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Felix leant over and studied the maps spread out on Astrid’s bed. “I think you’re right. This is the weak spot.” His finger lay on a point between two villages. He flipped through faxed copies of surreptitiously taken photographs. “Look, this one. It’s taken from the Austrian side. See how close that Hungarian patrol vehicle is to the fence? I don’t care what the signs say, there’s no way they could mine that small section. The barbed wire is practically running alongside the edge of the tarmac. See this one taken from an angle.” He held it up to her. She nodded. “Yes, I’ve seen it. That’s why I said.”
He dropped it back down on the bed cover and stood up. “Sorry, I forgot you’ve been through all these before.” He ran his hand across his mouth. “If there are any landmines in that small section they have to be under the wire. Plus, to compensate, I think they’ll have pretty regular patrols going past it. Have we anything on that?”
She fished a folded sheet of paper from her shoulder bag and handed it to him. “Yes, but it’s somewhat unpredictable. It takes a vehicle ten to fifteen minutes to cover the ground from checkpoint to checkpoint but often they turn around in the villages so the time is less. As you can see, the foot patrols are fairly regular during daylight but seem to depend on who the commander is on the nightshift, suffice it to say there are more patrols in the dark hours.”
He read through the notes. “There’s two guard towers covering the ground between the border posts on the outskirts of the villages; using night vision equipment it would seem.”
She started to collect the paperwork back in. “Yes, but there’s still a tree line on the Austrian side right up to the border fence which means the guard tower on the far side hasn’t got a clear view of that section so the southern one is the only one with full eyes on at that point. There’s the lone tree on the Austrian side conveniently placed next to the narrowest stretch of road and wire which, I reckon, gives about six to eight feet maximum there that can’t be seen from any watchtower and let’s not forget the stream. It’s got to give a little bit of cover, there’s a slight drop from the road because you can see it from the picture of the patrol vehicle. The bloke looking back with the binos is at a lower elevation to their truck on the hard standing.
Felix looked through several high-resolution aerial photographs taken by a CIA spy plane. “That tree line on the Hungarian side is at least two hundred metres away and the open ground is still being farmed so that means no mines. There’s even this funny little strip sticking out into the fields that’s been left alone. Maybe it’s a tributary or drainage ditch leading to the stream that runs along the border. If it is then perhaps it connects up through a culvert under the road which could be big enough for a person to crawl through but you’d think they’d have it well protected, an iron grill or concertina wire and regularly checked by patrols.”
He passed them back to Astrid and she quickly flipped through them again. “They don’t really help with that but looking at the enlargements there doesn’t seem to be any obstacles in the ditch itself. It could be something our man could use to lie up in or get from the tree line to the road without being seen.”
Felix agreed. He expelled a sigh from one side of his mouth. “It’s not perfect but it’s as close as they’re going to get on this border. I’m glad it’s not our responsibility to get Radler through the wire.”
They discussed the checkpoint situation. There were the two they’d already spoken of but then moving south, there was a large one just before a town called Szentgotthard and, further on, there was the still guarded blocked off old road into Austria beyond another village. They agreed they needed to provide some activity at each one in the hope that it caught the attention of the Hungarian border guards and provided a distraction.
Felix thought it over. “We’ll need to get some additional help from the Embassy in Vienna, there’s too much ground to cover.” He gave her an enquiring look. “Why haven’t the Hungarians sorted that weak spot out before now?”
She gave him a little smile. “I’ve no idea but it seems the villagers are very happy with their lives and not at all keen on strangers and both villages are covered by a permit system, being right on the border. We’ve no record of anyone ever trying to cross there. Farms are being used all along the land right up to the border road connecting the two villages so I suppose the local commander feels they have additional eyes. From the most recent Intel, they have an upgraded reporting procedure, key individuals and farmers tapped into the reporting system.”
She checked her watch, touching his arm. “Come on, we’ve got to make a move, we’ve a flight to catch.”
In Vienna, Deacon and Gallagher were in the Kaffee Alt Wien admiring its eclectic poster decorated walls and waiting to meet Deek’s contact. They’d arrived early; Gallagher had the schnitzel, Deek the goulash. “So, this bloke’s in the Federal Gendarmerie?” Gally asked as he watched the attractive waitress walk away with their plates.
Deek gave a lopsided smile. “You just can’t help it can you?” He shook his head in mock sadness.
“I just appreciate the female form, that’s all.”
Deek continued, “Yeah, don’t we all. To answer your question, the Gendarmerie cover the whole country apart from the big cities. My guy’s name is Christoph and, jeez, what timing, here he is now.” He stood up, so Gally followed suit.
Introductions made, Christoph insisted on ordering three beers. They discussed their current predicament; knowing where someone was attempting to come over the fence but not knowing how they were actually going to be able to give them any assistance.
Christoph wiped his mouth and placed his glass on the table. “There is a group who will be more than willing to help you. I’ll call them ‘enthusiasts’. I had some dealings with them a few years ago and helped sort out one or two problems for them.” He took out a small notebook and scribbled something down, ripped the page out and handed it to Gally.
“Here, John, call this number. The guy at the end is called Matthias and don’t worry he speaks very good English. He will be able to help you, even with such late notice this is no problem to these people.”
They ordered more beer and the talk slipped effortlessly onto ‘wild’ nights Deek and Christoph had previously had. Their paths had crossed several times over the years and it seemed that on one occasion Christoph had saved Deek’s life. The Austrian played it down. “He tells this all time, John, but the truth is that when I shot the guy I didn’t even know it was this fellow here who was in the ditch, he was covered in so much shit.”
Gally left them, temporarily, to make a phone call to the office and when he came back he tapped the American on the shoulder and said, “Deek, finish that beer off, we have to go. He’s not just falling off their radar tomorrow, he’s going to try and get over the same day.”
Deacon waved his glass at him. “Take a seat, John, we’ve got three more on the way, can’t cancel them now.”
Gallagher complied, the yank asked, “Did London tell you that? How do they know?”
He shook his head, “No they didn’t and they don’t know, but they did give me further information about his wife and son. It seems the little lad was run over and killed six years ago and she hung herself three years later.”
He accepted his new glass from the waitress and when she’d left, carried on. “The date they both died was the tenth of this month. That’s tomorrow! From the train timetables, I assumed he’d hole up for the night and observe the patrol timings during daylight before making a break for it when it got dark. But this changes everything. We’ve lost a bloody day. It’s a significant date for him; he probably arranged this whole visiting programme around it.”
“Jeez, why couldn’t they have told you that before now?” Deacon necked his beer and picked up the new one.
“They didn’t know, Deek! They only found out because one of my colleagues took it upon himself to go through the East German papers kept centrally. Now, Radler’s family home was always in Leipzig, no matter where he was, so, checking specifically the Volkszeitung, the local Leipzig daily, and starting from the last date we officially had a mention of either of them in the intel reports, they eventually found both incidents reported.”
Christoph interrupted.”John, this is now a time problem for you. I’ll contact Matthias and make the arrangements” He looked at his watch. “A meeting early tomorrow morning is best, I think.”