Quiller KGB (q-1) by ADAM HALL

Author:ADAM HALL [HALL, ADAM]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: det_espionage

It was past ten o'clock when they tried again.

Earlier, I was hungry, and had some potato soup in a place in Baum-Schulenweg further down the river. Earlier, I was cold and afraid, and went into a library for warmth, to experience the feeling of air that didn't paralyse the face, and to experience the atmosphere of the social norm, wherein ordinary people sat reading books or the papers, instead of seeing a movie, or instead of walking the streets from shadow to shadow, cold and afraid.

By ten o'clock I'd gone from Treptower Park to Konigsheide and north again to Baum-Schulenweg, waiting for twenty minutes in a U-bahnhof and checking my watch, making it seem that I was so desperate for the rendezvous that I was taking risks, making three phone calls and speaking the correct lines from the scenario because an efficiently-trained tag is taught to lip-read.

I still can't throw them off, so forth, I'll make contact when I can.

And now I was in a crowd outside a bowling-alley, huddling among the people for warmth and company and the chance of a close encounter that could give me what I wanted: information.

'I don't know,' I said. 'I think there's room for fifty but they're short of bowls.'

'Well, I'm not surprised. They're always short of something.' A man in a leather jacket ripped at the shoulder, his hands dug into his pockets to keep them warm.

'They should either let us in or tell us how long we've got to wait.' A thin girl half-buried in her boyfriend's arms, her nose raw from rubbing with a handkerchief.

Another bus stopped and people got off, some of them joining us, blowing into their hands, jogging up and down on the cold pavement.

'Can't get in?'

'They said they're short of equipment.'

'Then why don't they — '

I didn't hear any more because someone had moved against me and I brought an elbow down on that side and paralysed his wrist but the knife had already gone in and I could feel the warmth oozing under my clothes. Minimal pain because the shock had brought the endorphins flooding to the site.

I hadn't expected a knife in a crowd because it'd be difficult for anyone to get clear but he'd taken the chance and we were still close together — he was in a half-crouch because of the pain in the smashed wrist-bone and the knife was on the ground. He came up at me and I'd been waiting for it and I dropped him with a jab to the carotid nerve and he sank down again with his knees folding and I began easing my way out because there was no chance of getting him away for questioning — the others would be too close.

'What are you — '

'Pickpocket — he's a — '

'Is it a heart attack?'

'Tried to pick my pocket!'

'I think he's ill — '

'I'll get an ambulance — '

'Look, there's a knife — '

Everyone fussing and it kept them busy and I got to the

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