Between the lines

[Maka]

Chris giggled mischeviously. She sounded more relaxed and carefree than she had when Alice had first met her, responding to the detective's understated warmth and empathy, perhaps hinting at the girl she had been before the war.

"Jake's gonna kill me... It was over a woman, in a way, but not the way you might think. Jake had this friend visiting, some college buddy, a soldier who was a Senator's son. He wanted to... "

Chris made an obscene gesture. "Fuck every pussy in Berlin. Not a big problem, you know? There's no shortage of whores in Berlin these days, and when the Russians first came..."

Chris hesitated, her grip slackening on the steering wheel.

"That's when I started dressing like this, you know", she adds, more quietly. "It wasn't good to look like too much like a woman back then..."

It took her a moment to return to herself.

"Well, Jake's buddy got too enthusiastic in the English quarter one night and ended up hitting one of the girls. Calloway was on duty, took him in to military prison there and there. Jake didn't know Calloway back then, thought he could smooth things over like he does everyone else. He went to talk to him, told him about his friend's father, and how much he'd want his son to be let off... Calloway didn't care. I've never seen Jake so pissed off."

Chris shrugged, a sinuous movement of her slender shoulders.

"The fight happened in a bar, the next time they saw each other."

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice considered the German girl for a moment. “Damn yes, those days must have been…quite difficult. I have heard stories….isn’t it infuriating that the men start the wars, fuck them up, and then take it out on the women in the only way they know how?” The detective rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a battered-looking pack of cigarettes.

She pulled one out and extended it towards Chris. Had she experienced the full force of the occupants’ wrath? Her whole standoffish manner did make a lot more sense now. Alice had to keep herself from extending one hand to caress the German girl’s cheek. If she did need a protector, it would hardy get any better than Jake.

But Chris had already moved on and was smiling again. Alice sneered at the “mission” the senator’s prick son had wanted to complete whilst in Berlin. She also felt a ridiculous sting of disappointment that Jake would cater to such an obvious blunder. Had the soldier molested the girl, and Calloway had stepped in? Or were all of these peacocking boys simply too territorial to share the women in their sectors with their allies?

“So…what happened? Did they actually throw punches at each other in a bloody bar?” It did somehow sound like something Jake would do, at least like guise of the golden college boy she had met on the plane. How very pubescent. Alice put a cigarette between her lips and smiled at the thought. But Calloway? She lit the cigarette and inhaled deeply. He was more the type who would need a second for any kind of physical confrontation with an opponent.

“I would have never thought Calloway would be capable to knock out a man like Jake." She grinned at Chris. "But sounds to me like he deserved that one.”

 

[Maka]

Chris' full lips close around the cigarette and then form a steamy pout, exhaling a jet of smoke like a kiss.

"I wasn't there," she admits. "Much as I'd have liked to have seen it."

She giggles.

"Maybe we can arrange Round 2 while we're here, see if Jake can't get his revenge. I know he's just itching for another go at that English face."

She stops the car.

"Here we... oh no. I don't fucking believe this."

Zehlendorf Pension is an unremarkable location, relatively untouched by the bombings. The door to Number 10 is open, and Calloway leans in the entrance, his trenchcoat wrapped around his leanly muscular form, a cigarette on his lips. He raises an eyebrow, his expression impassive as he waits for Alice to get out of the car.

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice laughed at Chris’ comment. As far as she had been able to tell, Jake seemed very happy to keep out of Calloway’s way for a while, and for her own investigation it was certainly better if the two testosterone-fuelled antagonists would be able to restrain from throwing punches at each other.

She looked out the car window. Chris navigated the streets of Berlin with self-assurance and without hesitating even once. Alice was impressed. To her, the tangle of battered streets, ruins and half-standing buildings was one grey, sad mess. They drove groups of women who pulled bricks out of bombed-out houses, doubtlessly to use them again elsewhere. Quietly inhaling the smoke of her cigarette, Alice remembered Chris’ words again.

Then they arrived. Chris swerved the car to the side of the road with the reckless elegance Alice had started to grow used to. A faded sign announced the Pension “Seeblick”, though as far as Alice could tell, there was no view of anything close to a body of water from any of the simple pension’s windows.

She spotted the British officer at the same time as Chris.

Alice frowned. “Fuck me, what is he doing here?” She took a last drag from her cigarette before flicking it to the ground. Turning to Chris, she added: “Let me handle him. I am sure he isn’t here to cause trouble.”

With measured steps she approached Lieutenant Martin Calloway who looked at her levelly, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Good morning, Lieutenant.” Alice smiled without much warmth. “I did not expect to run into you again so soon.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “I would say that this is a nice coincidence, but I don’t really believe in coincidences.” Tilting her head, she motioned at the pension. “So tell me Calloway – are we looking for the same thing?”

 

[Maka]

Piercing grey eyes scanned Alice's face.

"Miss McGregor," Calloway said at last. "I see you haven't taken my advice and gone back to New York. I sincerely hope you won't regret that decision."

There was a crash of gears as Chris backed her little car out. Winking at Alice, she raised her middle finger to Calloway out of the car window as she drove away, at her usual breakneck speed. Calloway looked indifferent, instead considering Alice's question.

"Perhaps we are looking for the same thing, Miss McGregor. I don't know what you're looking for, or why you hope to find it in Berlin. In any case, you won't find anything in here."

With a curt courtesy, he motioned for Alice to pass him by into the pension.

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice wondered if his comment about her not having taken to heart his advice was meant as a warning or as a threat. What on earth did he mean? Why would anyone care about the whereabouts of the young composer, anyone but his own family? She frowned at him, but any reply was cut short by a loud crunch as Chris backed the car away from the curb, happily flipping off Calloway as she drove away. The detective had to bite her lip to stifle a grin, while also wondering how she would get back to the boarding house at Unter den Linden.

"Perhaps we are looking for the same thing, Miss McGregor. I don't know what you're looking for, or why you hope to find it in Berlin. In any case, you won't find anything in here."

Alice motioned to walk past him into the pension, but stopped in mid-step. What the hell? She did not care for such games. Her clients were anxiously waiting for news of their lost son, any news at all, and here she was exchanging quips with an arrogant English detective who apparently thought that girls like her should not put their noses into men’s business. Well, too bad for him.

She sighed. Looking almost bored, as if trying to explain an obvious fact to a rather thick person, she said calmly: “As you already know I am here to look for the Polish composer Jozef Berkowicz. His family received a letter not long ago, alleging that their son, until then believed to be dead, was renting a room in Berlin, in this pension.” Her dark eyes scanned his features for any hint of emotion, any clue. “I am here to find out if Berkowicz was or is lodging in Seeblick.” Alice attempted a polite, if unconvincing smile. “So the question is: Why are you here and how much do you know about the origin of this rumour?”

 

[Maka]

"The elusive Mr Berkowicz, yes," Calloway said. "We spoke of him last night. He seems very in demand these days. It seems a shame that more people weren't interested in his welfare before the hostilities ended."

Calloway appeared to have no intention of answering Alice's questions. Standing in the centre of the front room, he watched her with one eyebrow cocked in cynical amusement.

The thick, heavy furnishings of the front room were all covered in white sheets against dust. Nobody could have been living in this pension for weeks.

And then suddenly Calloway dived forward, bowling Alice over and bearing her down to the floor, hard, rigidly defined muscles pressing against her toned body, his face an inch from hers.

"Don't move, Miss McGregor."

A shot rang out, shattering the glass of the room's window. The bullet whistled audibly over their heads. Calloway did not flinch, or seem to react at all to the shot.

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice followed him with her eyes. “We? I presume you speak of Fräulein Junker and yourself?” She was annoyed. He was obviously set on not taking her seriously. But why the accusing tone? “Is that what you would like me to tell his distressed family, too?”

She looked around, distracted. The place seemed abandoned. Obviously nobody was staying here now, and probably had not been for quite a while. She looked at her notebook, trying to ignore his mocking gaze. The address was correct. The folded letter, by now slightly worn and the writing somewhat fading, clearly stated that a certain Mr Jozef Berkowicz was lodging in this very pension. It had been posted a month ago. Alice scanned the room again. None of this made any sense!

“There must be someone who runs this place, someone to…”

Before she could finish the sentence, Calloway had toppled her over onto the floor. “Good heavens, what the…” Suddenly a shot rang out, and pieces of the shattered window were flying through the room, raining down on both of them. Alice cried out in shock and surprise. “Shit!”

What was going on here? For a moment she lay perfectly still, waiting. She was aware of the rather intimate position they were both in, of how good he smelled. Chris’ earlier comment flashed through her mind. What was wrong with her? This was not a moment for lusty fantasies! Trying to wriggle out from underneath him, she said, indignant: “Jake told me that I should stay away from you, that quite a few people wanted you dead. Maybe I should heed his advice, Calloway?”

She fell silent. It suddenly dawned on her that the bullet had apparently been aimed not at the British detective, but at herself. He had run over to where she had stood. Alice stiffened in his grip. “Jesus…” she whispered, obviously terrified as the realisation hit her. “Whoever fired that shot was not after you…”

 

[Maka]

"No," said Calloway softly. His voice was as toneless as ever, but there was just possibly a hint of compassion buried under the ice, and his arms tightened around Alice's slender body. "They were after you. And perhaps you really don't know why."

He smiled grimly.

"We shall see."

He lifted his hat off his head and brought it, held tight between two fingers, to the level of the window, keeping his head down above Alice's face. A whining shot tore the hat out of his hand.

"Their sniper is keeping us covered. What I would do in this situation would be to keep us pinned down in the front room, while sending two men in the back."

There is a distant crash.

"The back door, I suspect," Calloway went on, coolly. "Do you carry a gun, Miss MacGregor?"

 

[Little_Zora]

„Perhaps? “, Alice protested. “Perhaps I don’t know why they are after me? What the hell is that supposed to mean, Calloway?” She lifted her head slightly. “And who are they?”

But as before, he ignored all of her questions, and Alice was still too shocked to insist. There would be time for answers later.

She watched as he slowly lifted his hat up to test if they were safe, holding her breath. As he approached window level, she unconsciously closed her eyes, tightly, hoping that the shot had been a single attempt, or better still, an accident.

The whining sound of another bullet brought her hopes to an end.

"Their sniper is keeping us covered. What I would do in this situation would be to keep us pinned down in the front room, while sending two men in the back."

Sniper? Outside an abandoned pension in the Berlin suburbs? Alice felt panic rising in her throat as a loud crash indicated that their attackers shared Calloway’s expertise and opinion.

"The back door, I suspect. Do you carry a gun, Miss MacGregor?"

Alice slowly shook her head. “No”, she whispered. “Not this time.” This was not supposed to be one of those assignments. “Not this bloody time.”

 

[Maka]

"You didn't bring a gun? But I thought Thornton... "

It was the first time that Calloway seemed even mildly surprised. His eyes narrowed as he looked down on the darkhaired girl in his arms. She was the kind of lithe, nubile armful that many men would have given anything to possess, even at the cost of the present desperate situation. Her dark eyes shone with a vivid, crackling intelligence, a life and hope even now.

Perhaps they influenced Calloway's decision. He spoke rapidly, while rolling over to get into a kneeling position.

"The men who are attacking us are likely Russians -I think the sniper is one of their Night Witches. I'm going to try and pin her and the other two down for a few moments with suppressing fire. Use that time to get to safety. The man you're looking for is in Prague but... "

Another shot drowned out his voice. Calloway reached out a hand to grasp Alice's slim shoulder.

"Don't trust Thornton."

 

[Little_Zora]

Panting, shaking, Alice sat in the back of a taxi. What had just happened? Her heart was still pounding like a hammer in her chest. Soviet snipers? Trying to kill her?

She barely remembered how she had made it out of that pension. When Calloway had taken on the two guys bursting through the back door, it had given her the smallest of moments to slip out and run. Alice closed her eyes and tried to breathe evenly. Fucking Calloway had saved her life, and she could not even be sure that he had survived his knightly endeavour. He’d better. Of all things Alice really did not fancy having to be grateful to the British prick detective, for anything really, and certainly not for something as major as that.

And yet.

Alice pondered what Calloway might have wanted to say when he warned her of Jake. He had clearly been surprised that she did not carry a gun, and somehow, he had been even more surprised because of… Jake? But why?

“But I thought Thornton... "

That he what?

That Thornton would have told her to bring one? Thornton would have warned her? That Thornton would have told her what she was getting herself into? What was it?

And what of his warning, just before she had managed to dart out of the back door? Don’t trust Thornton. What did he mean? Not trust him because he had not insisted she bring a gun? Because he was a shameless womaniser and she should beware? No, none of this made any sense. And Alice knew that Calloway hated the American hack. After what Chris had told her, Alice assumed that Calloway did not trust in Jake to make any sensible decisions. That was probably what he had meant.

She sat back in the cab. But with bullets flying and Soviet snipers trying to kill both of them, was her moral standing not a strange thing to worry about?

With shaking fingers Alice pulled another cigarette from her bag. Shit. She had not signed up for this. If she could find a post office, she would need to send a telegram to the composer’s family. Maybe they had omitted a few important details when sending her here.

When they arrived at the boarding house, Alice handed the driver a few notes and got out. Despite not having been gone for very long, it felt like ages since she left Jake that morning. He was probably still sleeping, nut Alice decided that it was time to wake up.

This time, she did not make it past the German landlady unseen, but Alice could really not be bothered to care, not about her raised eyebrows and her clearly disapproving stare that perfectly described what she thought of the American detective and her nightly activities.

Alice walked straight past her own room, almost running now. She had to see Jake. Breathless, she knocked on his door with urgency.

“Jake? Are you up? Jake, I really need to talk to you.”

 

[Maka]

Jake had always gotten a charge from B&E, whether professional or otherwise. As a scrawny, hungry kid back in New York, he'd sloped around the city, looking for open windows, unlatched doors. Sometimes he'd stolen, if there was cash or jewellery lying around, but more often, he just like finding the bedrooms of the women in the house. He liked to rummage through their panty drawers, smell their perfume, touch their things, imagine them getting undressed in the evening.

That thrill had come back to him as he'd carefully gone through Alice's possessions and looked at her clothes, imagining himself unpeeling that gorgeous toned body from skirt and shirt and underthings, imagining making her parade naked for him. It was the old, hungry beast in him.

But work was work and play was play. He had gone methodically through the leather notebook and file. It was as he'd suspected. He'd had to rule out the possibility that she was not what she seemed, that she'd been hired by another real player in the game, but he'd never thought it likely. No, he knew Alice MacGregor and her private notes confirmed it. She was looking for the real Berkowicz. Which meant she would continue being useful.

In his bed, Chris stirred and said some sleepy, half-heard words in German before turning over. She'd driven straight back from the Pension, panting for a morning fuck. Jake had become so aroused searching through Alice's things that he'd been more than ready, fucking the lithe blonde tomboy into whimpering, satisfied exhaustion. But all of the time, he had been thinking of Alice, of her pale skin, her rich brown curls and the deep, dark wells of her eyes, of how she had formed a perfect little 'o' with her lips as she had came.

And then there came a knock at the door, and Alice's urgent voice, as though the thought had summoned her. Jake frowned. Chris' presence wasn't ideal but there wasn't much that could be done about it. He threw open the door.

"Alice!"

The detective's delicate face was flushed and her hair was in disarray.

"Was he there?"

He'd better not have been. The Russians had made that address days ago. He was supposed to be somewhere in Prague by now.

"Alice?"

Chris had snaked one of Jake's shirts and had gotten out of bed to stand behind Jake, unconcerned about her semi-nudity and the ruffled, post-coital state of her close-cropped blonde hair.

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice wanted to throw herself into Jake’s arms as soon as his tousled head appeared in the doorway, his expression on of genuine worry. To hell with Calloway and his paranoid, moralist advise! Her lips parted to tell him as much as a second person came to stand next to the American hack, yawning and stretching lazily, like a cat.

Alice froze. Unbuttoned, the man’s shirt Chris was wearing revealed the swelling of her breasts and the dark triangle between her legs. The young detective briefly simply stared, dumbfounded.

“Chris? What the…” She looked from the yawning German girl to Jake. “You are here.” It was a rather obvious statement to make. Alice did not want to, and knew that she had no right to, either, but she could not help feeling disappointed, even betrayed. Had she been such a bore in bed that he needed to fuck another woman, only hours after he had had her? Chris looked comfortable, familiar. Seemed like her going steady with some lucky guy did not keep her from shopping around.

“No, he wasn’t there”, Alice finally hissed, overcoming her momentary confusion. “But he was the only one who wasn’t. It was a right merry get-together we had at the pension - Calloway, me, and a couple of Russian snipers that he called…night watchers…no, wait...he called them night witches!” Alice frowned, her arms crossed in front of her chest, trying to appear composed despite all evidence to the contrary. “What the hell are night witches? And why are the Russians interested in a Jewish composer? Why is anybody, except for his family and me, interested in him?” Her voice was rather shriller than she wanted it to be, but her nerves were gaining the upper hand on her.

“But I should be grateful that Calloway was there.” She looked at Jake, her expression accusative. “He saved my life today.” Somehow she was angry that it had been that arrogant Brit, and not him, the man who had fucked her senseless last night, who had been there to come to the rescue. “If he gets out of there alive, I owe him a debt.” She remembered how she had left him, his gun drawn, someone had screamed at him, something in Russian. Alice closed her eyes. Shit.

Then she focussed on Jake again, her lips pressed together to an angry, thin line. “He seemed to think that you’re not trustworthy, Jake Thornton.” Alice duly avoided even glancing at the German girl as she said this. “He pretty much told me to stay away from you.” The slender detective raised her eyebrows questioningly, but did not say anything else. This was not the time. It was probably too late, but Alice could not just pretend that she had not left Calloway to fend off at least three attackers all by himself. “But I think we should go and check on him? He needs help. Let me just get my gun from my room, I should have taken it…” She hesitated, and turned around to face them again. “We should check on him, right? No matter how much you despise each other, we cannot just leave him to be gunned down by these…these witches.”

She knew how absurd this would sound to Jake and Chris. Hell it sounded stupid even to herself. And what would they do, anyway? But not trying would have seemed like...like murder somehow.

 

[Maka]

Jake should have been feeling pleasantly spent. Just moments ago, he had been lying in the warm afterglow of a sexual marathon, an exhausted and very satisfied Chris curled up against his side, purring in her sleep. And yet Alice's appearance, Alice's live wire energy and alarm, were sending a powerful jolt of arousal through him. He wanted to take her there and then. He wanted her kneeling before him, submissively opening her mouth to lick and lap and suck at his cock like the meek little whore he'd turn her into.

He'd established that Chris was unaware of what had happened last night -that she still thought that the relationship between she and Jake was exclusive and based on real devotion. Chris had been a wary, tough alley-cat when he'd first met her. Her experiences in the war had made her that way. But Jake had feigned the gentleness and easy camaraderie that she was craving, and expertly supplemented that with just a hint of steel, of the superior officer or big brother giving orders -part of her wanted someone in charge. Chris had opened up like the petals of a flower. Now she was a purring house-cat, trusting Jake fully, and she was starting to bore him.

But even house-cats still had claws. Chris didn't know about last night, but she seemed to sense the sexual charge in the air between Jake and Alice. Her back stiffened and she laid a possessive hand on Jake's shoulder while stretching. The tails of his shirt rode up to give him a good look at her bare, slender legs, a transparent attempt to remind Jake of what he had while politely warning Alice off. But Jake wasn't worried. He could handle Chris.

With his mind so clouded by lust and need, it took a moment to register Alice's story. He took a moment to hope that Calloway really was dead. It would be one less irritation to deal with in Berlin.

"Night witches -Nachthexen. Female Russian aviators and snipers," said Jake. "A pretty psychotic lot. As for why they'd be interested in Berkowicz... they wouldn't be. But they'd be interested in Calloway. Because Calloway's an asshole, and he's made enemies in the Russian quarter. If you ask me, the Berkowicz connection is just a coincidence. They tailed you there, hoping for a shot at Calloway, and you just got caught up in the crossfire."

Chris nodded in support. Good girl.

"We can go there and try and help him if you like....", he should be dead by now, "But really, Alice, you don't owe him shit. He's the one who dragged you into shit he should have taken care of him by himself."

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice felt a sting of irritation as Chris immediately agreed with Jake. It felt meek, and submissive, and nothing like the feisty German tomboy she had talked to earlier. Realisation hit her with disarming suddenness. Oh, shit. Chris believed that Jake was her faithful lover. He was the man she thought she was going steady with. From his raised eyebrows and Chris’ frown Alice realised that she had actually cursed out loud. But this did not matter, at least not now. The last thing Alice felt the motivation to deal with were other people’s relationship problems.

“Well, that’s just it”, she said, her hands spread out before her in a gesture of impatience. “They were not after Calloway.” She looked at Jake now, as if searching for a sign, any sign, that he was lying, or that he knew more than he let on. “They were after me. They had aimed at me, and if it had not been for him, I would be as dead as a doornail now.” Alice felt the need to grab Jake’s shoulders and shake him out of his cool indifference, but Chris’ rather possessive pose kept her from it. “And besides, he knows something. If nothing else, Calloway knows where the man I am looking for is.”

Only now did she remember that one crucial piece of information Calloway had given her before she had made her exit from the besieged pension: “The man you're looking for is in Prague.” Berkowicz was in Prague? Alice was pretty certain that the info was solid. Nothing else would make sense. However, what had changed in the brief time between the snarky welcome he had given her and the moment she had left him to be killed by Russian snipers? What had prompted him to give away this one piece of intelligence?

“Even if he’s an asshole, and yes, I fully agree with you there, we cannot just leave him to die, can we?”

She paused. Another thought occurred to her. Now that she knew that Berkowicz was in Prague, maybe she should pack up and go there without looking back – since Berlin had started to look increasingly hostile. Granted, she would have to make it through the entire Soviet sector first, a train ride that would likely be rather unpleasant, but why risk her life and the success of her assignment now to run to the rescue of one arrogant Brit who was likely either dead or who could very well take care of himself?

It was a decision she needed to make very fast.

“Look. Calloway might have pissed off his fair share of Russians. But he knows something. He could help me.” Folding her arms in front of her chest, studiously avoiding the frown of the blonde German girl, she added: “After all, you cannot hold a grudge against him forever, only because he had the better punch once, right? Jake, I need to go back there, and I beg you not to let some silly bar fight keep you from walking into the arms to psychotic night witches all by myself.”

 

[Maka]

"What?"

Jake was suddenly tense, clenched like a fist.

"Calloway told you he knew where Berkowicz was?"

If Calloway knew, and the Russians took him alive, then they'd know very soon. Things had just gotten much more complicated. The first thing to do would be to try and save Calloway. Jake despised the man, and had often dreamed of setting a back-alley ambush for him himself, but he couldn't allow the Russians to take him -not if there was even the tiniest chance Calloway knew the truth.

Jake blinked, trying to retain the earnest, friendly facade. It still fooled Chris, to an extent -Alice he was not so sure of. Alice was dangerously sharp -and she had tempted him into revealing too much of the true beast last night.

"You're right, Alice. I should stop acting like a child."

He very pointedly did not look at Chris while he said this. She could have been Alice's only source for the bar-fight story, though her motivations were another story. She'd pay for that later. Chris hated thinking about that night. But at the moment it served his purpose well.

"We need to go get our boy Calloway."

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice breathed a visible sigh of relief. “Thanks, Jake.” Again she avoided looking at the German girl. “I owe you for this.” A cursory smile. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Chris was a girl who could hold her own, and if Jake and her would have to redraw the boundaries of their relationship, it was not Alice’s problem.

“I’ll get my gun. Wait for me in the car?”

***

On the way back to the Zehlendorf pension a tense silence hung over the three passengers in the car. Alice sat in the back, her eyes glued to the street outside.

When she had gone back to her room, Alice had registered with satisfaction that the door was still locked, twice, and that everything in it had seemed to be arranged in the same way that she had left it. And yet. Despite her young age and her relatively short experience as a detective Alice knew that her senses rarely betrayed her, and when she was standing in the middle of the small room, her bed in disarray, her clothes thrown over a chair, her suitcase in one corner and her files stacked where she had left them, she could sense that something was not quite right. But there was no time to look.

Now, in the car, she feeling that she was missing something, something fundamental, was getting more urgent. As if the discovery that Jake was fucking around on his German sidekick was only a distraction from something much more important. Alice decided that she would have to confront Jake about it. Maybe voicing her suspicions out loud would bring some kind of clarity.

Her heart was beating fast and hard in her chest. Back to the pension meant back into the arms of the Russians who had wanted her dead.

And what if they came too late? What if Calloway was already dead? Worse, what if she was now forcing her newly found companions, Jake and Chris, into serious danger as well? Alice watched the back of his head. It was hard to tell what was going on in his mind. Surely he was not happy that he was running to the rescue of a man he hated, but Alice was quite convinced that his concern for her was genuine. A good guy, Jake Thornton, after all. Chris would come around.

But why had she not told him about the suspected break-in? What was the strange, uneasy feeling she had about the comments Calloway had made earlier? Shit.

“Three.” Alice finally muttered, breaking the silence. “When I was there, there was one sniper, and two others came busting through the back door before I managed to get out. I am not sure if that was all of them though.”

 

[Maka]

The Volkswagen skidded to a halt outside the pension. Jake was already half-out, revolver in his hands.

"Be ready to go if we come out running," he told Chris. She just rolled her eyes. She was not happy about the obvious spark between himself and Alice. Stupid. He'd been sloppy and careless... but the slender, darkhaired detective had been irresistible. Jake was sure he could talk his way out of Chris' infuriating sulk, but he didn't want to. All he wanted to do was fuck Alice again -but harder this time. How much longer did he even need Chris?

None of the thoughts showed on his face. He looked at Alice.

"Stay behind me."

Inside, bullet-holes in the walls corroborated Alice's story. There were signs of a struggle in the front room -a chair had been knocked over and there was a splash of blood on the wainscoting. Calloway's blood, Jake could only hope.

"It looks like they took him alive."

Fuck.

"Where did he say Berkowicz was, Alice?"

 

[Little_Zora]

Tiptoeing into the room behind Jake, her gun raised and ready, Alice immediately realised that they were alone. Calloway and his attackers were gone. She was relieved not to walk in on a body, but her relief did not last long. If he was not here, and not still in the vicinity, where was he?

"It looks like they took him alive."

He was probably right. The blood spatter did not indicate death, or a body being dragged from this room. Why would they take Calloway alive anyway? To punish him? But what for? If Jake was right and he had pissed off a few Russians too many, would it not have made more sense for them to finish him off in an abandoned pension on the edge of the city? Why take the risk and kidnap a skilled military police officer if all he was to them was prey?

Alice rubbed the bridge of her nose with two fingers, her eyes closed, thinking. Fuck. This was supposed to be an assignment that did not involve kidnappings, bullet holes and blood stains on wood paneling. She had been on her fair share of rather adventurous quests, but Berlin and Berkowicz were a family affair. All his relatives back in the US wanted was certainty and possibly closure, if he was indeed dead. Why did she have the feeling that this was turning into a much bigger, much more political issue?

But her thoughts were interrupted by Jake’s question. She looked at him, frowning.

“Where…?”

Why would he ask her that? And ask her that now? Why would he ask her that if not to check if Calloway’s information matched his? But Jake was not supposed to know where Berkowicz was! He was supposed to be a nice guy and a hack, possibly thanks to a football scholarship back home. Again she remembered Calloway’s warning not to trust him. Alice stared at Jake, obviously troubled. But what choice did she have? If she wanted to go after the British detective, she could not do it alone. The answers to all of her questions would have to wait until later.

“Prague.” The confusion in her voice was palpable. “Calloway told me that the man I was looking for was in Prague.”

 

[Maka]

Alice looked troubled. That was something Jake was going to need take care of. His throat went dry with the desire at the thought of the ways he could distract her-the world he could lead her into. They could repeat last night again and again, trying out an infinite range of new positions, testing her willingness to submit to him...

If he wasn't careful, he was going to be the one ending up distracted. The Company's plan was rapidly going to shit. Thanks to Calloway, the asshole, the Russians would be on their way to Prague by now, and Alice was on the verge of learning everything. He'd have to come with her to Prague -tell her it sounded like the kind of story the folks back home wanted to hear.

What if Alice did learn the truth? Could he sell her on the idea of keeping quiet, maybe offer her Company hush money? He didn't think so. There was a sparkle in her dark eyes, a resolute upward tilt to her chin. As different as they were in most ways, she and Calloway were both idealists at heart -impossible to buy off, once they'd got the scent of corruption.

So he'd better try and keep her from the truth. Because Jake Thornton knew what the Company's orders in the event of a civilian learning about the operation.

Would he be able to kill Alice McGregor, if it came down to it -to destroy that beautiful face with a bullet, turn that warm, slender and pliant body cold and lifeless?

"Well," said Jake. "Looks like we're bound for Prague."

 

[Little_Zora]

Alice blinked.

„You…you want to come to Prague with me?“ It was probably a good idea. But why would he want to do that? His post was Berlin, his job and life – for now – was here. Did he feel that he needed to protect her? The uncomfortable, nagging feeling that he was keeping an eye on her for other reasons was hard to shake off. But what could it be? What interest could anyone have in the Polish composer? And besides – they only just met on the plane. Surely that had been a coincidence! But one way or another, they needed to have a serious conversation, one that did not involve her taking all clothes off for him again, though she had to admit that this was still a desire very much on her mind.

What would Chris say to all this? Alice had to admit that she did not really care.

“We’ll talk about that later,” she said finally, distracted by the stain of blood. “But what about Calloway? We still need to try and help him, don’t we? Find out what happened to him?”

She paused. It probably sounded quite ridiculous in his ears. What could they do? Go after the Russian snipers themselves? Going back to the pension had been stupid enough.

Slipping her revolver back in her leather bag, she nodded. “I’ll tell Chris to drive us to the nearest police station, or even better, to the nearest office of the British military police. They should know that something has happened to one of their own, they should take care of this. We should have done that in the first place, what was I thinking?”

Then she looked up at Jake again. “And before I leave to Prague I need to see Lieselotte Junker one more time. I think she knows more than she told me. Calloway thought so, too. Maybe she can tell me a little bit more about Prague, and why Berkowicz would be there…” She gave him a long, inquisitive look. “And then we’ll see about travelling together.”

 

[Maka]

The British police. Jake took a moment to think that through. He'd recieved assurances that Calloway's was a one-man crusade, that his superiors fully backed their American counterparts. They'd already been looking for an excuse to demote or transfer Calloway. Alice's report on Calloway's disappearance wouldn't get far before it met a wall of interference from on high.

"Of course you should go to the police," he told her. "I'm sure they'll be worried sick about their boy Calloway."

Lieselotte Junker? Jake didn't like Alice talking too much to her -she knew or suspected too much, and she'd gotten far too pally with Calloway. Nor would she yield to threats or bribes -she was made of tough stuff and money simply didn't interest her, not any more. It was going to have to be a bullet in the back of the head for the beautiful, fragile Fraulein Junker. That was a shame. He'd have loved to fuck that gorgeous, treacherous bitch just once, but it had to be done, and before Alice got a chance to talk to her again. She should be held up at the MP station long enough for Jake to arrange matters.

"And of course you should see Lieselotte. If you think she knows something... you're the detective!"

Oh yes. And Chris. Jake wanted to grind his teeth with frustration. He should have lived in an age where men could just take the women they wanted, where and how they pleased, and discard them when they were done. This constant fawning attention they required, this subordination of the male will... if he didn't still have a use for Chris, he'd have told her everything already. Told her that Alice McGregor was ten times the woman she was, and willing to do things for him in bed that Chris had never even imagined.

"Oh... and about Chris. I guess I should have told you earlier."

He flashed her with a mock-sheepish, slyly arrogant grin.

"Trust me, it's on its last legs. I'd already kind of ended it but Chris came around today and well... I'm but human, you know?"

 

[Little_Zora]

The drive to the MP station was uncomfortable. Chris sat next to her in sulky silence, and Alice was too preoccupied – or maybe too annoyed with Jake – to make an effort to approach her.

The German girl had her eyes on the road, a stubborn frown on her face. Alice almost felt sorry for her. It was clear that she cared for Jake. Maybe she even loved him. Only hours earlier she had told her that she was now going steady, probably a comment Chris probably regretted now.

Jake had not wanted to accompany her to the station – and Alice could not blame him. After his standoff with Calloway, the American hack had good reason to avoid British cops. And a bit of time without Jake did her good. Thinking about his last cocky comment, she got angry again. Only human! What a condescending, stupid thing to say! Where did he get off? And why on earth did he think that she would be interested in his fling with Chris in the first place? His sorry attempt at an apology, if one could call it that, was insulting. He could fuck all the women he wanted, for all she cared. Alice made a mental note to keep their relationship friendly, but professional from now on. Why did he have to be so damn irresistible? But no matter. It was time to concentrate on the real problems at hand.

She needed to find Calloway.

***
The police station was a large, grey stone building. A row of jeeps was lined up in front of it and officers in uniform hurried up and down the front stairs without paying her too much heed.

Chris did not move. Alice sighed. “I’ll be right back.” The German girl’s pouting would get very old, very soon.

She entered the station, and turned towards what looked like a front desk. The man behind it, a short, dark-haired officer, looked up at her with a friendly nod. “Can I help you, miss?”

“I want to report an attack on a British officer.” The short policeman looked at her with raised eyebrows.

Alice tried to explain, without too much detail, how she had run into detective at the pension in Zehlendorf, how they had chatted – she did want to say about what – and how suddenly they had been attacked by sniper fire.

“Zehlendorf?” He scratched his chin. “But that’s the Americans, isn’t it?”

Alice spread her hands in front of her impatiently. “Yes, that might be the case, but the officer, Lieutenant Martin Calloway, is British.” She paused. “And the assailants were very probably Russians.”

The policeman looked at her with a helpless smile. “Lieutenant Calloway, yes, well…that’s a serious matter. I will have to call my superior. That’s very serious.” He was obviously quite nervous now, aware of the urgency of the situation, but also very eager to do the right thing. “Would you like a cup of tea?” Alice shook her head. “No, please, you should really…” But her interlocutor had already turned on his heel to fetch someone with more authority.

He soon returned with a tall, imposing man who gave Alice a long, cool stare. She smiled nervously. He extended his hand to shake hers. His grip was firm, almost painful.

“I am Major Thomas Wiltshire. And you are Miss McGregor, I suppose?” His calm stare made Alice uncomfortable. It almost felt as if he had expected her here.

“I am. I guess you colleague has told you that – “

“Indeed. An unfortunate misunderstanding.”

Alice frowned. “Misunderstanding? Lieutenant Calloway was attacked, and probably kidnapped, how can that be a misunderstanding?” Her voice was shriller than she wanted it to be.

Major Wiltshire smiled patiently, and paused before he answered.

“Miss Mc Gregor, I assure you that we are handling the situation. There is nothing to worry about.” His tone was provocatively calm. “You don’t really believe that Russian agents would attack a British officer in the American sector, in broad daylight? Of course it is a misunderstanding, a mix-up, nothing more. Thank you for making the effort.”

Alice looked from him to the short officer who looked positively confused.

“I was there. And that is exactly what happened, major.”

He smiled coolly. “You have just arrived in Berlin, I understand? From…America?” The condescension in his voice was clear. “I don’t expect you to understand the nuances of international diplomacy, Miss McGregor.”

“So Lieutenant Calloway is safe? You know where he is?” She crossed her arms in front of her.

His lip curled. “Your concern for the lieutenant is admirable, but quite unnecessary. Have a good day.”

It was the last thing he said before he turned, and left, leaving Alice to her rage, and the mocking stares of British police officers around her.

 

[Maka]

Loew was a psychopath, there was no denying it. He'd been on the Western Front, supposedly killed more Russians than winter itself. Something had snapped in him out there, waiting so patiently for hours upon hours in the rat's nests of sacking he'd made for himself on perch after perch, in ruined tenements in Stalingrad, amidst the branches of trees on the long retreat back to Germany, in the last desperate days in Berlin itself.

It hadn't been easy for Jake to save Loew. He was one of the most infamous snipers in the Germany army -Stalin himself had put a price on his head. But a man like that was too useful to waste. Even his obsessions were useful. He hated Americans and Jews -as far as he was concerned, all Americans were Jews or led by Jews, but he hated Russians and Communists a million times more.

He always liked to meet in one of the Austrian cafes off the Unter den Linden, where he would gorge himself on sweet Viennese pastries, washed down with drinking chocolate, all at Jake's expense. Jake reflected, as he watched Loew fastidiously wipe the sugar from his lips, that he'd never known such a dangerous man look so physically unimposing. Doughy, balding -he even wore eye-glasses.

His hunger sated, Loew was inspecting the picture of Lieselotte Junker that Jake had slid him. He grunted.

"Mmm. Pretty. Good, firm tits. Didn't I see her in something, before the war?"

"Possibly."

"Ha. So. The American Jew wants me to kill a fine example of German womanhood. A woman like this wants fucking, not killing. Should be being pumped full of good German semen, children for the next war."

Jake restrained his anger. Better men than Loew had tried and failed to get at him, to rouse up the beast in him. No. The beast was reserved for Alice.

"You think? You know she's a Communist?"

Strictly speaking, she had been, and more recently been a Nazi's whore, but he doubted Loew cared in any case. The sniper grinned at him.

"Why didn't you say so? In that case, it will be my pleasure."

"Your business and your pleasure."

Loew would be getting an American visa as part payment for this job. Like Jake, the Company thought that a man with his talents and his hatred of Russia would be a valuable asset. Jake wondered dispassionately if the greasy little murderer would end up retiring to some Midwestern suburb, rearing a family of plump-cheeked German-Americans while keeping his Wehrmacht medals hidden in a chest under the settle. He was hardly the biggest rat fleeing the sinking ship that was the Third Reich, but Jake found it hard to contain his revulsion all the same.

Slapping money for the bill on the table, he walked outside without a further word. She didn't know it, but it was Alice McGregor's fault that he had to plunge his hands into this slime, that he had to arrange Lieselotte's death. And she would pay, in all kinds of creative, exotic ways, ways that made his even pulse suddenly run quicker and his cock stiffen.

He was already feeling better as he walked down the sunlit square.