“Ever since Stalingrad. Also there is von Seydlitz-Kurzbach. Of course, you’d remember his propaganda broadcasts in Königsberg. Yes, it’s quite a little German colony over there. A regular Nazi home away from home. Once you’re on the plane to Krasnogorsk from Berlin, there’s no getting off. But on the train between here and Berlin—or better still, between here and Zwickau—that’s where you could make your escape. Just think. From this camp to the Ami zone of occupation is less than sixty kilometers. If my lady friend, Gertrud, was not in East Berlin, I might be tempted myself. So what I propose is this: I will inform Major Weltz that I’ve persuaded you to change your mind. That you are prepared to undergo reeducation at the Anti-Fa School. He’ll speak to the camp commander, who’ll take you out of the pit and put you back on the sorting. Otherwise, everything else will appear as normal until the day you leave this place, when a clean uniform and new boots will be provided for you to wear. By the way, what size boots do you take?”

“Forty-six.”

Mielke shrugged. “A man’s body weight can fluctuate dramatically, but his feet always stay the same size. All right. There will be a gun inside the leg of the boot. Some papers. And a key for your manacles. You’ll probably be accompanied on your journey by that young MVD lieutenant and a Russian starshina. But be warned. They won’t give up easily. The penalty for allowing a pleni to escape is to take the prisoner’s place in the labor camp. And the chances are you’ll have to use the gun and kill them both. But that shouldn’t be a problem for you. The train won’t be like previous convict trains you’ve been on. You’ll be in a compartment. As soon as you’re moving, ask to use the toilet. And come out shooting. The rest is up to you. The best thing would be if you took the uniform of one of your escorts. Since you speak Russian, that shouldn’t be a problem either. Jump the train and head west, of course. If you’re caught, I shall deny everything, so please spare me the embarrassment. If they torture you, blame Major Weltz. I never liked him anyway.”

Mielke’s ruthlessness made me smile. “There’s just one problem,” I said. “The other plenis. My comrades. They’ll think I sold out.”

“They’re Nazis, most of them. Do you really care what they think?”

“I didn’t think I would. But oddly, I do, yes.”