. Is Eva with you?"

    "Who is it?" Eva asked, catching her brother's eyes as he looked
up suddenly.

    "She is," Wolfgang replied. "I'm sorry, but I didn't get your
name."

    "Do you know the Leinwandhaus? Perhaps we could meet there?" The
man ignored Wolfgang's question. "Two o'clock?"

    "What? Who are you?" he asked.

    "Don't worry, Wolfgang," the voice reassured him. "I look forward
to seeing the both of you again."

    "Again?" Wolfgang asked, but the man had already disconnected and
Wolfgang stared at the handset he was still holding.

    "What is it?" Eva asked, crossing the bedroom. "What's wrong?"

    "I'm not sure," Wolfgang replaced the phone in its cradle. "We've
been invited to lunch."

    "Lunch?" Eva smiled with confusion. "By who?"

    "An old friend," Wolfgang answered, sucking his top lip pensively.
"I didn't recognize his voice."

    "Did he say what he wanted?" Eva asked and her brother shook his
head.

    "Two o'clock at the linen drapers' hall."

    "The police you think?" Eva frowned.

    "No," Wolfgang said. "They wouldn't be so polite if they wanted to
arrest us."

    "Perhaps they want to ask us questions?" Eva suggested, but
neither of them thought the police had any suspicions. They were not
hiding, as evidenced by their visit to their father.

    "Someone else," he decided with a frown. "A friend of yours
perhaps."

    "Not Russian?" she asked him.

    "No accent," Wolfgang said with a shrug.

    Fromme had in fact been able to pass someone else off as Yuri's
killer. The young man had denied it at first, of course, but
eventually a man will confess to anything if it will make the pain go
away. Fromme had been happy to collect a reward and Eva was no longer
of much interest to the Russians. They had the satisfaction they'd
been looking for. It had worked out well for all concerned, but the
phone call was troubling and neither of them liked it.

    "Dubert?" Eva wondered, but it was unlikely that anyone could tie
them to his murder after all this time.

    "I don't know," Wolfgang sighed, knowing that idle speculation
would get them nowhere. He picked up his watch from an antique
dresser. "We have a few hours," he said, looking at his sister. "What
do you want to do?"

    "Hmmm..." Eva smiled, sliding her palms up her flat stomach to her
dark nipples.

    "Silly question," Wolfgang breathed, feeling his heart quicken the
way it did everytime she teased him like that.

    He took her over an ornate chair of carved oak with Eva's knees
spread wide on the red velvet cushion. She'd been off the heroin for
two months and the young woman's body had recovered remarkably well.
She had gained her weight back, mostly in the form of muscle, and
rebounded from a little over forty kilos to a much more attractive 50
kilograms that better suited her 1.8m stature. She could even keep up
with Wolfgang during his workouts, although he hadn't really started
to push her quite yet.

    "You're beautiful now," Wolfgang breathed, standing behind her and
sliding his swollen cock in and out of the girl's sex.

    "Ummm...Tease me..." Eva arched her back, enjoying Wolfgang's fingers
as they explored the new muscles in her shoulders.

    Her platinum blonde hair was shorter now, closely cropped on the
sides and back, but Eva had kept it long on top and her bangs fell to
her panting mouth. Her high cheeks were flushed pink and her blue eyes
closed against the pleasure of their sex. Eva gripped the back of the
chair tightly, using the heavy frame to push herself back and meet
Wolfgang's hips with the soft slapping sound of flesh on flesh.

    Wolfgang had let his hair grow out as well and it was a tangle of
dark brown spilling over his ears and around his collar. He'd stopped
shaving at Eva's insistence, not growing a full beard, but keeping a
week's growth on his cheeks and chin, as if he were some Bohemian
artist, or a drug dealer as his sister liked to joke. It was a good
look for him and she thought it made Wolfgang look a little less like
a law student, which was her most common and playful complaint.

    "Up...I want you to cum..." Wolfgang urged his sister, putting his
hands beneath her and pulling the girl upward by her breasts. They
were small and firm and Wolfgang delighted in her long, swollen
nipples every chance he had.

    "Ohhh...Like...This..." Eva smiled over her shoulder, kneeling upright
as Wolfgang pulled her back against his chest.

    He moved his right hand low, across her hard stomach to find their
wet union between her thighs. She was smooth down there, clean shaven
and sticky with her juices. Wolfgang slid his fingers across the thin
swell of her pubis and felt the turgid nub of Eva's clitoris and just
beneath that his own thickness splitting her aroused labia.

    Wolfgang played with her cunt while they fucked, rubbing her clit
and pinching it against his shaft with his thumb. His other arm was
wrapped around her chest, his left hand cupping Eva's right breast,
the palm pressed hard against it the way she liked. The pressure felt
good, the discomfort welcome as she twisted her own arms to hold
Wolfgang's head and shoulders close. She was going to cum for him, the
way she nearly always did, and not so much from what Wolfgang was
doing to her physically as emotionally.

    She loved him, and loved being held and touched and kissed. Eva
loved the way he fucked her. As always the man was intent on making it
good for her. Eva's sex tightened noticeably as she groaned with her
orgasm, turning her face to find Wolfgang's mouth. She trembled while
he continued to move against her, not withdrawing too far, but more
grinding his cock against the feverish confines of Eva's cunt. He
would cum soon as well, she could bring him off easily it seemed,
whenever the girl wanted.

    Eva laughed breathlessly, smiling and licking her lips as she
watched Wolfgang's face. He was trying to hold himself back and she
worked her pelvic muscles, tightening the mouth of her sex with a
rhythm she'd long since perfected as a whore. Wolfgang was groaning
with the effort of holding himself back, feeling the knot of desire
low in his belly as he tried to last one moment more, and then he
surrendered completely with a sharp gasp. His cock pulsed with a
violent rush of semen deep inside Eva's sex, flooding her for the
second time that morning with his incestuous seed.

    Their sex had been too brief, only five minutes perhaps, and they
were reluctant to break their union. Wolfgang kept himself buried
inside her, kissing Eva while he massaged her breasts and played his
fingertips around her dripping sex. The juices leaked around his cock
as it began to soften and shrink and eventually slip from the girl's
gaping cunt with a sticky wash of their combined cum. He fingered
Eva's hole, pushing two fingers inside to feel himself coating the
soft walls of her pussy.

    "Open..." he whispered, bringing his hand to her mouth, sliding his
fingers between Eva's parted lips and across her tongue. She washed
the juices with her tongue, sucking at the salty flavor of their sex
and moaning for his pleasure. The scent of their combined arousal was
intoxicating and when Wolfgang's fingers were clean she kissed him,
pushing her tongue into his mouth to eagerly share what she hadn't
swallowed.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-==-=-=

    "It's a public place anyway," Wolfgang said as he adjusted the
knot in his tie.

    As much as Eva tried to change her brother's habits, she couldn't
talk him out of his taste in clothing. At least he had a better
selection now; after fencing the diamonds the couple had spent several
thousand dollars on a small, but decent wardrobe. She did have to
admit that the man looked good in a well tailored suit, navy blue in
this case and made of gabardine wool.

    "Is that for us, do you think?" Eva wondered. "Or for him?"

    "Both, I'd imagine," Wolfgang said, combing his fingers through
his damp hair, pushing it back from his smooth brow.

    "Hmmm..." Eva was straightening her dress, a form fitting Gaultier
suit in thin, black leather. It was worn with a leather jacket, rather
than something more conventional like a blazer. The design was
straight from the eighties and punk-couture was becoming once again
popular in Germany.

    Wolfgang checked his Glock 29, ejecting the magazine and clearing
the breech. He reloaded it while Eva did the same with her pistol, a
9mm Walther P5. The pistol was small and carried only an eight round
magazine, but it fit easily into her purse and being left handed, Eva
liked the unusual left side ejection that the gun used. She had a
suppressor for it, a baffled tube that she zipped inside the long
outer pocket of her bag. Wolfgang put his own weapon away, tucked in
the shoulder harness beneath his suit and indiscernible thanks to the
creative and discrete tailoring afforded by their modest wealth.

    "Are you ready?" Wolfgang looked at his watch. "We have forty
minutes."

    "Yeah." Eva nodded, arranging her passport and other papers in her
purse.

    They'd leave nothing in the apartment that they couldn't afford to
lose if they had to run unexpectedly. Thankfully that was largely
their weapons, papers, and some ten thousand Euros cash. The remainder
of their money was in a small suitcase, in a baggage check at the
Hauptbahnhof train station where Wolfgang's Audi was parked.

    The Leinwandhaus, or linen drapers' hall, was one of the old
city's many tourist attractions and while there weren't so many
foreigners on holiday as the summer months would bring, there were
several busses parked nearby. Hundreds of school children on a field
trip were filling the nearby square. Some of them obediently filing
behind their teachers, many more were left to explore the many shops
and souvenir and sweets laden kiosks. The day was pleasant and bright,
though with a chilly breeze that would gust every few minutes and
tousle Eva's hair into her face. She stopped at a small stand and
bought a pair of sunglasses, giving Wolfgang a little grin as she put
them on.

    The couple walked slowly together, moving casually and smiling and
sharing softly spoken words. Their eyes were never still, however,
never fixed as they catalogued their surroundings. The drapers' hall
was a large stone building dating from the thirteenth century and had
been the very center of the German textile industry for hundreds of
years before being gradually replaced with larger, newer structures as
technology progressed.

    Around it were the same narrow buildings crowded shoulder to
shoulder as the rest of Altstadt, and behind any one of a hundred
windows someone could be watching them. There was little Eva and
Wolfgang could do about that, but at least their very public
surroundings did lend them a small sense of security. There were many
avenues of escape, should it come to that, and they'd worked out plans
in case they were separated.

    "Do you want to sit for a minute?" Wolfgang asked half an hour
later, after making their wary circuit of the square and seeing
nothing that struck either of them as overly suspicious.

    "Yes," Eva agreed, looking down at her leather heels and one of
the ankle straps had come loose. "Next time I'll wear my running
shoes, yeah?"

    "Hmph," Wolfgang smiled as they sat down at a sidewalk caf�. A
colorful awning ruffled with the wind and it was much cooler in the
shade. A pink faced girl took their order for coffee and there was
little the pair could do but wait for someone to approach them.

    "Herr Brandt," a man smiled at Wolfgang. "Coffee. What an
excellent idea! Do you mind if I join you?"

    "Please..." Wolfgang gestured to an empty chair.

    He was young, perhaps the same age as Wolfgang or a little older,
but not yet thirty. His black hair was thick and neat, parted to the
right side above a strong, handsome face. He had a congenial smile,
showing off his pearly white teeth, and he was giving it to Eva as he
crossed his legs comfortably with his hands in his lap.

    "Eva, yes? May I see your eyes?" the man asked her. "I've only
heard rumors about them, you see."

    "What is your name?" Eva asked, removing her dark sunglasses and
folding them. She blinked for a moment and then held her gaze steady,
giving him an icy blue stare.

    "Yes. Exactly as I'd imagined," he said softly, nodding his head
in appreciation and then seemed to catch himself. "I'm sorry. Forgive
me. I'm Kurt Glauss. This is very awkward, I know. You must be very
curious."

    "What can we do for you, Herr Glauss?" Wolfgang asked, turning the
man's head as Eva put her glasses inside the purse on her lap, leaving
her hand on top of it.

    "Please, call me Kurt," he said. "I thought you would be more
comfortable meeting me here. I hope you don't mind."

    "Of course not," Wolfgang said as the waitress approached and they
waited until after Kurt had ordered.

    "I represent a small concern who would very much like to make your
acquaintance," Kurt said.

    "A concern?" Wolfgang wondered. "Is that a business?"

    "In a manner of speaking," the man agreed. "I'm sure you'll
understand if I don't go into detail at this time. My employer can
much better explain. I have a car waiting, in fact. It isn't far."

    "You want us to go with you?" Wolfgang asked, glancing at Eva who
offered no expression.

    "You may be reluctant. I sympathize completely." Kurt smiled,
looking back and forth between them and then at the waitress as she
delivered a cup of coffee for him.

    "If it will be easier for you," he continued after the girl was
gone, "I can remain here, with yourself or Eva, while one of you meets
my employer."

    "A hostage?" Eva looked at the man, her thin lips curling upward.

    "A gruesome word, isn't it?" Kurt chuckled. "A guarantee. A show
of good faith, if you like."

    "And if we're not interested in meeting this employer of yours?"
Wolfgang asked.

    "Then we have little else to talk about." Kurt shrugged. "We will
go our separate ways and you'll never hear from my employer again."

    "Is this a job offer?" Eva wondered.

    "You may think so," Kurt said pleasantly. "An interview,
certainly. Beyond that I don't know anything specific."

    "I'll meet this man," Wolfgang decided. "Eva will stay here with
you."

    "Splendid." Kurt looked at Eva and smiled, tilting his head to see
the girl threading a dark suppressor onto the barrel of her Walther
beneath the tablecloth. She gave it a sharp twist and looked at the
man with a smile of her own.

    "Are you armed, Herr Glauss?" she asked him softly and the man
lifted his hands a few centimeters off the table.

    "At the risk of offending you, I must confess that I'm completely
at your mercy," he said with sigh. "Of course, if you must insist..."

    "I must," Eva said with an apologetic smile, placing the weapon
carefully in her purse so it could be quickly drawn. "Shall we take a
walk?"

    "Very good," Kurt agreed, removing his wallet to pay the bill. "My
car is this way."

    Rounding the corner and away from the throng of school children
and tourists, Eva gave the man a gentle push towards a small alcove
where a stairway led upward. She frisked Glauss quickly with her right
hand, holding her pistol against his ribs with the other. Kurt didn't
protest, but merely waited patiently as the woman's hands roamed his
body.

    "What is this?" Eva chuckled when she found the man's penis
growing obviously erect in his trousers.

    "It must be your eyes, Fraulein," Kurt grinned over his shoulder
as she gave it a gentle squeeze. "Forgive me."

    "Is he clean?" Wolfgang asked, standing on the sidewalk and
keeping an eye on both Eva and the street.

    "Clean? No...But unarmed anyway," Eva replied, drawing a curious
look from her brother and a playful pout from Glauss. She replaced her
pistol in her purse, leaving it unzipped as it hung low from her left
shoulder.

    The car was a black Mercedes sedan with dark tinted windows and
the driver was waiting when Kurt opened the rear passenger door.
Wolfgang noted the S plates, signifying the car had been licensed in
Stuttgart and he wondered about that. The entire episode made him
uneasy, largely because he understood so little of it.

    "You'll be alright?" Wolfgang asked Eva and she nodded.

    "I'll bring him to the apartment and wait for your call," she
said.

    "Will I be able to call?" he asked Glauss.

    "I'm sure you will," Kurt said agreeably. "You won't be a
prisoner, Herr Brandt. I assure you."

    "Very well," Wolfgang said with a nod. "Be careful."

    "I love you," Eva whispered, stepping back with Glauss as Wolfgang
entered the car and pulled the door closed behind him. A moment later
the engine started with a soft growl and the Mercedes pulled away from
the curb, merging easily into the light traffic.

    "Well. Now that we're alone...May I call you Eva?" Kurt asked with a
smile and she rolled her eyes.

	=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

    "Put this on," the driver said, holding a blindfold over his
shoulder. It was of the sort people wear when they wish to sleep.

    "Seriously?" Wolfgang almost smiled as he took it from the man's
fingers.

    "Are you carrying a weapon, Herr Brandt?" the other man asked as
he started the car.

    "Yes," Wolfgang said.

    "Very well," the driver nodded, checking traffic before pulling
away. "Put the blindfold on."

    "Right," Wolfgang sighed. "Wake me up when we get there."

    The drive was a long one, although without looking at his watch
Wolfgang could only guess at the passing minutes. He was surprised to
find he actually did nap, or at least fall into the murky depths of
half-sleep while the car rolled smoothly along. It all seemed rather
over-dramatic to him, but Wolfgang took that as a good sign. Why would
anyone go through all this trouble if he wanted to kill them?
Something else was afoot and Wolfgang had no desire to try and guess
what it might be.

    "You may remove your blindfold now," the driver said. "We're
almost there."

    Wolfgang blinked at the late afternoon sunlight as he looked
through the tinted glass, seeing only trees on either side of a narrow
road. A few seconds later, through a break in the forest he saw a
large house, a country estate on the side of a wooded hill. There was
an expanse of lawn and hedgerows alongside ancient stone walls. He
lost sight of it again until the road turned and emerged from the
forest and Wolfgang realized the lane they were traveling had only one
destination. It wasn't a road, it was a very long driveway ending at
what must have been a carriage house during much of the estate's
history.

    The car stopped alongside several other expensive vehicles, parked
somewhat haphazardly. Another man was already opening the door before
Wolfgang could reach for the handle. The driver turned off the engine
and twisted his head and shoulders to look at his passenger.

    "You may leave your weapon here," the driver said. "On the seat.
No one with bother it."

    "Do I have a choice?" Wolfgang wondered rhetorically, eying the
Heckler and Koch MP7 hanging by a shoulder strap on the man outside.

    "Not if you wish to leave the car," the driver replied without
humor.

    "Very well," Wolfgang agreed, removing his pistol slowly and
placing it on the seat next to him.

    "If you'll follow me, Herr Brandt," the man holding the passenger
door said. "Herr Mozart is expecting you."

    "Mozart?" Wolfgang smiled. "This just gets better and better."

    There were other men providing security around the house and
grounds, Wolfgang noted. He saw at least three more men armed with MP7
submachine guns and doubtlessly there were others, concealed from
plain sight. Whoever this Mozart was, he certainly seemed to be a
cautious man and a wealthy one, judging from the house.

    Wolfgang was certainly no expert, but the mansion must have been
at least three hundred years old. It was constructed of stone and
wood, with thick ivy growing high along the fa�ade. Inside the
mansion, the floor was marble and the walls and ceilings decorated in
the Baroque style that had become fashionable in Germany during the
18th century. It was all very impressive to a man who had grown up in
post-Stalin East Berlin where style was literally a word without
definition.

    "Wolfgang," a man said, looking up from the oversized desk at
which he was sitting.

    He was old, in his sixties perhaps or even older than that, with
thinning white hair and a pinched face. Not a big man, but not small
either, merely comfortable with the weight of his years. His eyes were
clear and coldly gray behind his reading glasses, which the man
promptly removed. He didn't smile, but there was an affection to his
countenance that offered the suggestion of pleasure.

    "Thank you," he waved a liver spotted hand at the man who'd
escorted Wolfgang into what appeared to be a study. "Close the door
please..." He looked at Wolfgang. "Would you like a drink? Brandy
perhaps?"

    "Yes. Thank you," Wolfgang said, standing awkwardly near the
center of the room.

    It was a comfortable place with dark wood paneling and thick
Persian carpets on the floor, their intricate designs at odds with the
bas relief tiles and fixtures that decorated the walls and ceiling. A
fireplace burned warm and freshly fed with several thick logs. Near it
were several chairs, obviously old and very plush with satin cushions.
One long wall was entirely consumed by books, hundreds of them. On
another wall were several paintings, all of them beautiful, but the
only one immediately recognizable to Wolfgang was a Picasso that he'd
seen once before.

    "The Acrobat's Family. The one in Goteborg is a reproduction," the
man said, "while this one is...on loan. Do you like art, Wolfgang?"

    "Some of it. This is a nice room," Wolfgang replied, walking
towards the old man and the large cabinet he'd opened to reveal a bar
inside it.

    "Hmmm..." He made a noncommittal sound and smiled at Wolfgang. "It's
a little overdone for me, but it's the warmest room in the whole damn
house."

    "Ah." Wolfgang smiled at that and accepted a glass of brandy.

    "Do you know who I am? Let's sit by the fire," the man said. "I
was hoping Eva would be here as well."

    "Herr Mozart, I presume," Wolfgang said.

    "I used to work with your father," the man said, once they were
both seated at angles to each other and the fireplace. "Or I should
say, he worked for me once and for many years."

    "You're Stasi?" Wolfgang asked and then frowned at himself. "If
you'll forgive my bluntness."

    "Understandable." Mozart shrugged. "I was the section chief for
Department 13 in the old days. Counter-intelligence."

    "Alright," Wolfgang said. "You're telling me that's where my
father worked as well?"

    "Just so," the man agreed. "It was good work. Your father
especially had a talent for it. He was very skilled."

    "My father is in prison for treason."

    "And you wonder why I am not, eh?" Mozart nodded. "That's why I
have to play these silly games. I tried to get your father out, to
come work with me again. But after the Wall came down, he wanted
something else. Like Germany, he wanted to be reunified. He wanted to
be...reconciled and forget the past."

    "What work is it that you do, Herr Mozart?"

    "What I've always done, Wolfgang. I protect Germany," he replied,
fixing his eyes on the fire and speaking slowly. "That's what they
don't understand. Men like me, like your father, we didn't betray our
country. We were patriots."

    "By collaborating with the communists?" Wolfgang shook his head.
"How many innocent people died because of men like you? Men like my
father, Herr Mozart?"

    "There is blood," he said softly and turned his face to Wolfgang.
"Germany has always bled. For the Kaiser. For Versailles. For Hitler
and then for Stalin and the Americans and all the rest. We have bled
for a thousand unjust reasons, Wolfgang. Yes. And there is blood on
these hands, you are right. But how much more would there be if every
man in East Germany had resisted? We were occupied by the enemy,
abandoned by the West, and our survival depended on cooperation."

    "I don't believe that," Wolfgang said.

    "Many don't," Mozart snorted. "But neither can they offer an
alternative. East Germany was not Afghanistan. We served Germany first
and Russia only so far as it would gain their trust. We chose our
battles carefully and made difficult sacrifices for the good our
people. It wasn't easy. It was never pleasant."

    "So all of this is merely a misunderstanding," Wolfgang said, his
voice filled with sarcasm. "You and my father and all the others are
heroes. Is that it?"

    "Not all of us, Wolfgang," Mozart said patiently. "I'm no hero,
but perhaps your father is, and there were also traitors. Those who
did betray Germany, who grew fat off her blood like leeches. The
politicians, others in the government and in the communist party. They
deserve what they get and I've provided a great deal of information on
their activities to our government over the years."

    "How's that?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes.

    "I was the head of counter-intelligence," Mozart shrugged. "My
files were...extensive."

    "Did you give them my father?"

    "No! No, I did not," the old man said sharply. "When I heard of
his troubles, I tried very hard to bring him out. I wanted him to
leave Germany, but he refused."

    "Why?"

    "Because of you, Wolfgang," Mozart said, sounding as if it were
obvious. "Because of your mother. He wanted you to grow up in Germany.
It's the only thing that matters to man like him. He's very proud of
you and now I understand why."

    "I don't understand," Wolfgang said, taking a swallow of brandy.

    "You're a good man. A good German. What you've done takes balls!"
Mozart growled loudly, holding his hand in a fist before relaxing with
a smile and lowering his voice. "More than those fools in the Interior
Ministry have, certainly. I admire you very much."

    "What I've done?" Wolfgang frowned. "I was dismissed from the
Bundespolizei in disgrace..."

    "No. I'm talking about Friedrich Dubert," Mozart said with a
satisfied smile as he watched the reaction on Wolfgang's face. "You
did what needed to be done and you were efficient. You were cautious.
That's good. Anger is useful, but only when harnessed."

    "I don't know what you mean."

    "And the Russian?" Mozart chuckled. "You know exactly what I mean
and that's why you're here. I need a man like you. Germany, Wolfgang,
needs a man like you."

    "How do you know about what I've done?" Wolfgang asked softly,
feeling the adrenaline his sudden apprehension was feeding him.

    "I've had you under surveillance since you're dismissal from
GSG-9," Mozart told him. "A prudent move, I suppose, but a mistake on
their part nonetheless."

    "Why would you do that?" Wolfgang wondered, trying to grasp what
the man had just told him.

    "There are several reasons. For one, I promised your father I
would keep an eye on you. For another, I had plans to recruit you,
sooner or later. And finally..." the old man shrugged, "...I wanted to see
what you would do under the circumstances. Adversity is always a good
test of character."

    "You've been following me for a year?" Wolfgang gave the man a wry
smile. "Why call me in now? Why wait so long?"

    "The diamond merchant," Mozart sighed. "That was rather...
unbecoming, shall we say? You're not a common criminal, Wolfgang, and
I'll protect you. Your secrets are safe, but I won't see you going
down that way. I won't let you betray your father's sacrifice, do you
see?"

    Wolfgang said nothing for several moments and finally the old man
stood up stiffly, reaching for a poker to prod the fire.

    "I can offer you work. You and your...wife? Sister?" Mozart smiled.
"Let's just call her Eva. It will not always be easy and it will not
always be clean. But I will promise you that it will always be for
Germany."

    "Who are you?" Wolfgang asked as the man replaced the poker and
turned around.

    "Call Eva and ask her to join us," Mozart told him. "Kurt has a
car waiting in Frankfurt. You'll be my guests and I'll make it clear
to both of you."

    "Why should we trust you?" Wolfgang asked, feeling overwhelmed and
cornered.

    "You shouldn't," Mozart said with a weary smile. "But that too is
the business we are in, is it not? The phone is on the desk. If you'll
excuse me I must retire for a few hours. I'm not so young as I used to
be."

    "Of course," Wolfgang said automatically, rising from his chair.
"How do you know I won't call the police?" he asked. "I could call
GSG-9 and have the phone traced. They could be here in an hour to get
you."

    "They could," Mozart agreed, clearing his throat. "If they wanted
me."

    "You're not hiding here?" Wolfgang narrowed his eyes. "I thought
you said..."

    "I work for the Chancellor, Wolfgang. I serve Germany, just as I
always have. That's what I've been telling you." The old man clapped
his guest on the shoulder. "It's good you're here. I'll see you at
dinner."




End of Cinderella2 05
TS.Severe@yahoo.com

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