Before the storm, p.26
Before the Storm, page 26
She’d arrived in East Berlin and been taken immediately to Stasi headquarters, the East German secret police. Since then, her existence consisted of endless hours in this bare cell, without even a bed or blanket, followed by torturous sessions with her accusers. Time would tick by in lonely isolation and then the door would be abruptly ripped open and a guard would drag her back to the interrogation room, where the questions would start all over again. Why had she come to Czechoslovakia? What was the nature of her work with the Americans? What true government agency did she work for? What was the real nature of her mission into Soviet territory?
She gave no answers they wanted to hear. She was a lowly secretary working for the Office of Public Affairs, she told them, over and over. She had violated the Americans’ trust in every possible way to bring Hoffman here. Max and his brother were civilian Jews, motivated by justice. The Russians simply could not believe her. She didn’t know what to do or how long she could last before, in desperation, she would admit to anything they wanted to hear, just to end the misery.
The door opened again. Fear tore through her. A grinning guard moved toward her, grabbing her by the hair. He dragged her to her feet and pulled her out of the cell and down the hallway. Her bare feet were torn and bleeding; she whimpered as she hobbled, trying to keep up with him. She tripped and fell to the ground, her head exploding in pain as her hair was torn out by the roots. The guard grimaced and screamed at her in Russian. He reached down and jerked her by the arm back to her feet. She cried out in pain. The guard slammed her against the wall, continuing to berate her. He dragged her back down the hallway another twenty yards until they reached an open door. He shoved her inside, slamming the door behind her.
Sara recognized the room immediately. It was the same size as her cell, but this space contained a bare wooden table and two chairs facing each other. This was the interrogation room. The only difference now was she was by herself. There’d always been an officer waiting for her before, seated at the table, a set of documents and a notepad set out before him. Always the same man, the same questions in German with his thick Russian accent.
She wondered what was different this time. She looked around in terror, expecting the man to rush out at her from the shadows. But there was nobody here. She stared at the chair. Her cell contained no furniture. She was forced to lie on the cold floor or slump against the wall. She hobbled toward the chair, hands shaking, and pulled it slowly away from the table. Painfully, she lowered herself into the seat. She expected the door to open at any moment, but it didn’t. She had at least a few moments by herself. Taking a few ragged breaths, she leaned forward and put her arms and head on the table. She luxuriated in the chair, in a place to rest her head. In a few moments, she felt herself falling to sleep.
The door opened. She gasped and pulled herself up, preparing in fear for what she knew was coming. She stared in shock and surprise, as if she was looking at a ghost. It wasn’t a guard, nor the officer. She was looking at Max.
Her lover was dressed in the same clothes she’d last seen him in. But he looked completely healthy. Even his knee was much better, and he walked with only the slightest limp. His face was full of concern and he smiled sadly at her. He rushed to her side and drew her out of the chair. She held him tightly, shaking in weakness and relief. His arms enveloped her and he kissed her head and face. “I’m so sorry,” he kept repeating.
She held on to him for long minutes, her exhausted mind trying to grasp how he could be here. Was this real, or was she dreaming? She could hardly tell the difference anymore. But unlike the nightmares that had torn through her mind these past few days, here was strength and warmth. Here was love and security. “How can you be here?” she asked when she found the strength to speak.
“Don’t worry about that right now,” he said, pulling away from her and lowering her back into the seat. She could see the anger growing on his face. He marched to the door and tore it open. He stormed out of the room, returning a minute later. A guard appeared with a tray of hot food and tea. He placed the tray down on the table.
Sara was overwhelmed by the fragrance of warm bread and soup. She tore at the loaf, hands shaking, and stuffed some of it into her mouth. The food tasted better than anything she’d ever had before. She put more into her mouth. She heard herself growling and moaning in pleasure.
“Slow down,” said Max, sitting down on the other side of her. “Take a few bites at a time. You’re starving. If you eat too quickly, you’ll be sick and worse off than before.”
She could see the concern and the anger in Max’s face. She was so confused, but her mind wouldn’t work right now and all she could think of was the food in front of her. She forced herself to slow down, her eating and her mind. She closed her eyes, dipping chunks of bread into the soup and taking tiny bites, chewing a number of times before she swallowed. She felt something on her back and she jerked away, opening her eyes, but it was only Max. He was placing his coat over her shoulders. She closed her eyes again, letting the warmth envelop her, taking in the glory of the food.
After a time she was full. He poured her some tea and then he sat down across from her. His face had a strange expression she’d never seen, something mysterious, and expectant. She sipped away at her tea, trying to fight her exhaustion. She wanted to sleep but she was terrified that she would wake up and this would all be a dream. Besides, Max was here. Somehow, miraculously, and he was saving her, bringing her back to life. When her tea was finished, he asked her if she wanted anything more. She shook her head, pulling the coat more tightly around herself. As crushingly tired as she was, she felt better than she had in as long as she could remember.
Max cleared away the tray and took it to the door. He knocked and a guard poked his head in. Sara recognized the man. He was the one who had dragged her here in the first place. She whimpered, moving the chair back, bracing herself, preparing to face whatever was coming her way. Max looked sharply at her and then at the guard. He turned and waved the man out, before closing the door and coming back to her. “I’m sorry about that,” he said. “You have no idea how sorry. If I’d known any of this was going to happen, I would never—”
“How can this be?” she asked, her face still broadcasting confusion. “How can you be free while they’ve done this to me?”
“I wasn’t free,” he said. “Not until this morning. I came to you straightaway.” His face flashed anger. “They had their questions for me as well, which is unforgivable.”
“What do you mean, Max?” she asked. She knew he was about to tell her his secret. “You say they held you as well, and yet you are untouched. You look healthy. You still have your regular clothes. Why did they leave you alone and yet do this to me?”
He reached across and took her hands. She started to pull away but his hands held her. They were so warm and she’d been cold for so many days now. She looked into his eyes. That look was there again on his features. A look of trepidation. “Why?” she asked again.
“This won’t be easy for you to hear, but I need you to listen to everything.”
“What’s going on?” she asked.
“Sara. My dearest. I’m not who you think I am.”
Her face flashed with fear, her hands began to shake. She tried to pull away but he wouldn’t let her.
“I work for the East German government,” he said. “For the Stasi. I was sent to West Berlin to try to gain access to Hoffman.”
“But why would you want Hoffman?” she asked.
“Think about it,” he said. “He’s a nuclear scientist. My people, we are behind the Americans. We don’t have our own atom bomb. Until we have one, the world is in imminent danger of a war, is it not?”
She tore her hands away. “Your people,” she said accusingly. “You must mean the Russians.”
He started to say something and then stopped himself. “Fine. The Russians. But they are our allies, we are all one people, with one socialist future together.”
“You’re the enemy!” she hissed. “And you led me to betray my people.”
“Your people?” he asked. “You are a German. Your people were defeated by the Americans. They are your enemy, not me.” He tried to take her hands again but she put them behind her back.
“What about Karl?” she asked, her mind playing through the past few weeks. “Is he even your brother?”
“Yes. He is my brother, and we are Jews.”
“You lied to me about everything else though,” she said. “You almost cost me my life. You have cost me my future. I’m a criminal now to the Americans. I did all of that for you, for our love. But it was all a lie. You never loved me! You used me and destroyed my life!” She started to cry, the tears streaming down her face.
“You’re wrong!” he said insistently. “So much of what I told you was the truth. We were slave labor under Hoffman. We did lose most of our family to a concentration camp. But our camp was liberated by the Russians, not the Americans. The East German government approached us soon after. They knew we had connections in the West. They knew about Hoffman. They asked us to train for a special mission, to find this scientist who was at large and bring him to the East.”
“You lied about us,” she said.
“No. Well, at first. I will admit, I started our relationship out of duty, but Sara, you must listen to me,” he said. “Somewhere along the way, I did fall in love with you.”
“That’s another of your lies!” she shouted.
“No, it is not!” he shouted back. “You may think everything was a lie but it wasn’t. When I first met you, I thought it was a miracle. Here was a chance to get through the blockade and into Bavaria. A chance to go after Hoffman. But as time went on, I saw your frailness, your love, your spirit. I did fall in love with you, Sara! It killed me to keep lying to you. But if I had told you, what then? I would have been arrested and I would have never seen you again. This way—”
“This way you’ve completed your mission and ruined my life in the process.”
“No, Sara. This way we can be together forever.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, wiping the tears with the back of his coat sleeve. Her face showed her pain, her confusion, but she wanted to listen to him, even if their time was coming to an end forever.
“You’re right that I completed my mission. Hoffman will help us immensely. I’ve been given a promotion, new duties.” His face darkened. “Although they had enough questions for me before they told me the end result.”
“Why would they have questioned you?” she asked.
“Because of you, my love,” he said. “Right away I told them that I was in love with you, that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. They thought you’d cast some sort of spell on me. They knew you worked for an American organization. They’ve spent the past week drilling me about that, from every angle they could contrive, trying to get me to admit that there is something more nefarious going on here. Today they admitted they were satisfied with my answers, and with yours. I had thought you were getting the same treatment as me. Just daily questioning. If I had known what was going on . . .” His fingers twisted, then balled into two fists. “Don’t you worry, my dear. There will be severe punishments for what has happened to you.”
“But look what you’ve done to me,” she said at last, not able to think of anything else to say. “You’ve ruined my life.”
“How?” he asked. “You were alone, working a secretary job. You barely had enough to eat or coal to warm you. Here you will be treated well. The Americans have lied to you,” he said. “People here are well taken care of. Every job is treated with respect, women and men are equal. You will be respected, promoted. You have invaluable information you can provide the Stasi.”
“What information?” she asked. “You just said it, I was a secretary, at an unimportant department.”
“You don’t understand how much you know, my dear! You worked for the Americans,” he said. “You had access to their technology, their record keeping, their processes. Knowledge of transportation in and out of West Berlin. Trust me,” he said, reaching out for her hand again. “You have much that will be invaluable for us. They will treat you well for it and someday you will be the wife of a senior Stasi official.”
“Wife, then you mean . . .”
“I want you to marry me, Sara,” he said, taking both of her hands in his. “I want us to be married right away. My promotion entitles me to a two-bedroom flat in the best part of the city. We will have plenty of food, plenty of heat. We will start building our life together. A socialist life, where everyone is taken care of. Please tell me you will say yes.”
She stared at him in utter surprise, her mind reeling. Marry him? An East German spy? She sat there for some time, her eyebrows furrowed, her face flushed. “I need some time to think about things,” she said at last.
“Of course,” he said, taking a deep breath. It seemed her response was better than he had feared. “You’ll have as much time as you need. Let me escort you to your quarters.”
She froze, terrified. “I can’t go back there,” she said.
He laughed. “Of course not, my dear. You’ll have a proper bed and as much time as you need.” He took her hand and led her out of the interrogation room and past the guard, who now looked visibly nervous. Good, she thought. You think you’re nervous now . . . He led her down the corridor, past more doors that she was sure led to other cells. They turned the corner and down another series of hallways until they reached a set of bars. Max barked at a guard and the soldier fumbled with his keys, unlocking the door and quickly opening it. Max continued on through another set of hallways and then up a couple of flights of stairs. Sara had to take the stairwell slowly, and he put his arms around her, pulling her up each stair gently.
Finally, they reached a new hall and Max stopped at a doorway to his left, pulling out a key to open it. “My quarters for the past few days,” he said. She stepped inside. The room was bare and quite small, but there was a window and a bed. Next to the bed was a table with a lamp and a few books. Across the way was a chair and a standing rack with a few clothes hung up on it. “Here you are,” said Max. “Get some rest. I’ll check in with you tomorrow morning. Then we can talk some more.”
“But if this is your quarters,” she said, “where will you sleep?”
“I’ll grab another room down the hall,” he said. “These are temporary quarters for visiting officers. Don’t worry,” he told her, taking her hand. “I’ll be very close and I won’t let anything happen to you. Not ever again. For now, get some sleep.” He reached in to kiss her but she turned her head. He started to say something then stopped himself. “I understand. Get some rest, my love.”
He closed the door behind her. She wanted to process everything now but she was exhausted. She pulled the covers aside and collapsed into the bed. She drew the blankets over her and fell almost immediately asleep.
* * *
She woke the next morning feeling greatly refreshed. There was a tray on her table with breakfast and tea. Her clothes were also there, laundered and neatly stacked on the chair. She dressed and then sat at the little table by his bed, eating and drinking her tea. She felt completely awake now and was able to consider her situation. That didn’t necessarily help things. There was so much to consider. Max checked on her after a little while and she told him she needed some more time. She spent the morning turning over all of the points, considering her options and her future. When he returned in the afternoon with a new tray of lunch for two, she was ready to talk to him.
He brought in another chair. They had the room to themselves. He started the conversation.
“Were you able to sleep last night?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You look much improved this morning.”
“I feel much better, thank you.”
He stammered for a few seconds, obviously struggling with his thoughts. “Listen, Sara. I know I threw a lot at you yesterday. I also know I deceived you, and you have every right to tell me to go to hell and to never speak to me again. But the last part of our conversation was completely the truth. I love you, more than anything. I’m ready to start a life with you. I will marry you today. I know we can build a life together here. I also know that you’ve been deceived by the Americans about what it is like here. Certainly, we don’t have all of the flash, the capitalism, the glitzy lights. But we have something better than that. We have equality. Everyone here receives according to their needs. Everyone contributes according to their abilities. This is the way the world was meant to be, not with a few aristocrats or rich people hogging all the resources. In this system, you are judged on the merits, and you are rewarded based on your efforts, and your contribution to the whole.”
“I don’t know about all of that,” she said. “I guess I’ll see. I lived so long under the Nazis, the system you are describing could hardly be worse. But that’s not what I’ve been thinking about this morning. I’ve been thinking about us.”
He shifted in the chair and leaned forward. This was clearly what he wanted to hear. “Tell me,” he said. “Tell me, please. Will you have me?”
“Yes,” she said. “I will marry you, Max. It will take me a little while to trust you, to believe everything you have to tell me, but just like you, I fell in love. You are the man I’ve always wanted. I feel safe with you and protected by you. You only lied to me about the reasons we were doing what we did, but I don’t think you lied to me about your feelings for me. Even your passion for this socialist system. I can tell how much you believe in it. How passionate you are about it. I want your passion in my life, Max, I want you in my life.”
