Free The Shadowboxer by Noel; Behn

into his cuff, withdrew an envelope and handed it to Kuprov.
    â€œOnly four?” the Russian said, reading the page. “You have only four men of mine?”
    â€œThe Army shot the others before I could get to them.”
    â€œAh, Schleebund, such is war. Or should I say such is spying?” Kuprov laughed briefly at his own joke. “And how many Germans do you want in return?”
    â€œTwelve. It will have to be three to one.”
    â€œPretty high, isn’t it?” Kuprov smiled as he passed von Schleiben the Russian list of captured Reich’s agents. “You sound as if Germany were still winning.”
    â€œThe Oberkommando is against any exchange. They finally agreed to a three-to-one ratio.”
    â€œThen three to one they shall have. We must show the Oberkommando what a clever negotiator you are, mustn’t we? Which men on that paper do you want?”
    Von Schleiben read down the columns. “Walters, Dietz, … Wagner, … Mazer. The balance are not important.”
    Kuprov nodded. “Then Walters, Dietz, Wagner and Mazer will be shot, and I’ll give you whoever I damn well please. And tell the Army that since we are capturing ten Germans to every one Russian they take, in the future I’ll shoot ten captured agents for every one of my men executed. After all, Schleebund, to the victor goes a certain privilege in ratio. Your teeth are chattering, Schleebund. Jump up and down, it helps the circulation.”
    â€œI’m not cold.”
    â€œThen perhaps it’s the meeting place I’ve chosen that makes you tremble?” Kuprov looked sadly around him. “I know what pains you took in selecting our last rendezvous point. I was only trying to reciprocate, only trying to make you comfortable, Schleebund. I wanted you to feel at ease, at home, as if you had never left Germany. I have failed.”
    â€œNeither the temperature or location bothers me. I am perfectly well.”
    A hand brushed weakly against von Schleiben’s boot. He jumped back and stared down. The Russian soldier he had been standing on was not quite dead.
    â€œOf course you’re perfectly well, Schleebund,” Kuprov agreed. “Just because you are a midget I keep thinking that you have the endurance of a midget. I forget that you are a giant, a gladiator—a Goliath. Interesting isn’t it, Goliath, how deceiving appearances can be? On looking at you, who would realize what you really are, eh? Well, enough of that. Tell me about this Spangler situation.”
    â€œDidn’t you get my message?”
    â€œOf course I received your message, Schleebund. It cost me a tooth. I also read that endless dossier you sent on. Both failed to say what happened to Vetter after he was taken from Gusen.”
    â€œWe won’t know that until after Spangler is captured.”
    â€œBut I don’t want him captured.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œSchleebund, who is this Spangler working for?”
    â€œWe’re not certain he’s affiliated with anyone. He may be just another of those madmen who appear during wars and cause trouble.”
    â€œNo, Schleebund, no. The cold must be numbing your mind. This Spangler person may have been independent in the past, but now he is connected. What organization or what country, Schleebund, is suddenly interested in both Vetter, a German Communist leader, and Hilka Tolan, the daughter of a disgraced right-wing German politician?”
    â€œI don’t know.”
    â€œBut now we can find out, eh, Schleebund? Let this Spangler bring out the Tolan girl and he will lead you to the answer.”
    â€œThat’s impossible.”
    â€œSchleebund, an odd collection of German exiles has suddenly begun disappearing from various parts of the world. First it was former newspapermen, writers, intellectuals and technicians. Next actors and historians. Now it appears to be the politicians’ turn. Thomas Hutch has just