Chapter 82: Chapter 82: Midnight Escape (Part 2)
The searchlight was like a giant eye, locked onto Eva.
She instinctively shielded her son in her arms as Little Hans’s cries grew louder. The air around them seemed to freeze, leaving only the child’s terrified wails and her own frantic heartbeat.
"Hands up! Now!"
Eva slowly raised one hand, the other clutching her son tightly.
Her legs trembled. Her backpack slipped from her shoulder, its contents spilling onto the ground—a few photographs, a jewelry box, and all her savings, wrapped in a handkerchief.
Footsteps drew nearer.
Through the blinding glare, Eva saw three soldiers with raised rifles closing in on her.
The one in the lead was a young man, barely in his twenties. The hand holding his rifle was trembling slightly.
"You... you were trying to defect?" The young soldier’s voice was strained. "Do you know what a crime that is?"
Eva opened her mouth, but no sound came out. Little Hans wailed even harder, his small hands clutching her collar.
"Marcus, cut the chatter!" an older soldier beside him urged. "Just take her back for interrogation!"
The young soldier, Marcus Stolz, stared at Eva and the child in her arms, his brow deeply furrowed.
The searchlight illuminated the woman’s face. She looked to be twenty-five or twenty-six, about the same age as his own sister. The child’s cries reminded him of his little nephew back home.
"Wait." Marcus hesitated, his gaze complicated as he looked at the crying child in Eva’s arms. "She has a child..."
"So what? An order is an order!"
Marcus gritted his teeth and took a step forward. "You’ll have to come with us."
Just then, lights began to flicker on in the surrounding windows. The commotion had awakened nearby residents, and people began to push open their windows, craning their necks to see.
"Let that woman go!" an old woman’s voice called from a second-floor window. "She just wants to see her family!"
"Get back inside! Close your windows! Don’t gawk!" the older soldier roared at the floors above.
But more windows opened. A crowd began to form, some people muttering amongst themselves, others cursing. A dangerous unrest filled the air.
Eva closed her eyes in despair. ’It’s over. It’s all over. I’ll be thrown in prison, Hans will be sent to an orphanage, and we’ll never make it to West Berlin...’
Marcus stepped forward, ready to grab Eva’s arm.
Just then, a calm male voice came from the darkness. "One moment, comrade."
All heads turned.
Werner Betelich emerged from the shadows of an alleyway.
His pace was measured, and he carried a dark brown briefcase.
He wore a crisp, dark gray suit. The collar of his white shirt was buttoned meticulously, and his leather shoes, polished to a mirror shine, reflected the searchlight’s beam.
Amid the chaos of the late night, he looked as if he had just stepped out of an important meeting.
"Who are you?" Marcus swung his rifle around, staring at him warily.
Werner didn’t answer. Instead, he walked straight up to the soldier, pulled an ID holder from his briefcase, and snapped it open.
"National Security Council, Special Operations." His voice was low and magnetic. "This woman is one of ours."
Marcus froze. He took the ID, using the searchlight’s beam to inspect it. Everything looked legitimate—hardcover, a clear official seal, and the photograph was a match.
But he was still hesitant. "But... she was clearly trying to cross the border... and with a child..."
"Do you think you’re entitled to all the operational details?" Werner cut him off, his tone turning to ice. "Comrade, are you aware of the consequences for questioning a mission of national security?"
The color drained from Marcus’s face. He looked from the ID to Werner, and his palms began to sweat.
The older soldier beside him leaned in for a look, his expression turning cautious. "Sir, we were just following orders..."
"I understand." Werner retracted the ID, his tone softening slightly. "But there’s a more important situation to deal with now. There’s a large-scale crossing attempt over on Bulnauer Street. You should be providing support there."
As if on cue, a frantic call crackled over the radio the moment he finished speaking: "Post Two! Post Two! Immediate support needed at Bulnauer Street! The line is being breached!"
Marcus and his companion exchanged a look, clearly torn.
Werner seized the opportunity, walking over to Eva and helping her to her feet. "Our operation has been aborted," he said naturally, "but it won’t affect the overall situation."
He turned to the soldiers, his voice carrying an undeniable air of command. "Two of you will remain. I’m taking her from here to proceed with the next phase. You will continue to guard this checkpoint. I will report what happened here to my superiors."
The older soldier considered for a few seconds before making a decision. "Marcus. You too, Friedrich. Stay here and continue the patrol. I’ll take the others for backup."
"Sir!" the two young soldiers snapped to attention.
The older soldier gave Werner one last look and lowered his voice. "Good luck with your operation, comrade." Then, he led the others, hurrying toward the sound of distant gunfire.
The searchlight remained on. Marcus and the other soldier, Friedrich, stood guard by the barbed wire, rifles at the ready, their eyes periodically sweeping over Werner and Eva.
Eva’s heart hammered in her chest.
’Now there are only two soldiers left, but they’re just standing there, watching me.’
’I could make a run for the barbed wire, but I know the second I move, they’ll shoot.’
Werner walked up to her, his voice stern. "What are you standing around for? The mission isn’t over."
He said it loudly, clearly for the benefit of the two soldiers.
Eva stared at him blankly, her mind in a fog.
Werner bent down to pick up the photos and necklace from the ground. He stuffed them back into her backpack, picked it up, and grabbed her arm. "Let’s go."
He pulled Eva along, walking quickly away from the border and deeper into the city.
Marcus and Friedrich watched them go, making no move to stop them. They simply remained at their post by the barbed wire.
Darkness fell around them once more.
Eva felt her legs were about to give out. She was trembling all over, whether from the cold or from shock, she couldn’t tell. Little Hans’s cries gradually subsided into whimpers.
"Keep walking," Werner said, his grip firm on her arm. "Don’t look back."
His hand was warm. His grip was firm but gentle—not enough to hurt, but unwavering.
Eva followed him mechanically, her mind a complete blank.
They cut through a narrow alley piled high with lumps of coal and old wooden planks. The air was thick with the smell of mildew and coal smoke.
Werner was clearly familiar with the area. He navigated every corner and every doorway without a moment’s hesitation.
Finally, they stopped in the stairwell of an old building.
