Free Freedom Bridge: A Cold War Thriller by Erika Holzer Page A

Airline tickets and hotel statements—
    And a transcript of Dr. Kurt Brenner’s remarks at the home of Medicine International’s Director, Russell Manning, during a May Day party in Manhattan a few days earlier.
    Kiril found what he was looking for all too quickly.
    “I must confess that I’m offended by my government’s behavior. Spying in this day and age? Despicable!”
    Then: “It has taken years for people of good faith from our two countries to establish a bridge of friendship. I only hope that bridge is strong enough to withstand such ill-advised and provocative conduct.”
    Kiril made himself read it again. He read it twice more, as if the repetition forced him to believe what he was reading.
    How could Dr. Kurt Brenner disparage America—a country that, more than any other, was the very personification of freedom?
    He shook off a sense of sacrilege so pungent it filled his mouth with bile. A prominent American heart surgeon, a man whose profession was saving lives, being deferential to the ambassador of a slave state!
    Kiril was slipping the papers back into the file when he noticed a thick batch stapled together—roughly twenty pages of a medical report about the next generation of heart-lung machines. Grateful for the distraction, he dug in and was soon mesmerized by the new technology available in the West. He was roughly halfway through when he came upon a 5-by-7-inch photograph—a mistake, he figured. Why else would a photograph have been stapled into the middle of a report?
    The first thing that registered was the name typed at the bottom of the photograph: DR. KURT BRENNER.
    Then he was staring at the man. Brenner’s hair was white, in stark contrast to the deep tan of his skin. His eyes were dark brown, his cheekbones high. His mouth curved with amusement—and something else, something Kiril couldn’t quite put a name to.  Something he didn’t like. Still, apart from certain dissimilar features and the man’s fashionable attire and self-assured sophistication, the resemblance was startling.
    Kiril was a consummate realist. Brenner was no mirror image . . . and yet did he dare hope?
    The office was cold.  Even so, drops of perspiration appeared on his neck and slipped down to his shoulder blades. Had Aleksei seen the photograph? Doubtful. His brother would have had no interest in such a technical paper. Even if Aleksei had glanced at it accidentally, surely he’d have called it to Kiril’s attention. He slipped the photo into his pocket and tuned in to Aleksei’s voice through the slightly open office door.
    “—no time for your petty problems,” Aleksei was saying, his tone a mix of impatience and anger. “The repairs will have to wait. After all, Glienicker Bridge has been collapsing ever since the war. My orders from General Nemerov are to keep all unauthorized personnel off the bridge until the investigation is complete. Your orders are to set up the necessary dredging equipment before I get there . . . Three weeks ? . . . Godammit! Let me know as soon as you get the equipment back from Lake Constance. It’s important we dredge up Brodsky’s lighter. The General’s been pushing me hard.  Why ? A would-be defector named Stepan Brodsky, who just happened to be a Soviet Air Force Captain, and who just happened to work for me. Who just happened to organize my part of the security for the Four-Power summit and just happened to almost pull off that defection on Glienicker Bridge.  Oh, and Brodsky’s last act on earth just happened to prevent me from obtaining his cigarette lighter. What do you suppose was in that goddamn lighter, Emil—cotton?!”
    Kiril was stunned.
    Stepan’s cigarette lighter was still missing? If they were dredging, he must have pushed it into the Havel River !
    As he waited Aleksei out, Kiril worked calmly, stoically, on planting the germ of an idea that, despite Aleksei’s paranoia, just might prove irresistible.

 
    Chapter 16
    A leksei reentered the room