Free Berlin Encounter by T. Davis Bunn

since the war’s over?”
    “I’m not sure,” Sally said, and dropped her eyes.
    When the major did not respond, she raised her head to find him watching her. All humor was gone from his voice and gaze as he said, “You know something.”
    “I’m not sure,” Sally repeated quietly, and studied the man beside her through the takeoff. His was a comfortable, lived-in sort of face, full of strength and integrity, lined with furrows that gathered comfortably into well-practiced lines when he smiled. “Tell me about your wife, Major.”
    “Call me Theo. I break out in hives when a pretty woman uses my title, especially when I’m this close to being a civilian again.”
    “Theo, then.” Sally found herself liking the man. He had the look of someone who had come to grips with the good and the bad within himself, who was content with both his station and his direction. “Tell me about her.”
    “Oh, she’s a gem.” He leaned his head back on the seat. “Three kids, youngest only two when I was called up. Didn’t bat an eye—well, no, that’s an exaggeration. But she’s done well by us, kept me alive in their minds, a tough thing to do when Daddy’s gone for two long years. Only visited them once, and when I was back, gosh, I wish you could have seen how she treated me. Not like I was some visitor. No, like the time I was gone didn’t matter now that I was back.”
    “Sounds like a wonderful person,” Sally murmured, liking the way his face lit up as he spoke of her.
    “Yeah, too good for me, that’s for sure.” His smile was directed toward someone only he could see. “She must’ve found it tough, taking up the reins while I was gone and then passing them back, but you’d never know by listening to her.”
    “What does she do?”
    “Teaches high school math. Got a great mind, handles those kids like they’re genuine people and not freaks that ought to be locked up until they hit eighteen.” He switched his grin over her way. “Sorry to run off at the mouth like that, ma’am. But you got me onto my favorite subject.”
    “Call me Sally, please.”
    “Okay, Sally, so what brings you to Berlin?”
    Sally liked him and trusted him. It was a decision at heart level, but she genuinely felt that their meeting was a gift. And she needed a friend. Desperately. She sent a prayer winging upward, then let her worry show through. “I have a problem, Theo. A big one.”
    “Those are the only ones worth talking about.”
    “And secret,” Sally added. “So secret I could get us both shot just talking about it. Really.”
    He searched her face, asked, “Your husband?”
    She nodded slowly. “He’s in trouble.”
    “With the brass?”
    “No, that’s my department. Jake is, well . . .” She shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”
    “Try the beginning. Always like to set my buildings and my stories on a solid foundation.” He glanced at his watch. “Besides, what else have we got to do with the next five hours?”

Chapter Nine
    The March of Brandenburg, as the region surrounding Berlin was known, contained more lakes than all the rest of eastern Germany combined. They were mostly small, set in shallow valleys between rolling hills, bordered by scrub and pine, and lined by some of the worst roads Jake had ever traveled. Many of these country lanes had been constructed of sandy shale to begin with, then blown to oblivion by off-target bombs. The larger roads were segmented muddy bogs, the multitude of bomb holes filled by recent rains. Their remaining surfaces were often ground to gravel by the invading Russian tanks and heavy weaponry. In the worst stretches, recent traffic had bypassed the roads entirely, creating parallel tracks over dunes and bushes that Jake negotiated at a crawl.
    Dr. Hans Hechter sat beside him, sullen and silent, his well-trimmed blond head hidden beneath an ancient sweat-stained homburg. Dr. Rolf Grunner had been relegated to the back. The lid to the