The Slow March of Light by Heather B. Moore

Author:Heather B. Moore
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-08-12T21:47:03+00:00

Chapter twenty-two

“The government of the States of the Warsaw Pact appeal to the parliament and government of the GDR and suggest that they ensure that the subversion against the countries of the Socialist Bloc is effectively barred and a reliable guard is set up around the whole area of Berlin.”

—East German Radio Announcement, 1:11 a.m., Sunday, August 13, 1961

East Berlin

August 1961

Dear Gwen,

I hope Los Angeles is treating you well. I’ll start a new semester of classes soon at the University of Berlin, and I’m looking forward to it. This is a beautiful city, and the summer has been hot, but I’ve grown used to the heat. My German is coming along very well, and soon, I’ll have an accent when I speak English.

I miss you greatly, and I think of you whenever I eat in a café. I know you would find them charming. Tell me all your news. I’m looking forward to your next letter.

Much love,

Peter

Bob reread the letter, then, satisfied, he sealed the envelope. Gwen wasn’t real, of course, and perhaps Major Taggett would enjoy reading the letter. He carefully wrote the coordinates of a plotted target as the return address on the envelope. Writing the letter made Bob wonder how his family was doing. They were getting replies from a stand-in acting on Bob’s behalf, but did they suspect anything? And what if they sent important news that he wouldn’t hear about?

Bob knew that ignorance on his family’s part was best. Like Taggett had told him, no one could know his mission. And truthfully he didn’t want his parents to worry about his safety or to know that he was in danger every time he crossed into East Germany. But that didn’t stop his thoughts about his family and the fact that there was no way to contact them while he was on this assignment.

“Coffee or tea?” the waitress asked, hovering over his café table where he’d been writing the letter.

He glanced up. “Juice is fine, and I’ll have the sandwich. Plus two eclairs, wrapped up.”

She nodded and didn’t offer so much as a smile. It was the way of life in East Germany, it seemed. Few smiles, little laughter, heavy hearts.

Bob looked about the café. One thing he’d noticed in West and East Berlin alike is that the people were creatures of habit. Over the weeks and months, he’d haunted a few of the same places and he’d begun to recognize the usual patrons. These people sat in the same places at the same time of day.

This particular café was in the center of East Berlin and close to a neighborhood of houses. No one spoke to him, although he always felt that he was being observed. Bob knew that many East Germans worked for the Stasi, and even more were informers. It probably accounted for the grim faces, the careful conversations, the avoidance of strangers. Everyone was watching everyone. If only they knew he wasn’t a student at all. Not that anyone had asked.

Last night,

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