In The Name of The Father (35 page)

There was a figure kneeling beside it.

In his sudden nervousness his fingers fumbled at the top of his coat and it took him several seconds to pull out the small binoculars. As he tried to focus them his hands shook and he had to take a deep breath and steady himself. The image cleared. Yes the figure was beside the right grave. The one next to the tall black marble obelisk; and it had all the appearance of being female. He dropped the binoculars and they swung at his chest as he reached into his deep coat pocket and brought out the small two-way radio. He quickly put the earplug into his right ear and pressed the transmit button.

‘Eight-ten to headquarters. Eight-ten to headquarters.’

Four seconds passed, then he heard the tinny voice.

‘Headquarters. Go ahead eight-ten.’

‘There’s a woman at the Krol grave.’

‘Are you sure it’s a woman?’

‘Almost. She’s wrapped up in furs.’

‘Young or old?’

‘I cannot tell from here.’

‘Stand by.’

Fifteen seconds passed, then he recognised the excited voice of Colonel Koczy.

‘Corporal, is the man there?’

Winid swept his gaze around the cemetery and took another deep breath. He knew the importance of this moment. Knew its importance to him and his career. In a confident voice he answered, ‘I can see no one else in the immediate vicinity. There is an old couple about two hundred metres away walking towards the entrance.’

A few seconds’ pause and then Colonel Koczy said, ‘All right, keep watch. I’m on my way with a squad.’

Quickly Winid said, ‘Colonel, it is five to six. She will know that the cemetery closes at six. She is likely to move at any moment.’

The Colonel made a quick decision and came straight back.

‘Right, Corporal. Get close. If she starts to move, arrest her. I doubt she is armed or dangerous but if the man is nearby he will be armed and is certainly dangerous. I’ll be there in less than ten minutes. She is to be taken alive. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, sir . . . Out.’

Winid put the radio back into his pocket and moved out from the trees. Walking quickly but quietly he approached the grave at an angle, keeping a large monument between it and himself.

Ania finished her prayer and stood up, wiping a glove across her eyes. Then she pulled back a sleeve and looked at her watch. It was almost six o’clock. She would have to hurry. With a last glance at the headstone she crossed herself again and turned.

From behind a marble monument ten metres away a man stepped out across her path. He was wearing a black fiat cap and brown leather coat. His face was thin and young. She knew immediately that he represented a danger. She had been warm under the coat. Suddenly her body was cold.

He said, ‘What are you doing here?’

She shrugged and gestured. ‘Visiting the grave of relatives. Who are you?’

He was approaching her slowly, warily. ‘What relatives?’

‘An uncle and aunt.’ She raised her voice. ‘Who are you to ask me questions?’

He was close now. ‘Show me your identification.’

She realised what was happening. Realised that this man was SB and had been watching the grave. He was very close now. She sighed deeply and put a hand in her pocket saying, ‘Oh well I . . .’

She darted off to her left, vaulting over a low headstone, then dodging to her right to the path.

Two things were against her. First the warm fur boots which were heavy and clumsy. Second, the fact that at school Bogodar Winid had been the one and two hundred metres sprint champion.

He caught her fifty metres down the path in a flying tackle which crushed the breath out of her and sent her fur hat spinning away. The next moment he was sitting on her back, twisting her arms behind her and fumbling handcuffs onto her wrists.

The old couple were at the gate. They turned and watched for a moment and then, as is usual in such situations in Poland, hurried away from the scene.

Marian also watched. She had been approaching the gate from another angled path. She saw the whole thing. At first she thought he might be a robber or even a rapist. She started to run diagonally across towards them. Then she saw the handcuffs and pulled up abruptly. She saw him reach forward and pull off Ania’s mousy wig; saw the jet black hair beneath it and his grin of triumph. He was reaching for his radio as she pulled up the hood of her coat and headed for the gate. She did not run but walked very quickly. As she reached the car she heard the distant cacophony of the sirens.

Chapter 21

‘Have a Pilsner and stop worrying.’

Jerzy offered a bottle and a glass. Mirek took the bottle but waved away the glass. As he moodily took a sip Antoni said, ‘They’ll be back in a few minutes. No one is looking for her. But I wouldn’t be happy for you to be wandering around outside . . . even with that disguise.’

They were sitting in the house’s ornate lounge. The General had obviously come down from a long line of distinguished soldiers. Large and hideously rendered oil paintings of bewhiskered, bemedalled old men hung on the walls. Again a log fire crackled in a huge fireplace.

A door opened and Natalia came in. She bowed theatrically from the waist and announced, ‘Papa has already relented; in record time. I can use his carriage to go to Warsaw on my solemn promise that we don’t leave it reeking of what he calls “hasheesh smoke”. I promised.’

Jerzy grinned. ‘Well done, Natalia. We shall keep your promise. At the very most we’ll sniff a little coke . . . When can we go?’

She walked over, took the beer bottle from Antoni’s hand, put it to her lips and drained it, then said, ‘I let Papa think he was making the decision. He suggested the eleven thirty express tomorrow. He’s giving the instructions now. We must be at the siding by ten thirty.’ Mirek felt the relief. Try as he would he could never really take this crazy bunch seriously. But here was Natalia calmly informing him that they would be travelling to Warsaw in a private carriage and also supplying the timetable. He was about to thank her when there came the noise of a commotion outside. He heard Irena’s voice and then Marian’s at high pitch. The door burst open and they rushed in. One look at Marian’s face and Mirek knew the worst. It was wet with tears and her eyes radiated fear. The others started talking to her agitatedly. She was choking on her words. Mirek shouted, ‘Quiet! All of you!’

They were quiet. He said to Marian, ‘Tell us . . . take your time.’

She gulped a few times, then steadied herself and, in a few brief sentences, told the story. At first there was a horrified silence. As the implications sank in, panic took over.

Natalia was sobbing with her face in her hands. Irena was clutching Antoni’s shoulders and shouting something incoherent. Jerzy was looking at the floor muttering obscenities.

Mirek was feeling ill. Literally fighting down nausea while his brain refused to come to terms with events.

It was Jerzy who finally stopped the panic by hurling his beer bottle into the fireplace. It smashed with a crack like a rifle shot.

Into the silence he said quietly, ‘We must face up to the consequences and take action.’ He turned to Mirek. ‘We are terribly sorry about Ania . . . But we must think of ourselves now. Obviously the SB have her. They will make her talk . . . or the KGB will . . . Our families will be ruined . . . Well, we accepted that risk. As for ourselves we shall have to go underground immediately and then try to escape the country. Mirek, you will stay with us until we can contact your people and pass you on.’

Mirek still felt like vomiting but now his brain was functioning. He held up a hand.

‘Wait, Jerzy. Let me think for a minute.’

It came to him almost immediately. It came like the pattern of a carpet being unrolled at his feet. He mentally examined all parts and corners of the pattern. Finally he examined his own motives. Then he looked at the frightened faces in front of him and said, ‘Jerzy is of course right. They will make her talk. You will all be implicated and your families ruined . . . unless we can rescue her.’

Astonishment replaced the fear on their faces. Jerzy was the first to react. He said contemptuously, ‘You’re crazy. Rescue her from the SB? Within an hour they’ll be flying her to Warsaw or even Moscow. How do you get at her?’

Mirek said soberly, ‘I have a plan. It involves even more risk to you but it has a chance and if it works both you and your families will be safe and can continue as before.’

Antoni said, ‘You are totally mad.’

Mirek drew breath. He knew that to win them over he would have to be brilliantly persuasive. He said, ‘You must give me five minutes. Then I will tell you.’

Jerzy answered bitterly, ‘Minutes are vital. You know that!’

Quietly Mirek answered, ‘Yes they are. And so are those five minutes I need.’ He looked Jerzy directly in the eye, knowing that his decision would sway the others. He saw the bearded young man lick his lips nervously and then reluctantly nod.

Mirek said, ‘Now this is important. Do you have contacts who can lay their hands quickly on two stolen cars?’

Again Jerzy nodded. Mirek said, ‘Within an hour?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good. Do that now. They should be left in a quiet area not far from here. I’m going to my room and will be down in five minutes. In the meantime try to find a street map of the city.’

* * *

The sudden action eased the collective fear. As Mirek left the room Jerzy went to the phone and started dialling. Marian remembered that there was a street map in the Mercedes and went to fetch it. Irena and Natalia, for something to calm their nerves, went to the kitchen to make coffee. Antoni lit a cigarette.

Six minutes later they were standing in a group in front of the fire when the door abruptly opened and Mirek strode in. Instinctively Irena screamed. Marian’s coffee cup rattled in its saucer. Antoni moaned in his throat.

As usual, Jerzy was the first to recover, but his voice was strangled as he asked, ‘Where the fucking hell did you get that?!’

Mirek was wearing the uniform of a full Colonel of the SB, complete with holstered Makarov, black polished boots, an impressive row of medals and the distinctive peaked cap. He said briskly, ‘Someone had the foresight to send it with me. Together with excellent forged papers. Now are you ready to hear my plan?’

They all murmured assent. He had known that the sudden effect of his appearance in that uniform would give his crazy plan a thread of reality. He moved forward, asking, ‘Did you have any luck with the cars and the map?’

‘Yes.’ Jerzy pointed to the map spread out on a table and they all clustered around.

Mirek said, ‘I suggest that I detail the plan without interruption. Then you put your points of view. Then we make a decision.’ He looked at all their faces. They nodded in agreement. He took a breath.

‘All right. There are three things you must understand and keep in mind. First, I was for many years, until recently, a very competent and fast-rising officer in the SB. I am not boasting when I say that had I still been in the force I would soon be wearing this uniform by right. Those years have given me a deep understanding of the workings of the SB and the minds of its senior officers. That brings me to the second point. That knowledge and my membership of the SB already allowed me once to kill two of their most senior officers - and to escape.’ Again he looked into all their eyes in turn and saw that he had made his point. They all knew of the famous episode.

He went on. ‘Thirdly, since then I have been very highly trained by experts as a terrorist and assassin; training exactly suited for this type of thing. Please keep that in mind . . . I am not an ordinary person.’ Again he paused and again felt the response. To Jerzy he said, ‘You were right that normally they would quickly fly her to Warsaw. That is the only place where the SB carries out what they call “hard interrogation”. But this situation is not normal. They know that time is vital if they are to catch me. It would be several hours before they got her to SB headquarters in Warsaw; but even now she will be at SB headquarters in this city. Instead they will fly the specialists down from Warsaw.’ He sighed and stopped for a moment. They knew what was going through his mind, but when he started again his voice was as hard as ever.

They will instruct the local commander immediately to use any methods to extract information from her. I know where they will do it . . . I think I know who will do it. They will be starting within half an hour. Now,’ he pointed at the map, ‘one of you will take one of the cars and wait somewhere here. We will fix an exact place. Another of you will drive me to within a few hundred metres of SB headquarters and then wait at this spot quite near to the entrance with the engine running. I shall bluff my way into the headquarters claiming to be from Warsaw down here on a confidential assignment. I will say that I am an expert on “hard interrogation” and was ordered to drop everything and rush there to help them. I bluff my way to the cellars, rescue Ania and then either bluff or shoot my way out. As soon as we appear on the steps the one driving the getaway car accelerates up. We jump in and head for the second car, then to a safe house. That’s it.’

The first question surprised Mirek because it presupposed that the plan would go ahead. It came from Jerzy.

‘What if she’s talked before you get there.’

He answered emphatically. ‘She won’t have. I know that woman. She will break eventually, everyone does, but it will take them days, even weeks.’

He looked at Marian. She was nodding in agreement.

Amazingly there were no other immediate questions. The others kept looking at Mirek and then at the map. They had never even contemplated such a thing before.

Mirek said, ‘You must balance it out. The risks involved against what happens if she talks. In fact the risks won’t be increased if I don’t come out of that building. You just drive away and disappear underground. If I come out I’ll have Ania with me. Then the drivers of the two cars risk their lives in the getaway.’

There was a silence while they contemplated his words. Marian broke it. ‘What will you do if we don’t agree?’