The Decoding Office.

The temporary transfer from a respectable military position to a management role in Internal Security (the consequence and penalty of being a good organiser) had left Colonel Feiss sick at heart. Within two weeks he had suggested he should exchange his uniform for a suit since his duties brought him into contact with civilians, all the better, he'd said, to put them off their guard.

General Patek had said, 'Why not. Sounds sensible to me'.

Feiss's real reason was a wish not to sully a uniform of which he was proud. Internal Security was nothing to be proud of. But as a consequence of his loss of self-respect he'd become an angry man, angry at zips, food packaging, shoe laces, almost anything that was manufactured so poorly by the badly run State industries. Right now he was at his perfect 1930's handsome desk, strangely preserved through invasions, bombings, requisitions by Nazis and Russians. He was recovering from an embarrassing session in the toilet where the struggle to unpick the first sheets of a brand-new State toilet roll had left the floor covered in a snowfall of torn pieces.

Colonel Feiss was tired. A threat, the possibility of the the assassination of his superior, General Patek, had put the department into an early morning drive to decode an interception that was believed to carry the time, date and place of the attempt. 'Look at this, Feiss', Patek had said, words coming flecked with spittle from a heavy red face, 'An anonymous note put under the door of that, that, my lady friend, addressed to me. Look. A warning!'.

Feiss took the small piece of paper and read, 'Patek, your days are numbered. We are arranging your assassination'.

Patek said, 'And this from one of our trawls of e-mails to someone at the University. Our mole is sure it is the time and place of an attempt. He understood it to be the day and time and place for a pot-shot'. Patek unbuttoned the tight collar of his blue uniform. He handed Feiss a second page and said, 'In code, Feiss, as you can see, apart from my name, there, so clearly in large letters in order to make me worried. Bastards! Shits! Won't be a quick death when I catch the bastards, Feiss, believe me'. He stomped about his large room and went to the window to glare at the grey populace in the grey city. Suddenly he ducked down and ran crouching for the few steps it took to put himself in the protection of the wall. 'Didn't think, Feiss! Christ Almighty, they could've taken a pot-shot! It's got me so bloody jumpy. Didn't think'. Patek flung himself into the large wooden seat on rollers. 'Feiss, get your code-breakers onto it. Straight away, Feiss. Call the buggers in now. Get them started'.

It was 5pm and Feiss had been at his desk cajoling the team since 5am. Not that the manic Oscar needed any encouragement. Feiss thought there must be two hundred or more citizens of the State wanting to pull the trigger, press the button, pop the cyanide into Patek's drink.

He had called in the three people who were off-duty. Of these Leo was by far the most clever. He had also agreed to speak to Leo during the day about his future prospects though these would be few and he suspected that Leo would be asking for a return to External Security. Who could blame him?

Oscar's team had worked themselves almost to a standstill. Oscar, whose bulging eyes and vertical ginger hair made him look as if he was in a state of perpetual electrocution, had said that it was just one of those many hoaxes designed to annoy and waste time. There was no discernible pattern, no formula, no mathmatical equation lurking in the sheet of the 'words' that were a mix of numbers and letters. Oscar had said it was all nonsense, all gobbledegook. The computers had raced through complex permutations so far without success.

Colonel Feiss had given a print of the message to Leo the moment he had arrived to wait for one of the big computers to become free. Leo thought in serpentine ways and had apparently been a great success in External. Now that Russia seemed to be ebbing towards its inevitable release of power together with the edgy events in Poland there were definite signs of a change in the emphasis on security matters. The chance of the Democratic State actually becoming democratic had set fears running through the insane Internal Security Service. One in three citzens spied on its neighbour with the result that files were overloaded with information that was mostly fiction, usually obsolete, quite erroneous or utterly confusing. There would be terrible scores by the dozen to settle if the Democratic State were to become truly democratic.

Now would be a good time to get Leo's meeting over and done with.

Leo saw within Feiss's weary face an attempt with eyes and a small smile to signal compassion for someone who would have to be disappointed. Feiss saw a youthful-looking, fat faced Leo in a suit and tie and with his hair parted and plastered in an old-fashioned way. He was reminded that Leo had never aped the casual style of the West, was never seen in jeans and a leather jacket over a T-shirt, didn't wear the hoodlum's dark glasses. Fleiss thought that Leo in such fashion would look ridiculous.

'Leo, come in. Excuse the timing of this but you know the pressure. All hands on deck, Leo, with much in the balance. Not to speak of the Department's future, your's and mine, Leo! So perhaps you'll appreciate the subject of your career prospects can't be high on my personal agenda. But a coffee, Leo? It's only our State-made Instant Coffee, Leo, and who knows what it's made from but it tastes almost like coffee. We've all had to get used to it'.

'Thank you, Sir, yes. A coffee makes the discussion less formal, I think. Which is what I'd hoped for, Sir'. He sat before Weiss's desk with hands between his knees and eyes fixed around the top button of Feiss's jacket. Blue eyes in a round pink face with a dark shadow despite the sharp razor.

'Black? Sugar? Sugar makes it bearable. And we are all tired, Leo. Thank you for coming in on your day off. Silly thing to say, that, Leo, when you couldn't refuse, but. How is Oscar getting on? We must hope the computer wizard comes up trumps. And soon, of course. How can one page be so impossible to unravel, Leo? Oscar says it looks like deliberate nonsense, one of the usual ploys to annoy us and waste our time. But we can't take chances. Supposing it really is something to do with a plan to assassinate General Patek and we tell him it is a red-herring, a nonsense of a message like all the other gobbledegook junk? Consequences, Leo. So much hanging on our success. So, what about your career? The Department thinks highly of your talent, Leo, be assured'.

Feiss saw Leo's lips pinch and saw the big blue eyes rise and fix unwaveringly, disconcertingly into his. Leo said, 'My career is not so important, Sir. But a question, and at some risk, I know, but is our conversation being recorded? I know all our conversations should be recorded. What I have to say about my career is confidential, Sir. Between me and you only, I hope'.

Weiss thought for a long minute at this.'Explain, Leo, and think carefully'.

'Sir, I am taking a chance. And the answer to my question? Because in the year I've been here I have been picking up clues as to your thinking. Not easy in this duplicitive world of ours, Sir. I think you have certain views regarding the correct path of our activities. So, the answer to my question, Sir?'

'Well now, I didn't think Career Prospects needed recording, Leo. And anyway I'm not sure my machine is working properly. I wiped a whole hour off the last recording by accident. It could be malfunctioning'.

'Thank you, Sir. I will be frank. You should know I resent the intrusion on our work by the Minister. The jokes by Bene were only the usual stuff of cafe life and dinner tables. The Minister is, of course, corrupt and ignorant, a perfect Party Member and easily, deservedly lampooned. General Patek was currying favour by hauling Bene out of this department. Bene is probably now cleaning public toilets. General Patek is a sadistic bully. He doesn't know how to run his Office. He relies on torture and intimidation. He seeks to personally benefit from any situation. He should be sweating now, Sir, for if we fail one might point to the loss of Bene, a valuable member of the Department, as the reason for our failure. You will wish to know that I think General Patek is a foul shit, Sir, an opinion which I suspect is also yours'.

'I'm thinking, Leo'.

'By-the-way, Sir. I have solved the problem of the page, of the time, date and venue'.

'Leo, more coffee?'

'Please, Sir. And by-the-way, I saw you at early morning Mass at the Cathedral last Sunday. I think the new choirmaster is doing a wonderful job, don't you? About time we had some contemporary material to show we are more or less up with the modern world. And the Archbishop was unusually brave in his sermon, albeit much too mildly so. As is usual, I regret. Not before time, of course. Encouraged by events in Poland, I suppose, and seeing a need to gingerly claim a place on a possible band-wagon. Oh, and guess who I bumped into later that day, Sir? Olga. Looking not too bad, I thought'.

Feiss sat very still and he knew his face was expressionless, stoney. 'Leo, should I not switch on the recorder? Are you working independently for Patek? One in three, Leo'.

Leo's hands were raised flat palmed. 'Sir, with no recording you can deny anything and everything. I am the one taking the risk. We are on the same side, I believe. You will want to know Olga is okay, that her finger nails are almost back to normal. I thought you would wish to know that. She seemed startled and unsure how to respond to me. And, as I said, I have solved the message: it gives a time, a date and a place'.

Weiss sat staring and thinking. Finally he said, 'You are inviting two very different matters to be followed here, Leo. Three if I count your future'. He looked at his hands and saw that they were trembling noticeably. He folded them under his arms and looked into the blue eyes. He said, 'Leo, how can you have solved the problem? You arrived an hour ago, you haven't yet had a code machine to work on. You've looked at the page for an hour with only a pencil for an aid; Oscar and the team have been burning up the computers since six this morning. Explain, Leo'.

Again there was that pursing of the lips. Feiss ran his eyes over the pink cheeks and that shadow of a well razored skin.

'Sir, computers can be a handicap. Just sitting down and circling round a situation can show the path to unravelling an apparently complex problem. Citizen X, whoever he is, is a clever operator but, I reasoned, how can he have the means and the experience and the time to construct a difficult if not unbreakable code? Unlikely, I reasoned. He certainly won't have our software. He is an Academic according to General Patek's note attached here, and the others in his circle are writers, musicians, there's even a ballet dancer, Sir. Citizen X and all the recipients of the e-mail or letter will have no skills in creating or decyphering codes. We know he has to send a time and a day and a venue, that's all, nothing more, and there is a simple convention to giving time and date, a familiar order for these things'.

'Remind me, Leo'.

'Sir, simply, for example: 12.20hrs and, say, nineteenth of February, which would be 19.02. Two sets of four numbers'.

Leo turned his sheet of paper round for Feiss to look at. He said, I looked at this page seeing the name General Patek, the only words in open text. The rest of the 'words' are, as you see, combinations of letters and numbers. I wondered thus, Sir: if the message it contained was in code why isn't Patek's name encoded too? So, I thought, perhaps there's no code to unravel, nothing whatsoever to decode. Small wonder that Oscar and the team think it is another irritating and time wasting piece of nonsense. There is no coded message here, merely a way of seeing the information. By-the-way, Sir, the cigarette burns on Olga's wrists are less obvious though they have some way to go. I thought you would wish to know that. I was not offered the opportunity to see how the marks on her breasts were getting on'.

Feiss sat and said nothing.

Leo continued. 'So, what would I do to hide the information if I were Citizen X? I'd make up a page of 'words' constructed by letters and numbers exactly as he has done here and, yes, all gobbledegook to confound the State except that I would lodge the vital information alongside this nonsense, there for all to read, nothing hidden. What a tease, Sir! You and I and a child of ten can read the information once we are told how to look for it. No mathmatical equation, no formula, no computer required. And what are we looking for, Sir? Numbers not words, only numbers. Simply a time, a date and a place. In that usual order, I presumed'.

Feiss stared at Leo's fluttering fingers and waited.

'See here, Sir: the first word is ZX379Q. But 379 has no meaning in our accepted abbreviations of time and date so this we ignore. We can ignore 379 and any other single number, three numbers or a group of five. Only four consecutive numbers mean anything, the other numbers and letters are meant only to confuse. So, here on line six comes AABF1193W and since we have only sixty minutes in the hour rather than ninety-three we can ignore this, too, but here on the next line is Z45ZOM0945NK so we see 0945 which is, of course, 09.45 hours, the time of the event. Notice that there is a capital 'O' inserted here in the 'word' in order that the zero cannot be mistaken. Since days of the month go up to thirty-one and months to twelve we ignore the next lines with 323 and 0776 and 188 but here, down the page, embedded in a word of letters and numbers, 99XE8OX1607QP, we note '1607' so we know it is almost upon us, the sixteenth of the seventh month, July. Recap: 9.45am on the sixteenth of July.

Now you are going to ask me where is the venue hidden, a name that requires letters? How will that be achieved? Here on the penultimate line is a longish word, a word with the longest numerals, KL6437677QR9, the only sequence of seven numbers. Our postal codes all contain seven numbers. I have checked on our Route Planning website, Sir, and here we can see that 6437677 is on our doorstep, The Vienna Coffee House. Whether it is the Coffee House or the apartments above is not revealed'.

Feiss sat silently looking at the marks made by Leo on the sheet of paper. He leaned back and stared into the unblinking blue eyes.

'Leo, can it be that simple? No, not that it was simple, not the working out by yourself, of course not. But. What I mean to say is that when our computers uncover the mathmatical formula that opens a message it would be proof positive. Somehow, now that your cleverness has revealed the page to be so, well, can we say elementary?, there seems to be no cast-iron proof that I can offer General Patek the news that it is solved. Not in the same way that an equation or whatever would be convincing. You must know what I mean. You are the Numbers Man, I'm only the Manager of the Department'.

'Yes, Sir. I appreciate that, Sir. But how are Oscar and the rest of the team getting on? Nowhere when I last looked in. You are wondering whether you can call off the team and take this one line piece of information to General Psycho Patek'.

'Leo, you are about to make some suggestions as to a way we may proceed?'.

'Sir, I was happy enough to use my skills in External on the international intercepts, uncovering what the Russians and the Americans and the Mafias of Albania and Italy and Uzbekistan were all planning. External was my cup of tea, Internal is my cup of poison. We are only too aware of the corruptness of our own State, the culture of betrayal and spying neighbour upon neighbour, of the foul abuse by the insane Security Forces. In this department we are very near to the source of this corruption, a mere two floors from the screaming, the cruel and criminal behaviour of the Psychopathic Officers who are unaccountable for their actions. If I could change things for the better I would. If the assassination of Patek from a window above the Vienna Coffee House would achieve that then I would do the shooting or at least hold the curtain aside for the rifleman. Sir, I expect you're right. That my reading of the message is absurd. There's no way you can be confident I am correct. By the way, Sir, Olga has gone to live with her mother. She intends to find refuge in the West and I promised to seek what help I could to facilitate that'.

Feiss stared at the neat knot of Leo's tie. 'Anything else, Leo?'

'Yes, Sir. This I know. It would go a lot of the way to assuage the feelings of Olga and her friends to know the names and addresses of the two officers who interviewed Olga. It seems her friends wish to go visit to thank them both for declining to put a bullet behind her ear. Something like that. Possibly to chide them for their sadistic behaviour. I was at a loss to imagine who might be able to provide such information, Sir. I would be very pleased to convey these names and addresses to her friends'.

Feiss sighed and looked at his hands. He looked at his finger nails. He said, 'As you know, access to such information is restricted. However, by chance I made a note of the two interrogating officers, namely Kranz and Stern'. He left his chair and went to fill the coffee cups again. 'Leo, it was a pity Olga fell for that man. He seemed a good person. I don't know if he hoped to gain information through her from inside our department. Not that that would excuse all that happened. Nothing excuses the way this department works. She was, is, a good woman and was a reliable worker here. I liked her, Leo. I was powerless to intervene once the lover was identified. I bitterly regret my impotence in that. Not my department. But I managed to speak with her and said if she gave me the name and address I'd see that he had time to flee. She did and I sent him that information but he chose to stay for her and was taken and shot'.

Leo said, 'I didn't know that, Sir. It was good of you, brave of you'.

Feiss said, 'I was an army man, I am an army man, Leo. My family have been army people since the middle of the nineteenth century. I was miraculously overlooked by the Russians and their subsequent puppets. They massacred people like me in Poland. Why the puppets here failed to do this we will never know. A handful of us survived by sheer chance. The Nazis would have been more thorough. Things are changing, Leo, in Russia, Poland, everywhere in Eastern Europe. Not quickly enough for us. The Pateks will become more paranoid, more desperate, more cruel and more unpredictable when they see retribution hovering, thinking they can postpone the future. And in this new democratic world they'll become either grey little bureaucrats or part of the criminal underworld'. Feiss stood up and went to the window from where he could just see a part of the sign for The Vienna Coffee House. 'I believe your reading of the message is absolutely correct, Leo. Citizen X seems clever enough but is he clever enough to put a bomb under Patek or a bullet through his head? We could wait and see, don't you think? Between you and me, Leo, I think we should wait and see. Oscar is bound to declare the e-mail a red-herring, yet another piece of annoying time-wasting, a page of gobbledegook. I must, of course, take his advice. And I will inevitably be in agreement with whatever Oscar says. He is the top Numbers Man, I am merely the Manager'.

Leo said, 'Wait and see would be best, Sir'.

Feiss looked at his fingers again. 'Regrettably, Leo, the sixteenth of July falls in the middle of a three day break already arranged for me. I will be out of the city. General Patek has kindly offered me his lodge up in the mountains knowing I love walking. I suppose there'll be a telephone there but I plan to be out during all daylight hours, Leo. I expect I will be out of contact for those three days. Oscar will be in charge during my absence; best if a recognised fan of our work was here to galvanise the response to any misfortune however unlikely'.

At which point the blue telephone on his desk burred. Feiss mouthed 'Oscar' to Leo. He answered, 'I'm sure you're right, Oscar. Well, if you've been through all the procedures twice, then. If that's your considered view I'm happy with that. Make up the report and itemise every action. Copy to me. Address it to General Patek and red-star it, Oscar, and please deliver it in person. I doubt he's left the building. And thank you and the team for their great effort. You've done well, Oscar'.

Leo stood up to leave but Feiss waved him to remain. He brought out a bottle of vodka and said, 'Leo, we must drink to the success of the department in determining that the page contained no message in any discoverable code. Exactly as you said, Leo, and as Oscar forecast and confirmed'.

For the first time a smile half appeared. He said, 'Time to go, Leo. It's been a long and tiresome day here. I regret your day off was interrupted. I will ask that you are returned to External. I'll speak to a colleague there and get him to request your return. Oh, and should you bump into Olga please give her my, my, my best wishes. She knows I did what I could. She must know that I would have stopped her interrogation if I could. Also I will give you the addresses you ask for as soon as I discover them. I might even hide the two addresses in a page of gobbledegook, Leo. And by-the-way, if I may quote you, Leo, you may not know I was a marksman in my regiment?'

Leo said, 'Several trophies in inter-regimental competitions and two in international competitions. A Hot Shot in fact, Sir. I can poke my nose into most computer-held information which is, of course, why I was seen as one of External's most valuable operatives. I saw you trained as a sniper before getting an accelerated promotion'.

Feiss looked thoughtful. He said, 'Well, Leo, I'm beginning to see things clearly now. Congratulations. Yes, a Hot Shot, as they say. Never lost the knack. For me it lies in the breathing. It is for all snipers, of course, but usually it's a deep breath held for a short while. For some reason I expel all air and use the few seconds of stillness. It works for me'.

On the pavement in the cool evening air they shook hands. Leo said, 'I guessed right, Sir, thank you. We are both at risk, too, of course. On reflection, who isn't? Well, one day . . . '.

Feiss said, 'There was no need to say you had uncovered the message, Leo. You could have left it hidden. Why did you tell me?'

Leo said, 'The best way to convince you that we shared a moral viewpoint, Sir. And I thought that if things go badly you may need someone to turn things aside, lose information, point in the wrong direction, give warning'.

Feiss nodded and they both dipped a head in farewell. He thought that much of his anger had suddenly vanished. Well, there were things of the heart and soul to prepare. Colonel Feiss turned and made his way towards the Cathedral.

* * *

A bright, cold morning. Leaving the building Colonel Feiss watched a car pass him and draw up sharply. He saw the Koller girl, a grim look on her face, being escorted through the doorway of the Internal Security building which he had just left. Feiss knew she was regularly questioned as a warning on her behaviour, about her outspoken criticism of the vile ways of Internal Security, Daddy's position bringing her some immunity from the worst of their techniques. She was a thorn in the side of General Patek and the senior hierarchy of Internal. Another car drew up and a man was bundled less kindly through the entrance. The near assassination of General Patek had sent the department into a frenzy.

Colonel Feiss had thought it best to wear his army uniform for the visit to the Military Hospital to see the recovering General in a room to himself; he was sitting up in bed with his head wrapped in bandages. His eyes lit up at Feiss's entry, the visible half of his mouth making a temporary smile before he flinched at the pain. He spoke out of the corner of his mouth to thank Feiss for coming. He waved a bandaged hand.

'Bastards, Feiss. Who'd have thought! Lucky, though. Turned to see someone and waved. Window went. Bullet took finger, cheek and ear. Lost a couple of teeth. Driver just put his foot down, got me here. Blood all over. Lucky to be alive'.

Colonel Feiss pulled a sympathetic wince to his own face and unwrapped a bottle of American whisky. Patek said with feeling, 'Feiss, that's so good of you! Where did you find that? No, I won't ask' and Feiss smiled and waved a finger. He found a glass and another glass containing straws on the bedside table. Patek gratefully sucked in a little of the drink. He said, 'Feiss, what the hell's going on? Someone's going to pay for this, believe me. Bastards. And what's Boll doing about it, eh?'.

'Colonel Boll is putting in twentyfour hours a day. The Decoding Office likewise. So far nothing, General, but things have changed in the last three days, things you should know'.

Alarm showed in Patek's face. 'What? What, Feiss?'.

'Firstly, the previous events elsewhere in Eastern Europe are being replicated in Poland for sure. More urgently, Your two trusty interrogators, Krantz and Stern, have both been abducted and killed. We recovered their bodies yesterday'.

'Bloody hell!', said the General.

'As it was'. thought Feiss, 'for our innocent, loyal typist in the Decoding Office, Olga. And how many others?'.

On Feiss's return at noon there was a note on his desk requesting him to attend at the Ministry for Internal Security where Minister Voight needed thirty minutes of his time to discuss recent events. There was time to recover from the chill morning, to snatch a faux-coffee from the machine.

Minister Voight was sitting at his extremely wide desk and gave no welcoming greeting. 'Feiss', he said, 'I know your military record. Reliable, highly professional. Of course that's why we loaned you to Internal Security. This meeting is confidential. I've asked you here because you're really Army and not Internal, you'll have a different perspective on things'.

Feiss decided to fetch a chair from one side of the room and place it opposite the Minister. Voight suddenly gave what he intended to be a warm smile, an oblong of colourless thick lips parting on a snow-white replica of idealised teeth. He shifted nervously. He said, 'Didn't want to discuss this with General Patek's deputy, whatsisname, Colonel Boll. Best not seen in his company the way things seem to be going'. There was a lengthy pause while he sorted out the next words. 'Fact is, Feiss, that the assassination attempt on General Patek and now the murder of two of Patek's operatives is' and another long pause, 'is, is, well, what are your thoughts, Feiss?'.

Colonel Feiss stared at the desk. Time, he thought, to play it dangerously.

Colonel Feiss was back in his office by four-o-clock. He sent for Leo, the first time he will have seen him since the failed assassination. He drew Leo over to the window which he opened to the noise of the clank and drone of trams and vehicles that would further shade quiet words. The street scene was wet and grey.

'Leo, just back from seeing Patek. A sorry affair, that attempt to assassinate him. I gave the department's heartfelt congratulations on his survival and all our very best wishes for a speedy recovery'.

Leo said, 'Thank you, Sir. We are all overjoyed at the General's good fortune'.

'And, Leo, I was amazed to hear of the loss of Stern and Krantz. Death comes to us all but I had no idea it would be so very quick in their case'.

'Yes, the Grim Reaper has been surprisinjgly fast on his feet, Sir'.

Colonel Feiss looked out and along to where the sign for the Vienna Coffee House hung. He said, 'Leo, I'm certain I can soon transfer you back to External but there are one or two things that I believe we should achieve before you go at the end of the month. Computers being relatively new and in my ignorance of them I need to know if, in addition to your skills at reading secret Government files, can you also place documents into those files?'.

Leo's eyebrows lifted slightly. Feiss watched the blue eyes fall out of focus and imagined the reels and discs of Leo's brain whirring to examine the implications of the question. Feiss wasn't surprised to hear the leap-frog and knight's move of Leo's thinking.

Feiss closed the window on the cold air and went with Leo to the door.'Thank you, Leo. By-the-way, how's Colonel Boll getting on? Any rumours?'

Leo drew a deep breath. 'How to say, Sir? Operating with the extravagant enthusiasm of the deranged would best describe it. At least a dozen men have been taken in and about five women if Oscar's friend on the floor below is to be believed. Not a nice thought'.

Colonel Boll was taking an early evening supper in the Officers Canteen. Feiss knew Boll saw him as a threat to his position in the hierarchy, an alien, an Army man inserted, not a true Internal. Feiss brought his tray over to him and asked, 'How are things going, Boll?'. Boll scowled. 'Nowhere. And nothing from your lot, no intercepts, no useful mail checks, no references appearing to either Patek or the other two's shooting. You've given me nothing from the moles in the universities or the College of Technology'. Boll looked tired and dispirited. He went on, 'Nothing from the interviewees, either. Got that mouthy Koller bitch in again. Thinks she's beyond Internal's reach with Daddy running StellarOptiks and dragging in foreign currency. Didn't just shout in her pretty little ear, Feiss! She knows now what humiliation means. Decided to give her something never to be forgotten'.

Feiss gritted his teeth. He'd frequently seen Josephine Koller at a distance at concerts and several times in the Cathedral. She certainly had a reputation for speaking her mind. Boll's lopsided smile appeared across his face. 'She said: lay one finger on me, Boll and the Minister will have your guts, believe me.'.

Boll's lip curled. 'I said, would I do that, Josey? Lay a finger on you? Not on you, Josey. Ha! Took some nice Polaroids; show you some time, Feissy. Humiliation works better than pain for some, Feiss. And a few noises from the next cell had her shaking. Saw her leave almost crawling to a taxi. No connections there, though. Knew nothing, which is what I expected. Not clever enough'.

Feiss said, 'I saw the Minister this afternoon at his request. He says he thinks we Internals in this building are on a hit-list. Don't know where he got that idea from. But a change of subject: one of my operatives has given me a couple of tickets for a concert of new music. Next Wednesday evening. Like to come?'.

Boll gave a contemptuous sneer. 'Not my scene, Feissy'.

Colonel Feiss said to Leo, 'Sort of liked that'. Leo said, 'Lots of mathmatical games in it, which I enjoyed. Next piece should be interesting to judge by the instruments; his previous pieces have often been very lyrical, almost jazzy'.

Feiss said, 'Take my programme Leo. Boll's home address and that of three other officers who have a reputation for sadistic behaviour together with their car registration numbers. Boll has damaging material in his office. If he were to be, what?, neutralised? removed?, I would have an excuse to seal his room and obtain this material for the benefit of an innocent citizen'.

Leo said, 'I would guess the Grim Reaper would jump at another opportunity, Sir. And the addition of Boll's name to the list of the departed would surely give certain people fearful dreams of a violent revolution. And it will be interesting to see what the Ministers' responses will be in the light of the events in Poland and Russia. I am seeing the dread word 'acountability' appearing in Government secret papers. Not seen or heard that word before. I am into Minister Voights office. Also the Minister for Agriculture and Industry. More importantly I've been looking at the financial affairs of the State Bank regarding two or three engineering companies that friends advised on'.

* * *

A secretary knocked, entered. She said, 'General Patek is coming in, Colonel Feiss. Just taken a taxi from the hospital. Be about fifteen minutes, Sir. And who of us is safe in this building now?!'.

'You have no need to worry, Elena. I'm certain of that. If you haven't pressed glowing cigarettes to a breast or held a head down in a bucket of water on a regular basis then I doubt you're in danger. Typists are pretty safe, I'm sure'.

Feiss prepared coffee and waited. Blustering noises in the corridor announced Patek's arrival. He barged through the door and made for the chair Feiss was wheeling to the desk. Tape had now replaced bandages. Patek gave a huge sigh. 'Had to come in, Feiss. What in Hell's name is going on? Boll shot through the head! What was Boll up to? We have to turn things around, Feiss, otherwise the Minister . . . We of all people, Feiss, we're supposed to know the enemy!'.

Feiss delivered the coffee well sugared. 'General, I warned Boll, told him that it was probable that we are all being targeted. I've taken the liberty of sealing his office in case there is incriminating evidence there; you know what Boll got up to. Anyway, the police have kept the story under wraps so far'.

General Patek said, 'What the Hell was he doing entering a pansy brothel?'. He sighed again, 'Last place on earth. With the reputation he has . . .' and added, 'Thank you, Feiss. Glad someone's got their bloody head screwed on. And also, Feiss, the Minister is playing hard to get. Now that's a very bad sign, that's pretty worrying'.

* * *

Dear Ms Koller,

Although we are unacquainted I know you have reasons to be concerned at your recent meeting with Colonel Boll at the Central Office for Internal Security.

It is not widely known yet that Colonel Boll passed away quite suddenly two days ago. You will be relieved to hear that personal documents of his have been secured by me and will not be made public. However, unless the material relating to your last visit is in your own hands for your own disposal I know you will continue to be worried about their existence. Simply assuring you this material has been destroyed will not satisfy you.

I propose handing this material over to you providing this is done with all due care. To that end you should make a telephone booking for the concert in The Peoples' Hall next Thursday at 7pm. Do not buy a programme; you will be found in the audience and an envelope passed to you. Your purchase of a single ticket by phone will be all I need as confirmation you agree to this. As you can see, care demands this letter be delivered to you by hand; please never trust the Postal Service or your telephone as the Internal Security Police look and listen. But then you know all that.

A friend.

General Patek had real coffee and two glasses of whisky ready on his desk. He looked depressed, fidgeting away at his cuffs. 'Feiss, come in. You won't have heard but one of our best in the Interrogation Section has now also been murdered. It's a disaster, Feiss, staff beginning to put two and two together and refusing to carry out routine torture citing the bloody rules and regulations we've always seen as unnecessary. And we can't keep all this hidden; the Minister will sure to be making his worries felt. To think I covered that bugger's back, Feiss, got him where he is now. Means nothing anymore. We are under seige, Feiss. As you warned me, the events in our neighbours are changing things. God knows what's going to happen here'. Patek touched the still painfull cheek. 'Six weeks ago everything was straightforward, we could frighten the shit out of anyone, put people out of the way, no questions asked'. A weak smile crossed most of his face. 'Feiss, at first I didn't like having you put in the Decoding Office to sort procedures out, yes, I admit it. I now wish you'd been given a wider role but I'm grateful for your, your, your whatever. Calmness is what I mean. I need you to sort out what we should be doing'.

Feiss said, 'May I have a couple of days off to put together a plan by which we may give ourselves as strong a position as possible when the Minister turns on us, as surely he will? Could also use the computer wizard Leo, Sir, very reliable and totally committed? And as regards Boll, he was clearly unhinged, Sir, whilst you were away. I expect he was unhinged from the very beginning. A liability if and when our role is being questioned. We should be relieved that he's gone'.

Feiss sat towards the back of the concert hall. Leo was already sitting in row G one third along. Seats began to fill but the seat on Leo's left remained empty. With five minutes to go Feiss saw Miss Koller enter and thread her way to sit next to Leo. She wore a long and expensive coat and looked very poised, very attractive, more than a few Scandanavian genes in her, Feiss thought. He looked carefully around and felt certain that nobody was trailing her. Colonel Feiss missed the moment of handover but at some stage Leo had offered Miss Koller his programme. She left at the interval.

* * *

The President stared at the sheet of paper handed to him by his secretary. 'They've got it wrong, Wankel'.

'Wrong sum, Sir, but right Bank. Must deny it absolutely, Sir, brazen it out. The Party Chairman will choose to believe the Russian Embassy's assertion, of course, the bastard, but I can't see how it can be proved. Swiss banks are all on the side of a depositor clean or crooked. But what is the Minister of Ag and Industry playing at? Not clear in this other memo. What's his game, Sir? Are the Russians trying to promote him?'. The large and ornate ministerial room shadowed eerily by the solitary table lamp seemed strangely quiet to both men,. The President thought he heard the carpet breathe. He said, 'Wankel, we must distance ourselves from certain policies'.

Wankel said, 'How are on earth are you going to do that, Mr President?'

The Chief Justice said, 'This corridor is best, Kopel, and keep you voice down. Look, Internal can't be doing its job properly. How can Patek explain away four assassinations of his top staff? If things eventually go the way I think they're going, if Internal's record is made public, we're all in for the chop at best and most likely imprisonment, at worse they'll be stringing us up on lamposts!'

Judge Kopel said, 'Don't be ridiculous!'.

The Chief Justice sneered, 'Kopel, do you think the people will see a distinction between the insane bastards in Internal and those of us who put them there? This leaked memo from whatshisname, Colonel Feiss, paints a grim picture. But he's right. Who's to guarantee a Velvet Revolution? The Russians are leaving us, Kopel. Anyone who can is leaving the country. The bloody military yearn for repectability, Kopel. They'll just stand by, believe you me'. His lips and tongue writhed. He said, 'The thing to do is re-position ourselves'.

Kopel looked up and down the corridor. He said, 'How are we to do that'?

The Chief Justice said bitterly, 'Buggered if I know'.

At the coffee machine Feiss said to Leo, 'Could we find out who in the National Police Force may want to see their work run as they run them in democratic countries, more Western European, less Poll Pot, say?'.

* * *

Josie Koller looked around, then put the key in her door and opened it to find the housekeeper's anxious face waiting there. 'Someone from Internal Security is waiting upstairs for you, Miss'.

Josephine Koller started to shake. 'Not again! Tell the swine I will be there in a moment' and she went into her study and took a small pistol out of a drawer and put it into the pocket of her long coat.

The man in a drab suit stood up as she entered. The man said, 'Not Internal Security, Ms Koller, but Army. I lied so as to be sure to gain entry. To be perfectly truthful I have been drafted into Internal Security, not a promotion I welcomed'.

Josie Koller stared with a face of stone. 'And?', she said and then, 'Do you have a name?'.

'Not for you, Ms Koller. My life is in danger alongside those of yourself and some of your friends. I thought I should advise you to put pressure on your father to distance himself from Government circles, difficult, I know, with their grubby hands in the till of StellaOptiks. Things are changing. You will have been pleased to hear that Colonel Boll was killed, murdered to be exact. Not before time, you'll think, Miss Koller. As a result I made it my business to obtain the photos you have since received at the concert and doubtless have now destroyed'.

Josie Koller stared with less hostility, thought Feiss. After a moment she said, 'What else do you know?'.

Feiss said, 'What else is there to know? For your information I am opposed - I almost said violently opposed - to Internal's very existence, Ms Koller'.

She thought for a few moments. She said, 'Well, Mr X, I must thank you' and Feiss dipped his head. She gave the smallest of smiles, merely a polite smile, and said, 'I'm forgetting myself, let me ring for coffee. Please take a seat', shedding the long coat whilst at the same time drawing out the silvery pistol which she laid noisily on the table. 'Just intended to make a statement with that, Mr X. Now it's to show you I think it's not necessary'. A more genuine smile and, 'Always be prepared; isn't that what you'd advise, Mr X?'. To the housekeeper who entered the room she said, 'Coffee and cake, Tilly, and for God's sake turn up the heating, it's like ice in here'.

Josie Koller pulled a small table nearer to Feiss and rolled an armchair to the other side. She sat and flicked the long straight, almost blond hair into shape and crossed one long Scandinavian leg over the other. 'Do you know how Boll died, Mr X? Not too quickly, I hope?'

Feiss shrugged, 'Shot through the head. At the entrance to a male brothel; perhaps he didn't know it was a male brothel'.

Josie Koller smiled, 'Well, there's a thing! You live and learn!'.

Feiss said, 'The people who passed through Boll's hands certainly learned. Many didn't live; the others had only half lives thereafter'.

Josie Koller looked down at her feet and bit her lip. The arrival of the tea tray was a welcome distraction.

'I suppose you will have looked at the photos of me, Mr X, studied them carefully, I expect?'.

Feiss said, 'No other way of making sure the photos were of you, Miss Koller. There were other photographs. Much worse'.

'Yes, yes. Of course'. A long pause. 'Could this be the end of these crimes, I mean the interrogations and injustices, not the cleansing, the bullet, the proper justice that is my due, our due, everyone's due?', an anger entering the last few words.

'We, I hope so'.

'So, Mr X, you not only know my name but know exactly what I look like naked. Very few know that, Mr X'.

She went to the door with him. 'You don't look like a sadistic bastard, Mr X. Not at all like Boll and his teams. If I get into more trouble can I contact you?'.

'Sadly no, Miss Koller. But I'll keep in touch with you, keep an eye on you. And do make sure your father finds new friends. He must extricate himself and the company he is obliged to keep. He may very soon find the President surprisingly easy to wean off his backhanders. I would like to speak to him sometime soon. Confidentially. Please ask on my behalf, Ms Koller'.

On the steps he held out his hand.

'Mr X, please may I have a polite kiss on both cheeks? It would be best for you, believe me. A good sign, an important sign; I've also got friends keeping an eye on me and they need to know if you're friend or foe'. They both smiled. 'And I'm very cross I won't be able to invite you to dinner, Mr X!'.

* * *

General Patek sat slumped in his chair. There were dark pouches beneath his eyes and his face was flushed. 'Feiss, come in. Not just bad news, Feiss! We're are being conspired against. That's bloody clear, Feiss'. These intercepts of yours, can we trust them? Are they genuine? Look'.

'No reason to believe they aren't the real thing. They certainly look genuine'.

'I'm not going down without a fight, Feiss. But I'm still feeling the effects of this', touching his cheek and where much of his ear had been. 'At the moment, not on top of things like I used to be. What do you suggest we do, Feiss?'.

'I think you should phone the Party Chairman, Sir, say you know Voight is determined to shed responsibilty for Internal Security and hand it over to the National Police Force to investigate irregularities. There will be implications for himself. At the same time I suggest you bring to the attention of the Chief Justice and the President the history of the Party Chairman diverting Russian money into a personal Zurich account to the value of thirty-five thousand US Dollars. This may lift the spotlight from Internal, Sir'.

General Patek stared at Feiss and whispered, 'Thirty-five thousand! Do we know that for sure, Feiss?' and Feiss withdrew another two sheets of paper stapled together. He said, 'Postal swears these were recovered this morning via the usual collection. A highly confidential memo and a copy of a letter to the Zurich bank. Must be an insider's work, someone who's had enough of State money going into private accounts. We can only know if this theft is true by combing through the Chairman's files, but more likely by going into his own computer, General. I wouldn't know how to arrange for the issuing of such a warrant to ransack these, but doubtless you still have influence, friends who could arrange this. All quite beyond me, of course, Sir. I can only do my duty of passing this information on to you'.

Patek stared at Feiss and at the several sheets of paper spread on his desk. 'Let me get this straight, Feiss. In this bank is an account in the Party Chairman's name containing a bloody fortune nicked from Russian funding. Should we ask the bank for confirmation, Feiss? Daren't make a mistake!'.

'Bank accounts are confidential, Sir, and unlikely to be in the Chairman's name. However, External may be able to ferret out such information. Somehow. I'm positive they have ways and means'.

'Bloody hell, Feiss! People could be in shit street here. No word of this must get out until, until. Tell the member of staff who uncovered these letters that he'll be shot if he breathes a word to anyone. Shot after he'd been castrated, of course. Slowly castrated, tell him'.

'Actually it's a 'her' but I shall convey your warning in appropriate imagery, General'.

Feiss gathered up the papers. He said, 'May I suggest you take a few more days to get yourself back on your feet, Sir? Let me handle this. Take a few days away in your lodge, Sir, with your lady friend. You love it there and you'd come back revitalised and ready to take things on, show them who's boss'.

'Well, yes, I could do that. Show the buggers I couldn't care less. Relaxed and so on. Bloody good idea, Feiss'.'

* * *

Feiss said, 'Leo, things are taking place, thanks to you. Not that I'm confident new politicians will be whiter than white or even competent'.

Leo said, 'An independant press and television service would help. Fingers crossed for a better future. And you, Sir, if you'll allow, have the same ruthlessness as Patek be it for opposite ends. I have, too. And the way computers are entering everyday life must be a good thing, make for a degree of transparency'.

'Unless future criminals use the skills that you have, Leo. That, I fear'.

The President said, 'Look, Wankel, I'm going to have to get out. I'm really not up to re-structuring this country into a two-party, multi-party state. Let someone else do all that. I've had my day; we both have. I suppose you and I might slip away to Switzerland until things settle down. Ill health and all that? Eh? What's up, Wankel? What the hell's happening now? Speak, man!'

Wankel pulled a face, 'I hardly know how to say this, Sir, but here is our Basle bank statement as you requested. Be prepared, Sir. Ten US dollars. One hundred and fifty roubles. Don't ask me how'.

The President stood and reached out a hand in slow motion. He fell back saying, 'A pain, Wankel! Who? How?. Where's it gone? Can we not? Are you? Those pills there, Wankel, please, hurry! Say it's not true!'.

The Party Chairman spoke in a trembling voice into the phone, 'Mr Ambassador, just a visa, please, it's all I'm asking. I would like to go. I need to go. I could be very useful, surely? I know Moscow could make good use of me. What Zurich money? Not me! Never! Don't try that one on me, Mr Ambassador! It's a lie and you know it! And you don't still have Gulags, Mr Ambassador. I don't believe you. Hullo? Hullo? Hullo?'.

General Patek listened for a moment. He said, 'Listen to me, Kopel! If you or the Chief Justice prosecute me then the country will hear of your involvement. One hundred and thirty four illegal deaths?! Stuff you, Kopel, twice that number if you must know, not to speak of the broken legs and the finger-nails and the bloody heart-attacks! Sod you, Koppel. Too bad, I'm off to recuperate so you can speak to me if you wish in four days time; I'm on holiday. Yes, that's how worried I am! I'm putting the phone down'.

'Colonel Feiss, I'm indebted to you over my daughter. We must have lunch together soon. StellarOptiks will, I can assure you, wriggle out of our association with the President and other government cronies of his. When the time comes I will testify to ministerial corruption, I promise you. And companies like ours can bring this country round to a better life. It's what I want to do'.

Josey smiled and said, 'You're not finished with the family yet, Mr X. You are having a thank-you dinner at home with me. Refusal not accepted. The company car awaits, doesn't it Father?'.

In the limousine she snuggled up against his shoulder. She said, 'Mr X, I too have a Polaroid camera, a more recent model than Swine Boll's. I suggest you might like to take away some pictures of me looking less distressed than in Boll's pictures? As a souvenir, if you see what I mean. Which I hope you do. If you don't then I can explain by whispering in your ear'.

Later at the doorway, saying goodbye, Josie Koller said, 'Despite all that has happened this evening I still don't have your first name! But I rather like just calling you Mr X, it makes our relationship a little more mysterious, more wicked. When I think of our next rendezvous I'll say to myself: I'm seeing Mr X again tonight!. I know it sounds a little on the eager side, Mr X, but how about tomorrow evening?'.

Colonel Patek parked his car and lugged his and his lady-friend's suitcase into the lodge. The wood-burning stove took flame at its usual speed and the crackle and glow cheered him up as he knew it would. He poured large drinks for both of them and raised his glass. 'Cheers and fuck'em all!', he said. He went to the window and looked out at the dense forest of dark firs. Rooks, or were they crows? possibly ravens? circled over the tree tops. Somewhere in there were deer and foxes, maybe even a bear. A thin snowfall swirled in the air.

A rough cart track cut for the use of loggers lay a kilometre beyond that wall of trees he was looking at. A parked car rested there in which two men stirred themselves.

One checked his wrist-watch and both checked their pistols.