Dean parked in almost the same spot as she had earlier in the day. She looked at her watch and noted that it was 2350 hours. Picking up the night vision scope she had borrowed, she scanned the bridge and both sides of the river. Next, she focused on the rooftops and the windows of the buildings across from the bridge entrance on the far side. She saw a man pushing a wheelchair onto the bridge. The woman in it had her head resting on the back of the chair, but skewed off to one side, as though she couldn’t hold her head up straight. They were both bundled in winter parkas with hoods, so she couldn’t see their faces. Checking her watch once more, she put the scope back under the seat, zipped up her leather jacket, and exited the car. She was thankful that the wind had died down to nothing, making the night air crisp but comfortable. Slowly making her way to the middle of the bridge, she passed the couple as they came closer to her, still unable to discern their features due to their hoods. Maintaining her pace, she arrived at the mid-point and stopped. Turning toward the water, with her peripheral vision she caught the watery reversal of the couple she’d passed as they came back toward her. As she continued looking out into the darkness, her mind began to consider her options. What do we have here, friend or foe? Readying herself for action, she relaxed and waited for the couple to come within six feet, slowly turning to meet them. What she saw startled her. It was Gunter and a very gaunt, vacant eyed Elsa.
“Deanna,” Gunter called softly.
“Yes,” she said, barely audible, as she stared at the sad visage in front of her. The once vibrant, spontaneous, intelligent pre-teen that had been Elsa was now just an empty shell, staring into the night with listless eyes. The beauty was still beneath the gaunt surface, but the life was ebbing from her soul. “Oh, Gunter, I’m so sorry,” she exhaled as she lifted a gloved hand and caressed the unresponsive face.
“This is what your soldiers did to my beautiful Elsa!” he spat out with a hiss. “I brought her to you so you could see why I want your soldiers out of my country….so they won’t be able to do this to someone else’s sister! And, I’ll do it anyway I can.”
“You know why I’m here?” Dean asked the tall German, unable to take her eyes off his sister.
“Yes, I know. I know a lot about you, Deanna. More than you would want me to.” His eyes saddened as he looked at her. “I know the pain you carry inside you. That’s why I’m here. I trust you, Deanna, but I don’t trust your government. They are cowards¾ hiding behind their military courts, afraid to publicly punish my sister’s rapist!”
“That’s not true, Gunter.” Dean turned to face him. “You say you trust me, then let me find Elsa’s rapist. I promise I will hand him over to your government for punishment, no matter who it is. Just don’t interfere with the symposium.”
“It’s been three months, Deanna. You can’t find him now. Too much time has passed, and he’s probably been redeployed.” Gunter looked down at his sister, tears welling in his eyes. “They will pay for this, I promise you. Those cowards will pay.” The tears freely fell as he raised his head and stared at Dean. “I suggest you leave Heidelberg as soon as you can,” he said in a gruffer voice.
“I can’t do that, Gunter. I have a responsibility here, and I can’t leave until I know it’s over…one way or another.” Dean looked into her old friend’s eyes, pleading with him to reconsider. His eyes seemed to soften as they held hers.
Nodding, he said a bit more softly, “The symposium starts in 40 hours. You have 36 hours to find her rapist.” Then he bundled Elsa’s parka tighter and pushed the wheelchair back toward the city.
Dean watched them leave for a few heartbeats before heading back to her car at a dead run.
* * * * *
The vehicle slid to a stop in front of a low non-descript building. A solitary light was on over the doorway. Dean had the door open before the vehicle came to a stop, and was running up the desolate walkway as soon as her foot hit the pavement. Yanking open the door, she quickly entered, continuing to run until she came to the last office on the right. A dim light shone through the opaque glass in the door, verifying that someone was still on duty. Entering the office, she noted a sleepy corporal at the duty desk. As he roused himself to attention, Dean shouted, “Corporal! Get Captain Kern here on the double!”
“Yes, Ma’am!” The corporal rushed to get out of his chair, grabbing his BDU jacket as he ran toward the door.
“Wait! Did Captain Kern leave any files for me tonight?”
Skidding to a halt, the young soldier returned to his desk and sifted through the in-box, removing a stack of files. He handed them to the colonel waiting to see if there was anything else this officer wanted. “Um, Ma’am? Do you need anything else before I go?” the corporal added a bit hesitantly.
Looking at the clueless expression on the corporal’s face, Dean replied, “No, just go get Captain Kern. Tell him to hurry.”
Dean picked up the files and headed into the adjoining office. She flipped on the overhead light, squinting at the brightness of the fluorescents. Walking over to the desk, she tossed the files on top of the green blotter, turned on the desk lamp, then walked back to the doorway and snapped off the overhead lights. Next, she unzipped her leather jacket and hung it on the coat rack by the door before walking behind the desk and taking a seat on the worn wooden chair. By the time Captain Kern arrived, she had skimmed through the top two files that held the initial crime report and interviews, as well as the court transcripts.
“What’s up, Colonel?” Captain Kern questioned as he slipped off his BDU jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
“We’ve got 36 hours to find Elsa’s rapist. If we can’t find the perp in that time, we’ll have to rely on another means to defuse the situation.” She looked up at the captain with an icy stare. He fully understood the unspoken implications. She nodded at the two files she’d already read. “Solid work by the MP’s and the JAG. Sergeant Dover is definitely innocent.” Captain Kern looked pleased at his superior’s comments, but soon wiped the smile off his face when she lifted her eyes to meet his. “The only thing I don’t understand is why no one bothered to pursue the case to find the real rapist.”
The captain stammered a bit before speaking, “Well, um, Colonel, we knew our man was innocent, so, we… ah…”
“Decided that it wasn’t your problem?” she finished for him.
“Yes, Ma’am. That’s exactly what we decided.” He swallowed hard as he watched her eyes turn to ice, with an expression to match.
“So…you decided that it was okay to ignore Section 36A of the SOP for Complaints Filed on Bases Housed on Foreign Soil?”
Turning a deep red, the captain knew that they should have pursued the matter, but never realized that failure to do so would have such devastating repercussions. He hung his head and nodded. “Ma’am, we just ran out of leads and figured that there was nothing left to do.”
“You realize I could bring you up on charges?” Dean inquired.
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Well, I’m not going to do that. You’ve got a second chance here, Captain. You need to pull your investigative team together and go over every detail and every lead again, and again, until we find the person responsible.” She looked straight into his eyes, boring her will into him. “Now,” she said, picking up the third file, “is this what you’ve collected since this afternoon?”
“Yes, Ma’am. We were able to run down a couple of the supposed witnesses this afternoon and evening.” Hoping to regain some stature with this powerful woman, he continued eagerly. “These two guys, Fritz and Hans Krantz,” he said, pointing at the first two sheets of paper, “were nowhere to be found after they gave their initial testimony. They were supposedly out of the country when the trial came up, so they didn’t show for the trial. Without the ability to cross examine them on the stand, their statements didn’t carry any weight. They aren’t exactly models of respectability around here, so the JAG was disappointed when he couldn’t examine them on the stand.”
Dean looked at the reports, starting to sort out pieces of the puzzle. “Where are they now?”
“They were seen at a bar on Dorfmund late this afternoon. I’ve got two guys out looking to bring them in.”
Dean read their descriptions again and thought they fit the two guys she’d seen in the Vetter Bar that afternoon; but then, their descriptions fit half the population in Heidelberg.
“Do you have pictures of these two?”
“Yeah, we do.” He stood and went to the computer behind Dean and turned it on. “We take pictures of everyone who comes in to place a complaint or even give us a compliment. It’s SOP by the Intelligence Section. Never know when you might need it.”
Dean nodded at the information. Yeah, that’s exactly why I wrote that SOP. They waited in silence as the computer booted up, and Captain Kern entered the log request. In two minutes, Dean and Captain Kern were staring at the pictures of Heinrich and Friedrich Wertz, alias Hans and Fritz Krantz.
“I’ll be damned,” Dean muttered, as she recognized the two men from the bar. “These guys have any connection with the neo-Nazi group?”
“Not that we’ve discovered. Why?”
“They’re the same guys that tried to follow me this afternoon.” She stared at the photos, slotting more pieces into place. “As soon as your men find these guys, I want to talk to them.” Captain Kern nodded, glad to see the thin smile appear on the colonel’s face.
“Make me a copy of these pictures, then you can go back to your billet. I’ll check with you back here at 0700 hours.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” the captain replied as he hit the print button.
Dean stood and walked over to the door, retrieving her jacket. She put it on as the printer spat out the completed prints. Captain Kern picked up the photos and reached across the desk to hand them to Dean. “Thanks,” she said as she took the photos in hand, contemplating them once more before folding them and putting them in an inside jacket pocket . Zipping her jacket, she stepped through the doorway, nodding at the now fully awake corporal who had returned to his desk. She walked briskly down the hallway and readied herself for the cold air of the night as she opened the door to the outside. As she walked the 200 yards to the BOQ, she grinned broadly and said, “Gotcha!”
* * * * *
Chapter 18
12 December, 2000 Hours (USA)
Katie snapped the book shut and placed it on the end table. She stood and stretched from head to toe, side-to-side, and front to back. “Man, I had better get in some exercise before I turn into a big blob. Maybe I should go out for a run…I could even hit the convenience store on my way back. Hmm, if I do an extra couple of miles I could even get a container of Ben & Jerry’s. Oh, yeah, Cherry Garcia!” Now that she had the incentive to run, Katie changed into her long, black spandex pants, a long sleeved t-shirt, and bright orange sweatshirt. She tied her Reeboks, did a few stretches, slipped the chain holding her room key over her head, and headed out the door, locking it behind her. On her fourth lap around the running trail, as she came up to the path where she’d seen Dr. Prokov earlier that morning, she slowed her pace as she remembered the look on the psychologist’s face, and the chill made a return visit down her spine.
“I wonder where she was coming from this morning,” Katie considered as she looked down the path to the roadway. As she peered down the trail, she was surprised to see a local cab idling at the curb.
“Now what’s that cab doing there?” she whispered to herself.
Curious, she decided to check it out. She slipped into the woods and quietly but carefully made her way down. When she got about ten yards from the vehicle, she hid behind a short evergreen bush and strained to pick up any conversation. There was none to be heard since the vehicle had all of its windows up, and the sound of the idling motor was all she could discern. It was dark enough to keep her hidden, and also dark enough to make it difficult to see inside the cab since it was sitting in the shadows between two streetlights. As she continued to investigate, her eyes adjusted to the point where she could barely pick out the silhouette of two passengers from the subtle glow of the dashboard. She gasped as she recognized Dr. Prokov in the passenger seat.
Out for another tête-à-tête? Katie wondered as she continued watching. The conversation turned heated, and soon, Dr. Prokov opened the door to exit the cab. The dome light had been turned off, so she still could not recognize the driver, but the words that followed, although benign, raised the hair on her neck from the fury with which they were spoken.
“Take care of it tonight!” Meisha spat as she got out. She shut the cab door quietly, and watched as the vehicle pulled away from the curb. Once the cab was out of view, she turned and started up the path. At that instant, Katie’s cell phone decided to begin vibrating. When Dr. Prokov came abreast of where Katie was hiding, she slowed, looked around, and was about to walk into the woods when a squirrel bounded from the bush, startling the doctor and heading up the tree on the opposite side of the path. Katie was holding her breath as she realized that the woman in front of her was about to come her way, obviously alerted by the vibrating phone. When the squirrel jumped out of the evergreen, she about lost it. She had been so intent on watching the cab, that she never noticed the critter sitting in the limb of the bush. As Meisha watched the animal scamper up the tree to her right, she shook her head and turned back to the path, heading up it without looking back. A dull flash of gunmetal caught Katie’s attention as Meisha slipped the gun she had been holding in her good hand back into her coat pocket. When the psychologist was far enough out of earshot, Katie slowly let out her breath. When she flipped her phone open, she saw that the call had come from Dean.
Phew! That was close. Reflecting on the glimpse of the gun, Katie thought, Now I wonder why she feels she needs to carry that around here? Surely she can’t think these grounds are unsafe. I wonder what a cabbie has to take care of tonight? Just who was that guy… or…was it another woman? Shaking her head, the blonde decided there were just too many questions, and her initial assessment of Dr. Meisha Prokov was in need of a review in light of her strange behavior. But, was her behavior really strange? Or is it just because I’ve never been exposed to this side of her? C’mon, Katie. Why would a world-renowned profiler have clandestine meetings with cabbies? Whoa! Where did that come from? Damn, Dean. Why’d you have to be gone right now?
Sighing, Katie slipped out from her hiding place, deciding to take the longer route back to her room, and headed down to the road, picking up her pace as her muscles re-warmed. Her mind raced with questions and how she might get some answers. After another fifteen minutes of jogging and a quick shower when she got back to her room, a very tired Katie crept into bed without even missing her self-promised reward of Cherries Garcia ice cream. Before she turned off the light, she dialed Dean’s cell phone.
* * * * *
Dean closed the phone and wondered where Katie was at that hour without her phone. She’s probably in the shower, Dean thought as she placed the phone on her nightstand and checked her watch one more time, mentally calculating the five-hour difference in time. Guess I’ll give her a call tomorrow. Dean pulled the blanket back and sat on the side of the bed. Scrubbing her face with her hands, she inhaled deeply then slowly let out the breath, centering her thoughts. She reached down and slipped off her wool socks before sliding her long body under the covers. Finding a comfortable position on her back, Dean stared at the ceiling and started running down her mental check list.
One…The rape pushed Gunter into joining the neo-Nazi’s. Two…my bet for who committed the rape goes on Hans or his brother and not one of our soldiers. Three…Why was it so important to get Gunter into the group? Four…How am I going to convince him that it was his own man that hurt his sister? Five…Where are Hans and his brother hiding? Six…Where to next? Dean closed her eyes and concentrated on her relaxation technique, easing herself into a light sleep in the process. Ten minutes later, her cell phone chirped.
Dean picked up the phone and answered, “Colonel Peterson.”
“Agent O’Malley, here,” Katie countered in a faux official tone.
“Hey. How are you?” Dean asked, eyes still closed.
“Tired. I ran about six miles tonight. Figured I needed a bit of exercise.”
“Well, that should have done it. Did you have your phone with you?”
“Yep, but I couldn’t pick up when you called.”
Frowning, Dean asked, “Why not?”
“Um, I was hiding in a bush and didn’t want to be found out.”
“Okaayy. Why were you hiding in a bush?”
“Long story, but the short of it is, I happened upon a clandestine meeting between Dr. Prokov and a cabbie.”
“What makes you think it was more than just being dropped off by a cab?”
“Well, for one thing, it was a weird place to be dropped off…on the back side of the housing area. The cab can go right up to her housing unit, so why there?”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“For another, she didn’t sound very friendly when she was getting out. The sentence was non-committal, but the tone was very aggressive.”
“What’d she say?”
“Something like ‘Take care of it tonight;’ but with an attitude.”
“Hmm, maybe she was just commenting on the condition of the cab?”
“Could be, but why in such a violent tone? Then, when she was coming up the path, she may have heard the vibrating sound when the phone went off…”
“Uh, oh. What happened?”
“Well, luckily there was a squirrel in my bush, and the vibrating spooked him out and across the path to another tree. Prokov must have figured it was just the squirrel.”
“Lucky you!”
“Yeah, especially when she saw it was just a squirrel, and she put her gun back in her pocket!”
Dean was not happy with this bit of information. “A gun? What’s she doing carrying a gun there?”
Katie sensed the concern in her lover’s voice. “Who knows? Maybe she needed it for protection wherever she went? Hey, love. Don’t worry, everything turned out okay.”
“Yeah, thanks to a nervous squirrel.” After a pause, Dean added, “Look, love, just be careful around her. I’m not too sure I liked that woman in the first place.”
“Well, I’m beginning to do a little critical review of her myself,” Katie offered.
“Maybe the less contact you have with her the better,” Dean suggested.
“Mmm, that’s what I’ve been thinking, too. I don’t want her to get curious, so I’ll just try to keep minimal contact with her.” After I have lunch with her tomorrow and try to find out why she carries a gun, Katie thought. “So, how goes it there?”
“I think we got a big break tonight. If all goes well, I’ll be on my way to Fort Leavenworth by this time tomorrow.”
“That’s good news, then. I hope it all works out.”
“Me too, love. Hey, you’d better get to sleep.”
“Yeah, you too. Night.”
“Goodnight.” Dean closed the phone and returned it to her nightstand. She felt better being able to talk to Katie, but was concerned about the turn of events with Dr. Prokov. Katie, Katie. Just stay out of trouble until I get home, will ya? At least at Quantico you’re safe from our wacko. Finishing that thought, Dean rolled over and went back to sleep.
* * * * *
It was now 0700 on the 13th of December. Dean was up, showered, and ready to put her plan in action. She had begun to formulate her next steps as she’d drifted off to sleep the night before, and finished her thoughts while in the shower. If the Krantz/Wertz brothers couldn’t be found, she was going to take a trip to see Elsa. Her gut was telling her they were responsible for the rape, and hopefully, she would be able to get Elsa to recognize them from their pictures. Then, she would need to convince Gunter of their guilt. The big question was, why get Gunter into the neo-Nazi group in the first place. Gunter hated the fact that his only brother Erich was involved with them; he hated war, hated violence. He had always been a man of peace, so what made him change? Elsa’s rape was obviously the prod, but what was this group trying to accomplish by getting Gunter involved?
The questions continued in her head while Dean jogged the short distance from the BOQ to Captain Kern’s office. As soon as she entered, Corporal Jenkins called the other personnel in the office to attention as he rose from his desk. Colonel Peterson directed the group to resume their duties as she spied a fresh pot of coffee brewing behind the corporal.
“Have enough of that to share?” Dean queried as she pointed at the coffee pot.
“Yes, Ma’am!” the corporal replied, and turned to pour her a cup. “Take anything in it, Colonel?”
“Not today, Corporal. Three and a half hours of sleep calls for drastic measures.”
“Excuse me, Ma’am?”
Smiling at the young soldier, Dean told him that she normally drank tea, but figured that office coffee would probably be more potent.
“That it is, Colonel. That stuff will take the rust off a WWII tank.” He picked up his bottle of Pepsi and smiled at her. “This is my eye-opener.”
Nodding, the colonel asked if Captain Kern was in yet, and found that the captain had come in about ten minutes earlier. Corporal Jenkins offered to tell him she was there, to which she shook her head in the negative saying that he’d be expecting her.
“Thanks, Jenkins,” she supplied as she headed into the captain’s office, coffee mug in hand.
“Any time, Ma’am,” he replied before he resumed his seat and went back to his filing.
Colonel Peterson walked down the hallway to Captain Kern’s office, conscious of the veiled looks she was getting from the rest of the staff. She knocked once, then entered the office. The captain did not look like he had gotten any more sleep after she’d dismissed him the night before. Good. He was probably up the rest of the night trying to find the two brothers. As soon as he saw her enter, he stood at attention.
“At ease,” Dean commanded as she took a seat across from his desk. She took a healthy swig of the coffee and had to use all her control to keep from grimacing.
“Um, that’s pretty strong stuff, Colonel. I have my own pot right here.” He pointed at a coffee pot on the bookcase.
“Nope, this is just fine,” she lied. “Now, tell me how the search is going. Have you found the brothers?”
“My men haven’t reported in yet, Ma’am. I’m expecting them soon.”
“Let’s hope they found them; but just in case, I’m going to the hospital to see Elsa.” She took the photos out of the file folder she had brought with her. “I’m betting that these two are the ones that raped her. If I can just get through to her, we may be able to defuse this situation.”
“Will you be able to get in to see her?”
“Not a problem, but I’ll need you to get me a few things before I leave.”
* * * * *
By 0800, Colonel Peterson was heading to the Universität des Heidelberg Krankenhaus. She was dressed as a doctor, complete with white lab coat, stethoscope, clipboard, and a pair of black-rimmed glasses. With her hair in a bun and a no-nonsense expression, she looked very much the part of a physician. She parked the black Mercedes she had borrowed in a slot for visiting doctors, and walked authoritatively toward the hospital entrance. She approached the reception area and informed them she was there to see Elsa Krieg.
“Guten Morgen. Ich bin Doktor Schwann von Berlin. Ich bin hier, Elsa Krieg zu sehen. Ihr Bruder Gunter bat um meine Auswertung ihres Zustandes.”
The receptionist looked up at Dean and replied, “Ja, Doktor Schwann. Sie ist im Westflügel, Raum 435. Hier, müssen Sie diesen Durchlauf zugelassen werden.”
“Danke,” Dean said as she accepted the proffered pass to the psychiatric wing. Smiling at the young woman, she turned and headed for the elevators. Arriving at the secure wing, she showed her pass and was allowed to enter. She nodded at the nurses at the front desk and repeated the information she’d given the receptionist. These nurses were not as easy to fool, and they asked a few more questions before accepting Dean’s story. Satisfied, they led her to Elsa’s room, where they left her to do her evaluation. Once Dean verified that the nurse had returned to her station, she pulled a chair over to Elsa’s bedside and looked down at the young woman, her determination reaffirmed to seek justice for the crime committed.
“Elsa,” she spoke softly as she picked up the woman’s hand and softly caressed it with her thumb. It was hard for Dean to believe that it had been nearly thirteen years since she’d first met Gunter’s sister. Elsa was twelve at the time. At twenty-five, she had blossomed into a definite beauty. Nearly as tall as Dean, with medium length blonde hair and deep hazel eyes, her Teutonic heritage was evident. Her body, though, showed signs of atrophy, even though she was receiving daily physical therapy to work her muscles. Looking down at her, Dean was overwhelmed with sadness.
“Elsa, it’s Dean. Do you remember me?” There was no response, so Dean adjusted her position to be in direct view of the woman lying in the bed. “Elsa, do you remember the nickname I had for you? Munchkin…my little munchkin.” She smiled down on the young woman, with fond memories of a gifted girl of twelve giggling at the Lollipop Guilders in the Wizard of Oz. Enthralled with the movie, she’d watched it over and over, until she could recite nearly all the lines by heart. Desperate to rekindle Elsa’s memories, Dean inhaled deeply and began singing one of their favorites from the show in a nasal tone.
“We represent the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild, the Lollipop Guild…” A flicker in Elsa’s eyes; Dean continued, “That’s it, munchkin. C’mon, sing with me.” Dean continued with the whimsical song, moving closer to Elsa’s face, watching her lips begin to form around broken words. “…We wish to welcome you to Muchkinland…Atta girl, c’mon, just a little more…” By the time she’d finished the silly song, she could have sworn that Elsa was trying to sing with her, but no voice accompanied with the feeble lip movements. Not knowing what to do next, Dean stood and gently placed the hand she was holding back on the woman’s chest. Sighing heavily, she walked to the window and looked out at the hills surrounding the city. “Oh, Elsa. It’s a terrible thing they’ve done to you. No one should have to endure that.” She looked back at the quiet patient lying in the bed. “I promise you, Elsa, I will find out who did this to you and make sure they are punished for their crime.” Dean turned back to the window, tears now making their way down her cheeks. She stood there for a minute longer before returning to the bedside. Settling down in the chair next to the bed, she resumed holding Elsa’s hand and began humming Somewhere Over the Rainbow from the Wizard of Oz. Her eyes closed as she started to softly sing the lyrics, tears still tracking lines on her face. She was nearing the end of the song when she noticed the hand she was holding was squeezing hers back. Opening her eyes, she gazed at Elsa’s sleeping form. Was I dreaming, or did she really squeeze my hand? Her eyes followed the hand she was holding back to its owner, finally resting on Elsa’s face. That’s when she noticed the tears. Elsa was crying.
“Elsa?” Dean whispered as she took her right hand and gently brushed the tears from Elsa’s face. “Elsa, it’s me, Dean. Please…please open your eyes and look at me.” She waited, holding her breath, hoping that Elsa was able to recognize her.
“Glinda,” Elsa whispered, barely audible.
“Yes!” Dean almost shouted as she recognized Elsa’s nickname for her. “Yes, Elsa. It’s me.” She reached down and pulled the fragile young woman into her arms, tears once again springing from her eyes. She remained holding Elsa for a bit longer, then finally, gently, laid her back on her bed. “Sweetheart, do you know where you are?”
Elsa looked around the room, taking in every card and flower. “Am I in hospital?”
“Yes. You have been here for a little over two months.”
“Why?” she asked, wide-eyed.
“Elsa, this will be difficult. If you want me to stop, just tell me.” The young woman nodded but was obviously confused. Dean continued, “You were attacked by some men.”
Elsa looked at Dean, confusion still evident. “Who would attack me? Why?” she asked slowly. Dean was not sure if she should give her the details up front, or let her work it out for herself, or a combination of both.
Opting to help her work it out, Dean led her through a series of exploratory questions, leading her to the night of the rape. A silence pervaded the hospital room as Elsa searched her memory for bits and pieces that might lead her to the horrific event. Not able to conjure up the needed memories, Dean carefully broached the topic of the Krantz brothers.
“Elsa, do you know two brothers by the name of Hans and Fritz Krantz?”
The young woman searched her memory, but shook her head, “Ich erkenne nicht die Namen. Um, no I do not.”
“How about Heinrich and Frederich Wertz?”
Pausing, Elsa could not come up with a memory of those names either.
“Elsa, I want to show you some pictures of these men. It may help to stir your memory, but it may also be very painful. Are you willing to risk that?”
“Ja,” she answered almost immediately. “I am not afraid. I have my Glinda with me,” she smiled at Dean, “and she will protect me.”
Dean leaned over and gave Elsa a hug, then said, “You are a very brave girl, munchkin.” She released her, then stood and retrieved the folder with the pictures and returned to Elsa’s side.
“I am not a little girl any more. I am woman,” Elsa said proudly as she labored to make room for Dean on her bed, her loss of strength obvious.
Nodding, Dean simply smiled at the courage shown by her young friend and took a seat next to Elsa, ready to do whatever was necessary if the reaction brought an unpleasant response. She handed the folder to Elsa, and braced herself. Elsa opened the folder and considered the pictures. At first, Dean thought her gut instincts were wrong, but then she noticed that Elsa’s hands began to tremble.
“Elsa? Are you all right?” Dean moved to look directly at her, studying the reaction and trying to decide if she needed to intervene.
Elsa began nodding her head and rocking. “Ja ja ja… diese Männer... sie... sie...,” her English was completely lost as she stared at the pictures.
“Elsa. Are they…are they the men who hurt you?”
“Diese Männer...verletzten sie...mich. Sie nahmen mich, heftig zerrissen weg meine Kleider...sie...” Dean took the photos from her trembling hands and wrapped her arms around her, rocking with her.
“Yes, Elsa. Those men hurt you. And, I promise you, they’ll never hurt you again.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” Gunter shouted as he walked into the room and saw Dean holding a crying Elsa. “Get away from her!” He stormed over to the bed and grabbed Dean violently, pulling her off the bed and nearly pulling Elsa with her.
“Gunter...Anschlag!” Elsa choked out, reaching for the hand that was headed toward Dean’s face.
“I will not stop…” he said, then did exactly that, turning to face his sister. “Elsa? Elsa, my God, Elsa…you…you’re.” He released his hold on Dean and stepped closer to the bed, staring in confusion at his sister, then back to Dean. “What happened? How?” His words were lost as he pulled his sister into a gentle embrace, weeping along with her. Dean stood and watched as Gunter stroked his sister’s hair, touched her face, and kissed her cheek.
“The good witch Glinda broke the spell,” Elsa said, as she wiped the tears from his face.
“Glinda?” he asked, confused.
“Yes, Gunter, Dean…Glinda…my good witch from childhood. You remember?”
“Ahh.” He released his sister and turned back toward Dean who was smiling at Elsa. “I’m sorry, my friend. I should have known you wouldn’t hurt Elsa.”
“You’re right, Gunter. I would never hurt her.” She reached over and place her right hand on Elsa’s shoulder. “Right, munchkin?” That got a smile and a nod before Elsa’s exhaustion caused her to fall back against her pillows, her brother’s concern evident in his expression. “Gunter, she’s had a couple of rough months, but she’ll be okay. She’s back with us now.”
Quietly, Elsa added, “Yes, brother. I will be okay.”
In the next hour, Dean filled Gunter in on how she was able to bring Elsa out of her state of shock, and more importantly, on whom her attackers really were and how they were going to deal with them.
“Fritz and his brother? But why?” Gunter asked, still baffled as to why they would have done this to his sister.
“I don’t know for certain…but, probably to lure you into the fold. What’s the background on these guys? Where are they from?”
“I don’t know much about them. They came just about the time Elsa was…” He looked over at a now sleeping Elsa who had a relaxed, peaceful look on her face. “All I know is that they came from one of the factions up north.”
“So, they’re new to the area. Do you know where they are now?”
“Yes. They are preparing for the symposium…in our camp.”
“There’s got to be more to this than meets the eye,” Dean shook her head. “Gunter, now that you know the truth, you have to stop the attack on the symposium, then we’ll take care of the Krantz brothers.”
“You have my word. The symposium will not be disrupted.”
“Good enough for me.” Dean reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her phone and placed a call to General Carlton giving the go-ahead for the symposium. She checked her watch and noted that it was 1300. She had completed the job well before the deadline. “Ok, Gunter, let’s tie up a few loose ends, then I’ve got a plane to catch back to the States tonight.”
* * * * *
Chapter 19
14 December, 1245 Hours (USA)
Katie stood in line at the deli section of the cafeteria, waiting for her sandwich. Her protective instincts warred with her professional instincts; she was both relieved and disappointed to see that Dr. Prokov was nowhere in sight. Relieved because she really wanted to keep at a distance, but disappointed because she wouldn’t have the chance to see if she could find out more about the clandestine trips the psychologist seemed to be making at strange hours. Hmm, maybe she ate already. Well, Dean did want me to stay away from her. She picked up her order of corned beef on rye from the food service worker, placing it on her tray. Walking over to the milk machine, she picked up a large glass and filled it with skim milk before heading over to the dessert section. While she evaluated her choices, she did not see Dr. Prokov set her tray on the tubular tray rails next to her. Deciding on the last plate of apple cobbler, Katie reached for it just as another hand slipped her prize away from her. Disappointed, she followed the hand as it placed the cobbler on the tray next to hers. It was only as she looked up, that she noticed it was Meisha Prokov.
“Oh, hi,” she said in a startled voice.
“I’m sorry, Katie. Did you want the cobbler?” Meisha knew that Katie had been reaching for the cobbler, and just barely was able to sneak it away from her grasp.
“Huh? Oh, no, go ahead. I probably should stay away from dessert today, anyway.”
“Really? With all the running you do, I would imagine you could eat just about all the dessert you want.”
“Running?” Katie almost tripped over the word. I wonder if she did see me last night.
“Yes. I mean, didn’t I see you running the other day?”
Uh oh. “Well, possibly, but I really don’t pay much attention when I run. I’m just concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other…” Katie blurted.
Meisha just laughed as she picked up her tray and pointed at an empty table near the corner. “Want to sit by the window?”
“Uh, sure. That is, if you want company?”
“Of course. I’ve been looking forward to our little lunchtime chats...haven’t you?” Meisha reached the table and set her tray down, chuckling internally as she saw the young agent begin to blush.
“Yes, yes, of course. It’s just that, I don’t want to…impose…if you would rather be alone.”
“Nonsense! Now, what have you been up to?”
Oh, wow. That’s a loaded question. Okay, kiddo, may as well make the most of it. Let’s see what we can find out today, shall we? “Well, I’ve just been working on my lesson plans for after the holidays. How about you?”
The two women talked about generalities as they ate, neither divulging much information in their idle chit-chat. Finally, as Meisha rearranged her tray to place the plate of cobbler in front of her, Katie found herself staring at Meisha’s deformed hand as it held the plate. Without thinking, Katie asked, “How did your hand get injured?”
Placing her spoon down, Meisha clasped her hands together, enfolding the deformity with her good hand as she pulled it to her chest.
“I’m sorry. That was rude of me.” Katie spoke quickly as she saw a flicker of… something…in the doctor’s eyes.
“No, it’s not a problem,” the psychologist replied as she stared down at her hands. “Actually, it’s my little reminder of what happens when you underestimate your prey.”
“Prey? I don’t understand. Are you a hunter?”
“You could say that.” Meisha looked up at Katie and smiled. “I enjoy a challenge. The deadlier the prey, the more exciting the challenge.”
Having tried her hand at deer hunting once with a college friend, Katie pursued the topic. “I went deer hunting once with a friend. I had my sights lined up on a doe, but just couldn’t bring myself to pull the trigger. She was so peaceful looking. When her eyes met mine…Well, it was almost as though she winked at me, then dashed off into the woods.” Katie recalled the scene as though it were just yesterday. “I haven’t had the desire to do that again.” She paused, “So what kind of game do you hunt? Deer? Turkey?”
Meisha laughed, “Oh, no. I don’t bother with small game.”
“Oh? Big game, then, like bear or moose?”
Meisha shook her head. “No, I hunt predators.”
“Predators?”
“Yes. I hunt the hunters.” She smiled at Katie, tempting her with the metaphor. “My injury occurred when I underestimated the power of a cornered predator’s mate.”
The look she gave Katie as she explained, sent a chill up the blonde’s spine, temporarily discomfiting her.
Katie had the distinct feeling that she was being baited. “Ah. Well. I guess you were lucky then to come away alive.”
“Yes, I guess I am. But, I’ll settle the score some day…Maybe soon.”
The sentence hung in the air for a long moment, pulling Katie into her own thoughts as flashes of something familiar niggled her. “Oh, my.” She looked at her watch. “I really have to go.” Katie stood and picked up her tray, wanting to get away from this woman, but not knowing or understanding why. “Maybe I’ll see you later.”
“Oh, I’m sure you will.” Meisha pushed away from the table and stood, watching Katie as the blonde headed to the tray deposit station. Softly she added, “Soon.”
* * * * *
Katie was on her way to her small office when her cell phone chirped. Pulling it out of the backpack, she opened the phone and held it to her ear. “Hey, you have the best timing.”
“Excuse me? Is this Agent O’Malley?” the voice asked, a bit confused at the salutation.
Realizing that it was not Dean on the other end, Katie recovered and replied, “Yes. This is Agent O’Malley.”
“This is Lieutenant Green…from the Occoquan PD.”
Recognizing the name, Katie nodded in response. “Yes, Lieutenant. Sorry, I was expecting someone else to call.”
“Well, I’ll make this short then.”
“What can I do for you?” Katie continued walking to her small office as she spoke.
“Well, I know Colonel Peterson is out of town, so I thought I would take a chance and try to call you.”
“That’s right, you were going to interview the night clerk. Was she able to ID our perp?” Katie cut in as she remembered what day it was.
“Yes and no. That is why I’m calling, but unfortunately, she won’t be able to ID anyone.”
“What do you mean? Was she unable to give a description?”
“It seems as though Ms. Fitzgerald had a heart attack last night. She didn’t make it.”
“Oh my God,” Katie replied softly as she entered her office. “I didn’t realize she was elderly.”
“Actually, she wasn’t. She just turned thirty on Monday. She was celebrating her birthday with friends and family while on vacation.”
“Was there any indication that she had heart trouble?” Katie’s mind was processing possibilities as she considered this information. “Is an autopsy being done?”
“At this point, no autopsy is being ordered since there is no evidence of foul play. We’re checking with her physician to see if she had a history of heart trouble.” The lieutenant sighed audibly before continuing. “If anything turns up, I’ll let you know; but for right now, we’re back to square one.”
“I understand. Thank you for calling, Lieutenant.” Katie disconnected and placed the phone on top of Meisha’s book, which was lying on her desktop. “Well, that just sounds a little coincidental to me,” she spoke out loud. She looked down at the book and thought about the enigmatic author. “I think it’s about time I try to find out a little more about you, Dr. Prokov.” With that thought in mind, she picked up the book and perused the book jacket, then the inside pages for more information. Finding scant detail on the author, Katie decided to contact the publisher.
* * * * *
Meisha Prokov was pacing her small office, cell phone in hand. “What do you mean, she figured it out? Of all the incompetent…” She paused, exhaling deeply, trying to control her temper. “Where is she now? …What do you mean you don’t know! …Never mind, I’ll find out. She’s probably on her way to Kansas City.” Irritated, Meisha stomped across her office to her desk, pulled out the chair, and sat down. “No, I don’t care about the symposium. Your job was to delay her, and you’ve botched that. Now, tell me how you escaped from Gunter.” She spent another three minutes on the phone before she disconnected. “Damn,” she cursed out loud. “Now I’ll have to move up my timetable.” She picked up her phone once more and entered a number. When the voice on the other end answered, she said in a controlled voice, “The schedule has changed. Get everything ready and wait for my call.” She hung up before there could be a protest.
* * * * *
The huge cargo plane landed at the old city airport across the river from Kansas City. She had been lucky to catch the U. S. Army Reserve plane to this airport instead of having to detour to Fort Leavenworth, Kansas and then drive to Kansas City. Leavenworth was less than an hour from KC, but this worked out a lot better, even with the overnight stop in Rotterdam. Picking up her bag, she exited the plane from the rear ramp along with several jeeps that were being off-loaded by the reservists returning from a two-week training mission. She inhaled deeply of the fresh air as she walked off the ramp. The weather was clear and the temperature in the mid-fifties. She spotted the commander of the reserve unit and walked over to him.
“Colonel Smith,” she called, extending her hand to him. “Thanks for the lift. I really appreciate it.” Colonel Mitchell Smith was the Chief Nurse for the 352nd General Hospital Unit located in Independence, Missouri. He had seen a lot of active duty and was just finishing out his last year in the reserves before retiring. He had been the charge nurse on the floor where Dean had been recovering from one of her nastier missions, so it made the ten hour flight much more enjoyable.
Colonel Smith accepted the proffered hand and smiled back at her. “My pleasure, Colonel. The offer of a lift into the city is still on the table.”
“Thanks, but I’ll just get a rental. I could use a lift over to the Hertz dealer, though.”
“Can do,” he replied, signaling a staff sergeant who was driving off one of the jeeps. “Give my regards to Major Kidd the next time you see her.” He picked up Dean’s bag and placed it in the back of the open jeep, directing the sergeant to deliver the colonel to the Hertz dealer. “Good to see you again, Dean.” He saluted her as she eased into the passenger seat.
Returning the salute, Dean nodded. “Same here, Mitch. Thanks again for the lift.”
The rental office was across the tarmac, on the civilian side of the airport. It only took a few minutes to traverse the distance, and ten minutes longer before Dean was loading her bag into the trunk of the Grand Am she’d rented. Checking the map the rental agent gave her, she decided to check into the Crown Center Hotel on Pershing Road first, grab a shower, and change into civvies before calling on Reverend Lewistan at the City Mission. A little voice in her head started to speak, Yeah, that’s right. Put off seeing your Dad ‘til the last possible minute. Out loud she answered the voice. “No, I just need a shower. Besides, I don’t need to be showing up in my uniform.” Why? Are you ashamed of it? “No! I’m not. I just…Damn it all! All right, let’s get this over with!”
Dean turned the key, bringing the car to life. She checked her mirrors and pulled out of the parking lot, taking North Broadway across the Missouri river. Checking the street signs, she took a right on 17th and another right on Jefferson. The City Mission was at the end of the block and faced the Interstates 35 and 670 interchange. The area was old and run down with several of the buildings abandoned, but the little mission was a rose among the thorns. The building before her was a four-story red brick structure with a metal fire escape zigzagging down the side of the building facing the parking lot. It looked to her like it may have been converted from an old school building. The vicinity immediately around the structure was clean and had short evergreen shrubs surrounding it and the parking area.
Dean pulled into the parking lot, noticing a fenced playground behind the building. There were several children playing on the equipment, the sounds of their laughter mingling with the traffic sounds from the interchange. As she stepped out of the car, she checked her watch, noting that it was nearly 1430 hours. In another hour or so, it would be too dark for them to play.
Okay, let’s get on with it. She stepped briskly to the side door, each step ratcheting up the queasiness in her stomach. Entering the building, she saw a directional sign for the main office and followed it to the front of the building. The office was enclosed in a wall half of plasterboard, half of glass. The glassed upper half was covered with mini-blinds that were open, allowing office staff to see out and visitors to see in. Dean scanned the interior of the office and was almost relieved that she did not recognize anyone resembling her father. Placing her right hand on the doorknob, she took a deep breath and scolded herself for the trepidation she was feeling. C’mon, Dean. You’ve faced horrible things in your life. How bad can this be? You’re just gonna see him. You don’t have to spend a lot of time with him. Just see him and get back to Katie as fast as you can. Steeling herself for the final time, she turned the doorknob and entered.
The young black woman sitting at the desk looked up as the door opened. “May I help you?” she asked as she took in the sight of the BDU clad woman entering with her hat in hand.
Swallowing hard to gain her voice, Dean nodded. “Yes. I’m looking for Reverend Lewistan. I’m Colonel…um, I’m Deanna Peterson.”
“Oh, yes!” the woman responded, standing quickly and smiling at her. She stepped around the desk and offered her hand to Dean. “The reverend said you would be coming by.” Dean accepted the small, warm hand and shook it gently. “My name’s Rhonda. Have a seat.” She pointed at the old wooden pew under the front window that served as visitor seating. “She’s out on the playground with the children. I’ll go get her.”
Before Dean could utter her thanks, the young woman was out the door. Dean sat where she was told, resting her hands on her thighs. Looking down at her combat boots and her cover still in her hand, she began to regret not going to change first. Hearing footsteps in the hall, Dean stood, looking at the office door. Reverend Martha Lewistan entered, smiling.
“Hello, Dean. Welcome to City Mission.” The petite woman walked over to the tall visitor and embraced her. She immediately picked up on the anxiety level Dean was experiencing, hugging her more tightly in response. “I’m glad you could make it.” She released her and stepped back. “Come into my office, and we’ll chat a bit before I take you to your father.”
My father, Dean thought numbly as she followed wordlessly.
Once in the office, the older woman pointed to a guest chair next to her desk. “Have a seat.” Dean sat, still speechless. “I take it that everything was cleared up in Germany?” she asked as she circled behind the desk to sit in her chair.
“Yes, yes. Everything worked out fine.” Glad to be talking about anything other than her father, Dean gave a thumbnail sketch of the events in Germany.
“My, I’m glad it all turned out well. Will Elsa recover completely?”
“The doctor’s are very optimistic. Mentally, she’s still dealing with the rape; but physically, she should bounce back quickly.” Silence filled the room as they each waited for the other to speak.
“Well, I suppose you would like to see your father. After all, that’s why you’re here.” The reverend stood and walked around to the front of her desk, sitting in the chair next to Dean’s. She placed her hand on Dean’s arm. “It will be okay, Dean. He’s very anxious to see you, but I’m afraid that he’s not doing too well right now. In fact, I didn’t tell him that you would be here today, so he wouldn’t try to overexert himself to prepare for you.”
This piece of information surprised Dean as she shifted to look at Martha. “Why? What happened?”
“Nothing unusual, dear. He had his chemo treatment on Monday, and it’s taken its toll on him. It usually takes a few days for him to get back on his feet after a treatment.
“Does he live far from here?”
“Well, if you call three flights up, far…C’mon, I’m sure he’s awake by now. He takes a mid-afternoon nap to cope with the effects, but he’s usually awake at this time.” Martha stood and took the lead toward the door, Dean following after her. They walked back toward the way Dean had come in, turning right at the back corridor. Midway down this hallway, Martha stopped and pulled a metal expansion gate open, exposing a small freight elevator. “It’s not plush, but it serves the purpose,” she explained as they entered. Pulling the gate closed, she hit a button simply marked ‘up,’ and the elevator slowly jerked its way upward.
“ Here’s the tricky part. Getting it to stop even with the floor Martha watched as the wall in front of them, marked with a big white ‘3’ inched past. The top of the wall ended, and Dean could see the hallway for the third floor appear. Martha waited, hand poised at the button until she decided it was the right time. She pushed the ‘stop’ button, and the elevator chugged awkwardly to a halt. Looking at the meeting of the elevator’s edge and the floor of the hallway, Dean noted a slight two-inch step up to exit the elevator. “Not bad,” the reverend said as she pulled the gate open. “Watch your step.”
Dean exited first and waited for Martha. “This way.” The minister indicated a direction to the left. When they reached the end of that hallway, she turned left again, stopping in front of a room with a nameplate screwed to the door reading “Peterson.” She knocked twice and listened.
“Come in,” came an almost immediate but weak reply.
Martha looked at Dean who was now a bit paler than when they’d left the office. “It’ll be okay, Dean. Just trust yourself to do the right thing.” Then she opened the door.
* * * * *