Читаем A good German полностью

“And it’s guarded. You don’t just walk in.”

“So what do we do?”

“We don’t do anything. We let Shaeffer’s team handle it-they’re experts at this.”

“Experts at what?”

“Kidnapping. That’s what it will mean. The Russians aren’t going to hand him over-they probably won’t even admit they have him. So Shaeffer needs to figure out a way. He wanted to use you. Kind of a decoy.”

She looked down at the table, taking this in, then picked up the glass and finished her brandy.

“Yes, all right,” she said.

“All right what?”

“I’ll do it.”

“No, you won’t. People go to the Russians, they don’t always come back. I’m not taking that risk. This is a military operation, Lena.”

“We can’t leave him there. He came for me-he risked his life. I owe him this much.”

“You don’t owe him this.”

“But Russians-”

“I told you, I’ll talk to Shaeffer. If anybody can get him, he can. He wants him. He’s been waiting for this.”

“And you don’t, is that it? You don’t want him?”

“It’s not that simple.”

She reached over. “You can’t leave him there. Not with the Russians. I won’t.”

“A few weeks ago you thought he was dead.”

“But he’s not. So now it’s this. You were the detective, looking everywhere. So you found him. I thought that’s what you wanted.”

“It was.”

“But not now?”

“Not if it’s dangerous for you.”

“I’m not afraid of that. I want it to be over. What kind of life do you think it will be for us, knowing he’s there? With them. I want it to be over. Not this prison-you don’t even want me to leave the flat. Talk to your friend. Tell him I want to do it. I want to get him out.”

“So you can leave him? He won’t thank you for that.”

She lowered her head. “No, he won’t thank me for that. But he’ll be free.”

“And that’s the only reason?”

She looked over at him, then reached across, touching his face with her finger. “What a little boy you are. After everything that’s happened, to be jealous. Emil’s my family-it’s different, not the way it is with you. Don’t you know that?”

“I thought I did.”

“Thought. And then, like that, a schoolboy again. You remember Frau Hinkel?”

“Yes, two lines.”

“She said I had to choose. But I did. Even before the war. I chose you. How silly you are, not to know that.”

“I still don’t want you taking chances with Shaeffer.”

“Maybe that’s my choice too. Mine.”

He met her stare, then looked away. “Let me talk to him. Maybe he doesn’t need you anyway, now that we know where Emil is.”

“Then what?”

“Then we wait. We don’t go into the east. We don’t go to Burgstrasse. They’ll move him for sure if they think we know. And we don’t volunteer. Understand?”

“But you’ll tell me if they do want-”

He nodded, cutting her off, then snatched her hand. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Well, do you know something? Neither do I,” she said, making light of it, then rubbed his hand. “Not now.” She tilted her head, alert. “Was that him? Let me check.” She slid her hand away and hurried to the bedroom.

Jake sat watching her go, uneasy. Another bargain he shouldn’t have made. But nothing risky, whatever Shaeffer said. And then what? Three of them.

She came back into the room with her finger to her lips, half closing the door.

“He’s asleep, but restless. We’ll have to be quiet.”

“He’s going to stay in there?”

“We’ll move him later, when he’s really asleep.”

She came over to him and kissed his forehead, then began unbuttoning his shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I want to see you. Not the uniform.”

“Lena, we have to talk about this.”

“No, we’ve already talked. It’s decided. Now we’re going to pretend-the children are asleep, but there’s the couch, if we’re quiet. Let’s see how quiet we can be.”

“You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“Ssh.” She kissed him. “Not a sound.”

He smiled at her. “Wait till you hear the couch.”

“Then we’ll go slowly. It’s nice slow.”

She was right. The quiet itself became exciting, each touch furtive, as if the creak of a spring would give them away. When he slipped inside her, he moved so slowly that it seemed something only they knew, a secret between them, betrayed by the gasp of breath in his ear. Then the gentle rocking, an endless, sweet tease, until finally it ended as it began, the same rhythm, so that not even the shuddering disturbed the room around them. She kept him in her afterward, stroking his back, and for a few minutes he felt no difference between making love and simply being there, the one drifting into the other.

But the couch was cramped and awkward, its lumps poking into the usual forgetting, the unconsciousness of sex, and instead of drifting, his mind began to dart away. Had it been like this with them? Another couple using the couch so they wouldn’t wake their boy? Uncannily, as if he’d spoken, she reached up to touch his face.

“I chose you,” she said.

“Yes,” he said, kissing her, then withdrew and sat up next to her, restless. “Do you think he heard?”

She shook her head, dreamy. “Cover me. I just want to lie here for a minute. How can you get up?”

“I don’t know. Do you want a drink?” he said, going over to pour one.