The Sum of All Fears.pdf - Delta Force

intelligence agencies – but some things could not be faked, and he had to be
sure that he could trust Keitel to do terrible and dangerous things. It was an
objective necessity that this be graphic.
Another man looped a rope over a ceiling beam and hauled her hands up, then the
first pressed his pistol into her armpit and fired a single shot. At least he
wasn't a sadist, Bock thought. Such people were not reliable. It was quite sad
to watch in any case. The bullet had punctured her heart, but she was too
excited to die quickly, struggling for more than half a minute, eyes still wide,
fighting for breath, still trying to speak, probably begging for help, asking
why . . . After she went limp, one checked the pulse at her neck, then lowered
her slowly to the floor. They'd been as gentle about it as they could have been
under the circumstances. The shooter spoke without facing the camera.
'I hope you are satisfied. I did not enjoy this.'
'You weren't supposed to,' Bock said to the television set.
The Russian was taken off the chair and laid beside Traudl Fromm. While the
bodies were dismembered, Keitel's voice spoke. It was a useful diversion, as the
visual scene simply got more horrible. Bock was not squeamish about many things,
but it troubled his psyche when human bodies were abused after death. Necessary
or not, it seemed gratuitous to him.
'The Russian is undoubtedly an intelligence officer, as you have seen. His
automobile was a rental from Berlin, and is being driven tomorrow to Magdeburg,
where it will be turned in. It was parked down the street, normal procedure for
a professional, of course, but a give-away in the event of capture. In the car
we found a list of names, all of them in the DDR nuclear-power industry. It
would seem that our Russian comrades have suddenly become interested in
Honecker's bomb project. A pity we didn't have another few years to follow up on
that, no? I regret the complication involved, but it took us several days to set
up arrangements for disposing of the bodies, and we had no idea Frau Fromm had
her "guest" when we knocked on the door. At that point, of course, it was too
late. Besides, with the rain we had ideal conditions for the kidnapping.' Two
men were working on each body. All wore the protective suits, and now they had
their hoods and masks on, doubtless to protect them from the smell as much as to
protect their identity. As in a slaughterhouse, sawdust was applied in
bucketfuls to soak up the copious amounts of blood being spilled. Bock knew from
experience just how messy murders could be. They worked quickly as Keitel's
voice-over went on, using powered industrial cutting tools. Arms and legs had
been removed from the torsos, and then the heads were removed and held up to the
camera. No one could fake this. Keitel's men had truly murdered two human
beings. The dismemberment in front of a playing television made that absolutely
certain, and would doubtless also make disposal easier. The pieces were
assembled neatly for wrapping in plastic. One of the men started brushing the
blood-soaked sawdust into a pile for yet another plastic bag.
'The body parts will be burned at two widely separated locations. This will be
accomplished long before you get the tape. That ends our message. We await
further instructions.' And the tape returned to the dramatization of the 1920
Olympics – or was it 1924? Bock wondered. Not that it mattered, of course.
***