The Berlin Connection Read Free Page A

two hands to my body to prevent the deadly effect of this fist.

    But it rose.
    The room was swimming, out of focus. My wife, Shirley, looked at me, disappeared, looked at me again.
    The fist had reached the first pair of ribs. It continued rising, without haste, without pity. It had already left behind a partial corpse! Feet, thighs, hips, abdomen. Ahead of it, it forced the little life which remained in my body, breath, veins, blood: Blood which now began to throb violently in my fingers, in my temples, in my ears.
    I was panting. Fighting for air, my body was horribly contorted. The heels were dug into the carpeting, the shoulder blades into the chair.
    "Fm ... dying ..."
    I heard myself babble. At that moment this terrible giant fist, which did not exist but nevertheless was killing me, reached my heart. Like a flood fear enveloped my brain and paralyzed it.
    Fear!
    I had never known such fear. Fear such as this had evaded my imagination.
    I knew what it was to be afraid when a film studio went up in flames and I had been trapped by the grid and the flood and spotlights. I thought it was fear I felt when, at fifteen, I saw my poor mother suffocate in minutes from the tumor in her throat. Near Aachen one of our B-52's mistakenly bombed us when the wind shifted and blew away the demarcation smoke signals. A jet taking me to Mexico, through a malfunctioning of its automatic pilot, fell thirty thousand feet before the pilot could control it. In all those moments I was convinced no one in this world could have ever felt greater fear.
    Fear?
    I had not really known fear. Now I knew. Now true, real fear spread over me, paralyzed my limbs, robbed me of my ability to see and hear.
    The fist opened. Its fingers closed around my heart and squeezed. I screamed in despair but surely no one could

    hear me; the storm raged and would drown out all screams.
    Now. Now. Now.
    Now came death.
    But death did not come. Not yet.
    The fist released my heart; I could feel it slowly sinking below the ribs and coming to rest in the pit of my stomach. There it stayed, insidious, certain of me.
    I felt my heart beating furiously. I felt its beat in my back, my toes, my tongue.
    When would the fist attack again? When would the fear return? Both of them were inside me, terrifying intruders. I was still alive. For how long? Who could bear waiting for death like this? No one. No one on this earth.
    A doctor. I had to have a doctor.
    I had hardly thought that when I heard myself groan, "No..."
    Whatever happened, no doctor must see me in this condition. No doctor. Not now. Shirley's green eyes were looking at me, hypnotizing me, imploring me.
    All would be finished if a doctor were to examine me now, our love damned and my opportunity lost: my last chance, here in Germany, here, in this storm-whipped city.
    No, Shirley, no.
    No doctor.
    Whisky.
    The word rekindled life in me. Choking greed for alcohol filled me. I needed whisky, good blessed Scotch, as my saviour. I could smell it, taste it, feel it flowing down my throat, smoky and wonderful, dissolving the giant fist, making it disappear.

    -^ Whisky!
    My legs felt unsteady. I staggered to the bedroom.
    Whisky, yes.
    It was just Shirley's call. The scare. Too much alcohol the night before. The storm. The early morning. Everything else but not death. I didn't need a doctor. I would make that film. I could play my part. I would play my part.
    The key!
    I had already thrown open the door of the closet and grabbed the black leather travel bag when I remembered the key. The bag had a lock. The key was in my tuxedo.
    I dragged myself, still terribly weak, to the chair where the evening before I had carelessly thrown my clothes. The trousers fell on the carpet, the jacket, too. I had to bend down. Blood shot to my head. The key, damn it, where was the key? My shaking hands emptied the pockets, coins, bills, cigarettes. There was the key. I staggered back to the bag.
    There had been a time (fortunately it had