Taken by Berlin. Nicolas Scheerbarth

Taken by Berlin - Nicolas Scheerbarth


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"The other women from the headquarters"... he still didn't know how Nazis, the church, and this women's headquarters were connected. In his mind, he bought the second abduction from the women, even though he continued to play the disbeliever.

      "Guest"? he went after it reproachfully. "Are you saying I can say goodbye now, leave the room through this door and go home unharmed?"

      "Joschi Silajev, don't play with us. We know that one doesn't survive for decades in the sacred halls of Strasbourg being so nice and naive. We have no unpleasant plans for you, but we will keep you. For a certain time at least."

      "So. Keep me! Have you ever thought about what it means to hold a man of my rank? Even if I assume that you actually have nothing to do with the Nazis... that, for whatever reason, you have liberated me, so to speak... I'm sure the Union police won't see it that way. I guess at least 12 hours have passed since the highway massacre. And even if there were less..."

      "Save your breath. We know how your cops work. But they don't know anything."

      "Pardon me?"

      "In plain language, they're looking for you like crazy... in the middle of an ant war of three wildly running around heaps: the Union-Nazis, the Woodspeople, and the free Nazis. Do you understand? All are firmly convinced that the others have you. None of them has us on its list. And your super-smart cops are right in the middle of the gang war they're waging over your pretty ass. And not just here in the Union territory. You could be anywhere. In the Dead Land, in the Caucasus, in Macedonia... your choice."

      "Sneaky, admitted. But at the latest as soon as you make your demands, whoever you actually are, our analysts will know..."

      "Oh, you motherless child! You just don't get it!"

      Susie was smirking, the others were grinning. He was satisfied with himself. It was immediately clear to him that such an unusual liberation must have other reasons than ordinary blackmail. His method seemed to work. Until Tom interfered.

      "Stop it now!" said the woman who looked like a man. "He doesn't have to understand it either! Or he really understands it pretty well. Joschi Silajev, you know enough for now. You'll stay with us and join me on a little trip shortly. There are a few people who want to talk to you... no, no, not questioning or torturing, just talking. On the contrary, you may listen more than you talk. That's all they want from you. And the trouble with your cops or the Nazis... whatever the difference is... leave it to us!"

      Tom turned around and went to the door. She knocked on it three times, then it got unlocked from the outside. Tom went out, and the other women followed her, Kandy last. She stopped under the door and turned to him.

      "Get some sleep now if you can," she said. "And if you need anything, just knock on the door like she did."

      "One moment. Please!" he shouted.

      She stopped and looked at him. At that moment a fifth woman appeared next to her... smooth, short, rust-red hair, a soft girl's face, in impressive contrast to her large, strong body. She was dressed like the others, her skin pale, the small, firm breasts sprinkled with freckles. The bulky handle of a heavy, modern firearm protruded from a halter on her belt. Even she didn't seem to have the slightest hesitation in showing him her face. Were all these women suicidal? Or... he got hot at the thought... did she have reason to feel safe from persecution? Who could dare to kidnap a European Councilor if not out of pure stupidity like the Nazis? The only really powerful people in this world were the Triads...

      "What is it?"

      "Just one question. Where is this trip going?"

      "Don't be so curious, Mr. Councilor," Kandy replied.

      "You expect me to listen to you. Later. Well, if you put so much importance on it... I'm already listening."

      "All right, then. But" – dead serious, yet with a hint of a grin – "don't tell anyone! To Berlin."

      ***

      Berlin.

      "Come on, relax, man. We've made it."

      Tom lowers her side window. A slightly cooler breeze blows into the stuffy cab of the small van... an 87 VW with biofuel drive, which on the long journey through two warm and humid nights has evaporated the sweat of fear of his history... supplemented by Joschi's own... and probably that of Tom. The drive through the foothills of the Dead Land isn't a walk in the park for anyone. Joschi sticks his head out. Since they are in the Zone, he wears only a light chain at his ankles.

      "How much longer?"

      "Pardon me?"

      "How much longer do we have to go?"

      "Now, before midnight, we can get through. Twenty minutes."

      "Why 'now'?"

      "You're asking some questions! Because in an hour or two, there'll be a lot of traffic. Nothing compared to before, but Berlin is still a big city. There can be traffic jams in the center. Life just happens at night... because of the heat."

      Near the Havel the air is even more pleasant. Joschi breathes deeply, his head stretched far out of the window. The traffic is getting denser... small, lightweight one-, two- and four-seater, open racks with hydrogen drive, seats and luggage basket, enough for city traffic. On the right, a fire flickers under trees... picturesque figures, naked or with ragged clothing, move around.

      "What's that?"

      He's pointing outside.

      "The fire? Oh, it's just an old ritual. Where are we... Pichelswerder... Punks, Trekkies, Neonics, just people who like to sit and drink under trees by a fire."

      "Homeless?"

      Tom inflates his cheeks, lays her hand on his thigh.

      "Joschi Silajev! Do us both a favor and forget your Strasbourg memory disk thinking when it comes to Berlin and Berliners. Here, everyone just does what she wants. As long as they're not being an asshole. They just enjoy sitting by the fire together. Do you seriously believe that a city for five million, where about 200,000 still live, would have a housing problem?"

      "No. But we don't know anything about this zone. A few sporadic intelligence reports, Strasbourg latrine rumors about an area in the Dead Land I thought was as dead as the rest. How am I supposed to know what kind of people there are here?"

      "Exactly. You're aware of the fact that you have no idea. But then you see orange light and you think this place burning. I understand only too well... considering the mentality of your people, maybe it would burn. Or you see people around a fire and think it's scum." Tom talks faster and louder. "But I'm upset... that won't do you any good. Just shut up and watch! That's all anyone expects from you here."

      A thousand fumes, noises, images are blowing through the hot night... a group sits idle on old chairs in a circle on the side of the road. Traffic's stalling, Tom has to stop too. The car in front of them has stopped right next to the group, the people in it are talking to those in the circle, drinks are passed back and forth. Joschi remains silent... observes the informal and yet so strange hustle and bustle. There is light everywhere... behind the windows... even side streets are continuously illuminated... from a few tables food is sold on Kaiserdamm, behind it, the semi-truck of an agricultural cooperative from the fringes of the city... people are walking, eating, talking in the middle of the road. Carefully Tom steers the transporter over the busy streets... past people in colorful rags, nets, nothing... some wear only some jewelry, fastened at all imaginable places of the body... or a belt with a few pockets on it.

      They progress at walking pace. People run constantly without any hesitation directly in front of the van. Tom curses quietly to herself: "What a bummer! I've seen the sign and ignored it. The third ring. We could have turned. But since I like to drive through Mitte... especially when I've been gone for months before... I absolutely had to get through here. Gee! Silajev, can you imagine what a feeling that is... after almost a year... as a man among Nazis... to come back here? Into a free atmosphere. To people with whom you do not have to pretend?"

      "You lived as a man among Nazis?"

      "Yes."


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