But they’d survived.

And now a new life beckoned them in the west. A life which – Müller knew – in many ways wouldn’t necessarily be better. They had left a lot behind, and much of it she would miss. Her career as a senior policewoman – one she’d fought so hard for – was now over. There was no way the BRD would want to employ one of the Republic’s cast-offs.

But one thing they had left behind, she wouldn’t miss at all.

The Stasi, and all its underhand games.

The final one – co-operating with the fascists and imperialists, all for the sake of money – was too much for her to bear.

She hugged both her children tight as Tilsner started to clear away and hide the debris.

Then suddenly he stopped.

‘We don’t really need to do this.’

‘What?’

‘Hide it all away. We’re not in the Republic now. We’re free. We’ll probably be celebrities because of our daring escape. All of this is the evidence.’ He held up a piece of material – what remained of the balloon envelope – examining it as though he couldn’t really believe it had worked.

Müller knew he was right. Things would be very different on this side.

Then, one little doubt entered her head.

What if Tilsner’s calculations were wrong?

What if they hadn’t flown far enough after all?

Suddenly, panicked, she looked left and right, expecting the Republic’s border guards and dogs to pounce on them from all directions.

She realised there was nothing there. Just trees, and more trees. The trees in the west looked just the same as those in the east – that was the strange thing.

Her heartbeat settled down, and she smiled at Jannika and Johannes.

‘We’d better get going then, and find western civilisation.’

One of her first jobs when they reached it would be to finally let the world have sight of Arnold Southwick’s research – research which would show the terror bombings on Dresden for what they really were, and name the guilty men. It was the least she could do for the man and his memory.