State Of The Union

“Unless he was lying down on the floor,” said Herman as he rejoined Harvath, “he wasn’t on that train.”

“I know,” replied Scot as he adjusted the Specter.

“So where is he?”

Harvath handed Herman the scope and said, “About fifty meters down along the wall on the right hand side. Take a look for yourself.”

After watching Überhof pick his way down the tunnel for several moments, Herman asked, “What the hell is that asshole up to?”

“I don’t know,” answered Harvath, pulling out his H amp;K and screwing on the silencer, “but I think we ought to go find out.”

Chapter 25

They followed Überhof for over fifteen minutes until he came to a short metal service door and disappeared through it. When they passed through the door, they found that it led to a long, low ceilinged tunnel. Several minutes later, it opened up and they were amazed by what they saw.

“What is this place?” asked Harvath as he shined his SureFire flashlight around the abandoned, cobweb-covered U-Bahn station.

“Geisterbahnhöfe,” replied Herman. “Ghost station. I didn’t think any of these existed anymore.”

“What the hell is aghost station?” demanded Harvath as he painfully pulled himself up onto the filthy platform.

With its dreary green tiles, old-fashioned signs and the Communist era propaganda posters hanging above the benches, the station looked like it had been frozen in time-a true relic of the Cold War. Harvath could see an old newspaper kiosk that must have once sold cigarettes and magazines, but which had been retrofitted into a machine gun nest, as well as Communist era propaganda posters hanging above the benches.

“When the Soviets built the wall, they split off the subway system in East Berlin into its own network. Because of a quirk in geography, two of the West Berlin lines needed to pass briefly through East Berlin before circling back around to the West. It was very strange. You could ride through East Berlin and see stations like this completely abandoned except for the stern-faced soldiers standing on the platforms with machineguns.”

“And those abandoned stations were what you calledGeisterbahnhöfe?”

“Yes, but after the reunification, all of the stations were supposedly reopened.”

“This one must not have gotten the memo,” replied Harvath, as he ran his finger along the dirty tile.

“You know, it’s strange,” said Herman. “I don’t even know what line this is on. I am trying to figure out what might be above us.”

“What about this?” said Harvath as lifted an old metal directional sign from the floor, blew the dust off of it and showed it to Herman. “Russische Botschaft? I knowRussische is German for Russian, but what isBotschaft?”

“Embassy,” replied Herman solemnly. “Russian Embassy. Jesus.”

Harvath studied the serious look on Herman’s face and said, “What is it?”

“Something very bad. The ground beneath Berlin is riddled with bunkers and networks of tunnels,” he answered. “The Gestapo built them under a direct order from the Führer. Not only were they used as fallout shelters, but also as interrogation facilities where some of the most horrific torture you could ever imagine was carried out.

“After the war, many Gestapo agents were absorbed by the Russians and placed into theMinisterium für Statessicherheit -”

“You mean the Stasi?” asked Harvath. “The East German secret police?”

“Yes. The old Gestapo agents trained many of the Stasi. I heard terrible stories when I was with the GSG9 of what went on down in these tunnels and forgotten bunkers. Many people were brought down here never to be seen or heard from again,” said Herman, who then realized the implication of his words and was quiet.

Harvath felt a chill run down his spine as he resigned himself to the only logical reason Überhof could have for keeping Gary Lawlor in this horrific sort of underworld. Pulling back the slide on his H amp;K, he verified that he had a round chambered and then activated the LaserLyte attached to the rail system beneath the barrel.

No words needed to be spoken between the two men. Harvath simply nodded his head and their search of the ghost station began in earnest.

Harvath held his pistol out in front with both hands while he and Herman cleared the station. So far, it was empty. Harvath was about ready to suggest that they go back down to the platform and search farther up the unknown line, when he saw something out of place across the lobby.

It was a vintage Soviet era cigarette machine, complete with a picture of Comrade Lenin puffing away on his favorite brand. Harvath walked over and began examining it from all angles.

“What are you doing?” said Herman as he joined him, careful to keep his voice down. “I thought you didn’t smoke.”

“I don’t, but doesn’t it seem odd to you that there was a kiosk on the platform that would have sold cigarettes and there’s also a cigarette machine here?”

“No, not really. Germans back then liked to smoke. In fact, we still like to.”