Chapter 182: Chapter 92: Crossing the Border
The two of them got out of the car. Werner opened the back door and lifted the rear seat.
Beneath the seat was a movable floor panel. A narrow space had been carved out, just large enough to fit a thin adult.
"Get in."
Lucas handed the canvas bag to Werner, then turned sideways and squeezed into the compartment.
He first pulled his legs in, then bent over, curling himself into a ball.
Werner replaced the floor panel and lowered the seat. From the outside, nothing looked out of the ordinary.
"Can you breathe?" Werner knocked on the seat.
"I can... It’s a little stuffy." Lucas’s muffled voice came from below. "But I’ll be fine."
"Remember, no matter what happens, don’t make a sound," Werner said, getting back into the driver’s seat. "Even if they start banging on the seat with their billy clubs, you have to take it."
"I understand."
Werner restarted the engine and continued toward the Friedrichstrasse checkpoint.
*******************
At four o’clock sharp, Werner’s car arrived at the checkpoint.
At this hour, there weren’t many cars waiting—only three or four. Werner was second in line, right behind a milk truck. He lit a cigarette, gazing at the checkpoint’s guardhouse through his window.
Matthias, dressed in a Border Guard uniform, was standing by the guardhouse, talking to another soldier. When he saw Werner’s car, he shot a discreet glance in its direction before turning and walking into the checkpoint office.
The milk truck finished its inspection and drove off. It was Werner’s turn.
A young soldier walked over and tapped on the window. "Permit."
Werner handed over the temporary permit from the Ministry of Foreign Trade. "Procuring machine parts. I was here last week for the same thing."
The soldier took the permit and examined it carefully. "What’s in the back seat?"
"My tool bag," Werner said, gesturing to a canvas bag on the back seat. "And some blueprints."
The soldier moved to the rear of the car, opened the back door, and picked up the canvas bag, rummaging through it. Inside were a few wrenches, screwdrivers, and several rolled-up blueprints. He put the bag back, then shone his flashlight under the seat.
Werner’s heart was in his throat.
The beam of the soldier’s flashlight rested on the underside of the seat for a few seconds, then moved on.
He shut the car door and walked around to the driver’s side. "Pop the hood."
Werner hit the release, and the hood popped open. The soldier inspected the engine bay, then crouched down to look at the undercarriage.
Just then, the door to the checkpoint office swung open.
A middle-aged man in a field-grade officer’s uniform emerged, with Matthias following behind him.
The officer had a mustache and a stern face. He walked with his chest puffed out, carrying himself with the distinct air of a superior on inspection.
"How are the inspections proceeding today?" the officer asked as he walked up to the post, his gaze sweeping over the line of cars.
"Reporting, Colonel, everything is normal." The young soldier immediately snapped to attention and saluted.
"Normal?" The colonel scoffed. "I’m not so sure." He pointed at Werner’s car. "Have you inspected this vehicle?"
"I have, Colonel. The permit is in order, and there’s no contraband in the vehicle."
"Are you certain?" The colonel walked to the front of the car, bent over, and peered at Werner through the window. "A procurement agent for the Ministry of Foreign Trade? Twice in one week?"
Werner gave a steady nod. "Yes, Colonel. The order is urgent. It requires multiple trips."
The colonel stared at him for a few seconds, then turned to the soldier. "Did you inspect the rear seat?"
"I did, Colonel. There was only a tool bag."
"I’m not talking about the tool bag." The colonel strode to the rear door and pulled it open. "I’m talking about the seat itself." He rapped his knuckles on the seat back, producing a dull THUD.
Werner’s palms began to sweat.
The colonel knocked a few more times, his brow furrowed. "This doesn’t sound right." He turned to Matthias. "Matthias, what do you think?"
Matthias came over and knocked on the seat as well. "It’s probably just an old seat, Colonel. The rear seats in these Yifa L60s have wooden frames. They get loose over time."
"Is that so?" The colonel seemed unconvinced. "Then lift the seat. Let’s have a look."
Werner felt like his heart was about to pound out of his chest.
He forced himself to remain calm and proactively got out of the car. "Colonel, if you suspect I’m hiding something, feel free to inspect it thoroughly. I’m conducting legitimate business. I have nothing to hide."
The colonel glanced at him without a word and bent down, preparing to lift the seat.
At that very moment, the phone in the checkpoint office rang.
The sound was piercing in the early morning stillness. A soldier poked his head out of the office. "Colonel, headquarters is on the line."
The colonel paused and straightened up. "What is it?"
"They said it’s an emergency. You need to take the call at once."
The colonel hesitated, glancing at Werner’s car and then at his watch. "Forget it." He waved a hand at Matthias. "You continue the inspection. I’ll get the phone."
Matthias saluted. "Yes, Colonel."
The colonel strode quickly toward the office.
After the colonel had gone inside, Matthias turned to the young soldier. "Go take a look at that truck up ahead. I just noticed a problem with its cargo tarp."
"But, Lieutenant..."
"Go!" Matthias’s voice carried an authority that tolerated no argument.
The young soldier saluted, turned, and ran toward the truck up ahead.
Matthias walked to the rear of the car, feigning an inspection of the seat.
He moved quickly, just giving the edge of the seat a token touch before closing the door.
"All clear," he said in a low voice. "Go. Now."
Werner nodded and slid back into the driver’s seat.
Matthias handed him the permit and waved toward the barrier gate. The gate slowly lifted.
Werner stepped on the accelerator, and the car drove through the checkpoint.
In the rearview mirror, the colonel was walking out of the office. He glanced in their direction, but the car was already twenty meters down the road.
***************
After crossing into West Berlin, Werner didn’t stop right away. He drove on for another ten minutes, making sure he wasn’t being followed, before finally pulling over on a secluded street.
"All clear. Come on out." He lifted the rear seat.
Lucas crawled out of the compartment, his entire body trembling.
His face was flushed red from the lack of air, his forehead was drenched in sweat, and his glasses sat crookedly on his nose.
"I... I thought we were..." he panted, unable to finish the sentence.
"You did great," Werner said, handing him a bottle of water. "Didn’t make a peep."
Lucas took the water and gulped down more than half the bottle.
He leaned back against the seat with his eyes closed, taking a long moment to compose himself.
"That colonel..."
"We got lucky," Werner said, lighting a cigarette. "If that call had come ten seconds later, we would’ve both been finished."
Lucas shuddered and took another drink of water.
Werner started the engine again and drove toward the Charlottenburg District.
At five-thirty, the sky was just beginning to pale with the first light of dawn, and early-rising pedestrians already dotted the streets.
The car stopped in front of the bookstore. Reynard was already there waiting, a cup of hot coffee in his hand. He looked as if he hadn’t slept all night.
"You made it?" he asked, breathing a sigh of relief as he saw Lucas get out of the car.
"We made it," Werner said.
Reynard walked over and shook Lucas’s hand. "Welcome to the free world, Mr. Baker. Your book is already being typeset. The editor said it’s the best manuscript he’s read all year."
Lucas stood there in a daze, watching the pedestrians come and go, gazing at the bright storefronts and the walls, free of slogans and propaganda posters. His eyes slowly began to brim with tears.
"I... Am I really out?"
"You’re out," Reynard said, patting him on the shoulder. "Come with me. I’ve already arranged a place for you. You need to get some proper rest, and then we can talk about publishing."
Lucas turned to Werner, opening his mouth, but no words came out.
"Don’t thank me." Werner stubbed out his cigarette. "Just go write more books. Let more people know what’s happening on the other side of that wall."
Lucas nodded emphatically.
Reynard put an arm around his shoulder, guiding him toward a sedan parked by the curb.
After taking a few steps, Reynard suddenly turned back.
"Werner, wait a second."
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