The taller one stared at Keegan with surprise for a second, then blurted, "Herr Keegan?"

Keegan reacted immediately. He kicked the tall one in the kneecap as hard as he could. The man howled with pain and fell to the floor. As he did, Keegan slashed his knee into the shorter one's groin, grabbed his collar and slammed his head into the wall. His forehead split open. Keegan slammed him into the wall one more time and as he fell, reached inside the man's coat and grabbed the grip of his gun.

Whirling on the taller one, Keegan stuck the Luger under his nose.

"You make a sound and I'll blow your brains all over that wall. You understand me? Verstehen?"

"Ja. " The German nodded, his face still distorted with pain.

"Auto keys, Schlssel? Where are they? Beeilen sie sich mal, beeilen!"

"I don't . . ."

Keegan jabbed the muzzle of the gun under the agent's chin, shoved his head back.

"You drove the car, you lying son of a bitch. Give me the keys or I'll kill you just for the hell of it."

The agent fumbled in a vest pocket and handed him the ring of keys.

"Take off the coat and hat. Beeilung!"

The agent struggled to one knee and took off the coat. Keegan snatched his hat off and put it on. He took the coat, leaned forward and slashed the pistol down on the back of the agent's head. The man sighed and fell unconscious.

Keegan put on the coat and stuck the gun in his pocket. He pulled the hat down low over his forehead, entered the lobby and, without looking to the right or left, walked straight to the entrance and out the door. He crossed the street, got in the Mercedes, cranked it up and drove off. He turned right at the first street, stepped on the gas and wove his way through traffic. In two blocks he turned right, drove another block, turned left and parked. He got out and threw the keys down a sewer trap. He walked to the corner and found a taxi.

"Tiergarten," he said as he got in.

The rain had settled into a fine mist. When Keegan got out of the taxi, he went into a store across the street from the zoo entrance. He waited until the taxi pulled away and rounded the corner, then he walked briskly across the street and entered the zoo. The carousel was in the middle of the park near the lake. The phone booth was beside the monkey cage across the walk from the merry-go-round.

Keegan stood with his hands in his pocket and waited for the phone to ring.

"Do not turn around, Ire, " a voice said behind him. "Listen quick. Ve haf learn Vierhaus is going to arrest you as a Spion. "

"I know. They came to the hotel after me."

"You are in serious trouble. Go to the rear of the carousel now. Iss a toolshed there. Go inside."

"Have you heard any more about Jen . . ."

"Beeilen!"

A young couple came by and stopped beside Keegan. They stood with their arms around each other, ignoring the rain, and threw peanuts to the monkeys. Not a care in the world, Keegan thought. Two days ago that could have been us. He waited until they moved on. When he turned around, there was nobody there.

He walked around the carousel, found the toolshed and went inside. It was a small utility room. A large worktable and chair took up most of the space. A bare bulb hung from a cord over the table. Cobwebs, like gossamer nets, dominated the corners.

Werner Gebhart was waiting. His cold eyes appraised Keegan as he entered the shack. Gebhart took a pair of cord knickers, a tweed cap, a sports shirt, a sleeveless sweater and heavy boots from a rucksack and put them on the worktable. He also produced a blond wig and a pair of glasses.

"Put on die Verkleidung, " Gebhart said in a rough mixture of English and German. "Beeilung."

"You're really prepared for emergencies aren't you?" Keegan said, quickly peeling off the coat and hat.

"Ve expected dis," Gebhart said coldly. "Whatever dey found out from Jenny, dey tink you can . . . how do you say . . . ?"

"Corroborate?"

"Ja. You should haf left last night."

"They're taking Jenny to Dachau," Keegan said.

"Heute Morgen ve heard. Das Unglck."

"Bad luck? That's all you have to say?"

"You change, Keegan," Gebhart said firmly. "Ve talk about dis later. Und ja, it is all I say."

"You don't like me, do you, Werner?" Keegan said, continuing to change as quickly as he could.

"Nein."

"Why not?" Keegan pressed him.

"Because you are playing the hero. You are reckless and arrogant, Ire."

"Okay," said Keegan. "If I get caught, you go down, too, so why don't you just tell me where to go and I'll get there on my own."

"Hren sie mal!" he said in a low, angry voice. "I am not doing this to help you, I am doing it to help us because you are poison to us all. Do not fool yourself, you vould not last ten minutes mittout us. You are . . . uh, gefdhrlich . . . dangerous . . . you play der hero und vill die and many of us vill die mit you."

"Nobody's gonna die."

"You see? Arrogant. People die every day."

"I tried to call Vierhaus all night," Keegan said, changing the subject. "He never returned the calls, sent the Gestapo instead."

"He is very, what you call schnell."

"Fast? Quick?"

"Ja. Und he has been at das Spiel three, four years," Gebhart said. "You are no match for him, Ire, no matter vat you tink. Dat vass a bad idea." He gathered up the clothes as Keegan took them off. "Vere did you get Mantel und Hut?"

Keegan took the Luger out of the coat pocket and handed it to Gebhart.

"Gestapo. Here, you might be able to use this."

"Vot happened?"

"I had to get by a couple of agents," Keegan said, pulling on the pants. "I didn't kill them, just gave them bad headaches. I also stole their car and left it on a side street."

"So . . . now the whole city iss out for you," Gebhart said. He pulled the wig down on Keegan's head, shoving his dark hair under the edges and smoothing it down around Keegan's ears and the nape of his neck. He gave Keegan an ID card listing his occupation as a postal worker. Smart. The Nazis avoided offending bureaucrats.

"If ve are stop, I vill talk. Ve are going on holiday to the Alps for mountain climbing."

"Okay."

"Now der Hut und, how you call them, die Brille?"

"Spectacles."

"Ja. The glass iss clear."

Keegan looked across the dimly lit room at Gebhart. "Well, how do I look?"

"Just remember, ve know vat ve are doing. Do as I tell you und do not argue. Do it quickly. Verstehen Sie?"

"Yes," Keegan nodded, "it's quite clear."

They walked out of the shed and around the lake to a parking lot, got in the blue Opel and drove through the middle of the city and across the main bridge into a Huserblock, a residential section. The shops and commercial buildings surrendered to duplexes, six or seven to the block; heavy Gothic buildings with large arched windows, thick, oak-framed doorways and gray stucco walls, six or seven houses all attached in a single long, gray block. Gebhart pulled behind one of the rows. An alley behind the granite square was lined with brightly painted garage doors. He pulled down to one of them and blew the horn. A minute went by, then the door rolled open. Gebhart pulled into the garage. The door closed behind. He waited for a minute or so in the dark, then turned on the car lights.

The garage was small and empty except for the car. Gebhart nodded toward a door that led into the house.

"Go through there," he said. "Viel Glck. I will not see you again."

He held out his hand and they shook.

"Thanks, Werner. Viel Glck to you too."

He entered the house and went up a short flight of stairs and through the sparsely furnished kitchen to the living room. Wolffson was alone there sitting on a large packing crate. There was no furniture except for a single floor lamp with a fringed shade. An ashtray filled with butts sat beside him.

"Welcome, Herr Keegan. Pick a box and sit down."

"Moving in or out?"

"In, actually. We travel light, Ire. Sometimes we have to leave everything behind. So, we have to kill some time. We will be here awhile."

"Mind telling me what's going on?"

"We have an excellent contact at SS headquarters. Early this morning, Vierhaus ordered your arrest. Specifically you are charged with espionage."

"Ludicrous."

"But true. And if they catch you, you are a dead man either way."

"The whole thing is insane. It doesn't even make good sense."

"That is right, it is insane. But it makes sense to them."

"So what's the plan?"

"We will leave at dark, drive to Munich. We know back roads where there is little traffic. It takes longer but we will be there before dawn. There will be three of us. You, me, and Joachim."

"Do I have any say in the matter?"

"What is your choice, Ire? Go to the American embassy? No way to get out once you are in, you could spend eternity there. If you remain in Berlin they will most certainly catch you and after your skirmish with the Gestapo they will most certainly kill you. Or go with us. We will have you out of Germany in forty-eight hours."

"Why Munich?"

"We have a strong organization in Munich and we need to spend the day there. Much safer to travel at night and it will take us two nights to get to the Swiss border."

"Ah, so we're going into Switzerland, then?"

"Yes. We have good friends there and we know the safe places to cross. If everything goes well, you will be a free man by day after tomorrow."

Keegan lit a cigarette and thought about the alternatives. Of course, Wolffson was right. Nothing could be gained by staying in Berlin.

"I keep thinking once I'm out of Germany I lose any hope of helping Jenny," he said finally.

"If she can be helped, I promise you we will do everything in our power to get her out," Wolffson said.

"How about escape?"

"Virtually impossible. We have tried three breakouts. All failed. Twelve people died."

Wolffson ground out a cigarette and went to the window, peering through the drapes and checking the street.

What a way to live, thought Keegan. Constantly on the run, never trusting anyone, knowing if you are caught some blond moron will cut off your head in the basement of Landsberg prison.

Finally Wolffson turned back to Keegan.

"What will you do when you get back to America?" he asked.

"I don't know," Keegan answered. "This has all happened so fast. I suppose try to wake people up to what's really happening. Maybe try to raise money for you. Try to do something to help."

"And what will you tell them they do not know already? People hear what they want to hear, Ire. And right now they do not want their conscience challenged. Much easier to ignore it."

"I have influential friends, Avrum. I may be able to do something."

"Politicians?" Wolffson shook his head. "They will not help you. They lean with the people and the people do not want to hear about our troubles. They have their own problems. Believe me, I know."

Wolffson stretched out on the floor with his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling. Several minutes passed in silence.

"There is only one way to impress anyone with the horror that already exists here," Wolffson said finally.

"What's that?" Keegan asked.

"See it yourself," Wolffson said. "Nobody can deny what you have seen with your own eyes."

Then he closed his eyes.

"We talk later. I need some sleep, it is a long drive."