Standard Disclaimer: Trixie Belden® is a registered trademark of Western Publishing (Golden Books) and, I guess, now of Random House. I am not making any money from this story and it is intended as a fan’s tribute to Trixie Belden.

 

 

One Star

-- Or --

Trixie Ist Eine Berlinerin

By Maidrya

 

The snow crunched under the young woman’s boots. The snowfall of the day before had been followed by bitter cold and wind, making a brittle and unpredictably slick surface on the East Berlin streets and sidewalks. She pulled her scarf closer around her face, her sandy eyelashes blinking into the punishing dawn wind. She was used to cold winters, but the Berlin winters seemed particularly cruel.

Maybe it was because the heating systems in most buildings were antiquated. There was always a bit of chill in the air, so that you never felt you’d gotten thoroughly warm before you had to venture into the elements again. Or maybe it was because it was Christmas Eve and she was far from home.

As she rounded the corner toward the Stasi offices, the young woman pushed the thought of home from her mind. In her line of work she could not afford to let her thoughts linger on her former home. She must remember and think only as Comrade Susanne Freiheit¹, born in Hamburg, recruited into the party and a new life just a little over a year ago.

The building Freiheit entered brought her current life to mind with all the force of the hammer on the Party’s flag. It was a huge, hulking, concrete edifice which housed the headquarters of the Ministry of State Security, the dreaded East German secret police, popularly known as the Stasi. She pushed open the heavy wooden door to the ground floor offices where she worked as an entry level officer – mostly a glorified secretary and go-fer. Usually the office atmosphere was as grim as the peeling paint on the walls: the routine of processing reports, copying reports, forwarding reports, filing reports, on and on with the reports, punctuated occasionally by the fearful faces of those brought in for questioning and the malicious faces of the questioners.

Today, however, Karlheinz Richter, the usually phlegmatic Colonel, was bustling back and forth among the inner and outer offices that comprised his suite, shouting directions to the other secretary, Frau Wagner. "This an important capture -- a great breakthrough in our intelligence," he was saying. He was a rather attractive, gray-haired man of about fifty, Freiheit guessed, a man who might have been muscular in his youth, but who was running to fat now. Deskbound and overly fond of his sauerbraten and strudel.

"What’s happening, comrades?" Freiheit tried to make her voice curious and as excited as his as she hung her coat on the hook.

"We’ve discovered an underground tunnel which the reactionary traitors have been using to betray their socialist brothers! At the same time we have uncovered information identifying some of the ringleaders of the dissidents. We can crush these enemies of our country," Frau Wagner said triumphantly. She was pointing to some papers and files which she had been studying.

"It is an important strategic win," Richter said more calmly, taking back the files and papers. "It reduces their options considerably."

"Wunderbar!" (Wonderful) Freiheit said. "Who are they? How did this happen?" Freiheit picked up a pile of folders from her in basket, and began efficiently to replace them in the filing cabinets. She kept her face expressionless as Richter talked of identifying some leaders of an organized resistance to the Communist Party and the government of the German Democratic Republic. This resistance was circulating lies about the Party and fomenting unrest, but now the Party had identified some of the leaders and would be able to stop some of their activities. Most importantly, they’d discovered some individuals who formed an underground resistance to help others escape.

"How very clever. How did you go about uncovering this?" Freiheit asked, trying to play up to Richter’s ego.

But Richter was too cagey to be lured into disclosing the secrets of his investigation. He just shrugged slightly.

Frau Wagner spoke up instead. "I don’t think you need to know those kinds of details, Comrade," she said, looking reproachfully at Freiheit. Frau Wagner was a member of the Communist party and thus a "comrade" also. But somehow her imposing maternal manner inspired everyone to continue to call her, "Frau."

Freiheit accepted the rebuke without comment and turned to her files. But later that morning, when Wagner and Colonel Richter went down the hall for a short conference, Freiheit hurried into Richter’s office. In the center of his desk was the large manila file that he’d been carrying. Keeping one ear alert for returning footsteps, Freiheit pulled out the papers from the folder. On the first page was a list of 10 names and addresses. As quickly as she could she memorized the names and some of the addresses. She was about to take a look at the open shelves when she heard voices passing in the hall outside. She ran back into the front office and picked up her file folders, prepared to look busy. The voices kept going, however.

Freiheit waited another minute, her heart pounding. Richter would have her shot immediately if he knew of her activities. Not so much out of principle. While many of the Stasi were truly dedicated Communists, Richter was just a cynic. But he’d shoot her without remorse or hesitation if he thought she threatened his own standing. He’d served and survived Hitler, and then managed the not inconsiderable feat of switching sides. He expected to survive the new regime as well and enjoy a comfortable retirement and he’d dispatched of people much more threatening to him than Freiheit could be. She went to the office entrance and peered out. The halls were empty so she hurried back into Richter’s office.

On the shelves of the small closet in his office she found the papers that Richter had taken from the dissidents. She hesitated. Taking them all would surely attract notice. So, she picked up the top third and stuffed them into the folders she’d been filing. On her way back into the front office, she picked up a few more folders from Richter’s desk. She was just walking across the threshold when Frau Wagner returned and looked at her narrowly.

"In his excitement Comrade Richter forgot to give us these folders to replace," Freiheit said, holding up the folders from his desk and shaking her head at Richter’s absent-mindedness.

Frau Wagner nodded, appeased, and went on about her chores. Freiheit went back to her filing. From time to time, when Wagner’s back was turned, the young woman slipped some papers from the files into her own notebooks which she kept in a shopping bag.

Colonel Richter returned to the office later that morning, a worried look on his face. "I must get a message to Anton. We must be sure to have a lookout for one set of dissidents in particular so that they don’t slip through our fingers. But I also need to proceed with the interrogations and patrols. I don’t have enough manpower. These so-called soldiers and their bourgeois notions! Taking off tonight and tomorrow to see their families."

Freiheit saw her opportunity. "Comrade, if I could have a pass to West Berlin, I would gladly contact Anton. I would be glad to help the Party in this way."

Richter looked at her skeptically, but then he shrugged. "It is a simple enough job, a simple message to deliver. Why not?" He beckoned her into his office and gave her instructions on how to find Anton and how to identify herself. Anton von Hoffman was an attaché at the American Embassy, Freiheit learned. He was also a mole who passed on helpful information to the Stasi when he could. And, when they made it profitable for him. Richter held out an envelope for Freiheit, which she understood to contain a significant sum in Deutsch Marks. She returned to her desk and put the envelope in the top drawer of her desk.

When lunchtime came Freiheit told Frau Wagner that she was skipping lunch in order to do some shopping, since she wouldn’t have time after work. She gathered her coat and shopping bag and headed out. The clouds had cleared, but it was still very cold. Freiheit walked briskly, but she also stopped from time to time and inspected the shop windows she passed, even though there were not many goods on display. After staring in a window she would look casually around and then continue on her way. In this manner she continued for several blocks until she abruptly disappeared into a side alley. She hurried to a back door and knocked quietly.

A voice called softly. "Ja?"

"Freiheit," she replied quietly, watching the street to see if any passers-by looked her way. The door opened and a blonde man of medium height and build ushered her into a small storeroom behind a shop.

"Susanne, I’m so glad you’re here," Wolfgang said with relief.

"I got here as soon as I could, Wolfgang," she replied.

"Your face is like ice. Come in for some hot tea. Ernst, Fritz, Greta and the others are all here," he said, leading her away from the storeroom into an even smaller room that was little more than a closet.

Susanne Freiheit followed Wolfgang into a small room where a half dozen or so young people were seated on boxes and large sacks of flour. She exchanged quiet greetings with everyone and gratefully accepted a cup of tea.

After a quick swallow she began to speak. "I’ve not much time. None of us have much time and I have important news."

Susanne found that the students were already aware of the arrests of some of their friends and they realized that some of their resistance movement had been compromised. At least she was able to give them specific information as to which routes to avoid and where the Stasi was going to be patrolling.

"Also, I have the names of those who must leave now, immediately." She rattled off the names she had memorized from the top sheet of paper. Wolfgang’s and three others present were among the names.

Wolfgang seemed to take the news in stride. "I will lead our group," he said.

"There’s one other dissident that Colonel Richter mentioned specifically," Susanne said. "A Rabbi Joseph Cohen and his family. Miriam, his wife and Joshua, his son. Do you know them?"

Wolfgang nodded. "The regime considers him an agitator because he is outspoken and has fought to maintain the rights of the Jewish people to religious observance. He’s been a spiritual leader for many of us, even those who are not Jewish."

"A simple escape through the tunnels is not going to work for him and his family, I’m afraid," Susanne said. "I am charged with delivering a message to secret operatives in West Berlin who will be on the lookout for him and have the intention of insuring that he and his family do not make it alive to Israel."

Wolfgang frowned.

"I’ve got an alternative, but it has to be done tonight," Susanne continued. "I am delivering a message for the Colonel of the Stasi and I have a pass to West Berlin. I can get my hands on forged passports for the Rabbi and his family. But it must be tonight," she finished urgently. "We are out of time!"

Wolfgang nodded. "I will notify the Rabbi and have him and his family here this evening."

Susanne agreed that she would collect them after work. She took a sip of tea and rubbed her eyes.

"You’re tired," Wolfgang said. "At least have a seat for a minute before you head back out."

As Susanne had talked he had been looking through the papers she’d managed to rescue. Most were letters the dissidents had written to friends and family in West Berlin. "At least some of the families can get some last messages," he said, sighing heavily. He held up one. "Someone has written a song," he said, pointing to the scribbled musical clef and notes. "It’s called ‘One Star.’" He pulled a guitar off the shelf and began to pick out the chords and melody. In a clear tenor voice he sang:

"One star shone upon the night
Long ago when love was born
             -----
One dream never seems to die,
Sparkles like the evening sky.
One love can grow
‘til every heart can know,
The world is One." ²

Wolfgang finished strumming. Susanne and the group sat quietly, each thinking of the German dream of one Berlin, one Germany. Susanne longed to linger but she knew she did not dare. She spoke regretfully. "I must be off now. It has been wonderful to know you. If I don’t see you, Godspeed on your journey," she said and the others responded in kind. "Have the Rabbi and his family here and I will pick him up directly after work," she told Wolfgang before entering the alley.

Susanne took the same swift, but circuitous route back to the Stasi station, arriving breathlessly two minutes late. Frau Wagner raised an eyebrow. "You are running, Comrade Freiheit? In this weather?"

"A little exercise warms me up," Susanne Freiheit replied and set about her afternoon duties.

It was dark outside, though only 5:00 p.m., when Comrade Freiheit left the Stasi headquarters after the workday. She hurried to a garage near her flat and climbed in a beat-up VW bug, which grumbled but came to life when she turned the key. She drove as she had walked – turning corners unexpectedly, going around blocks, looking for any sign that she was being followed. As quickly as prudence would allow, she arrived at the alley behind Wolfgang’s shop. When Wolfgang admitted her, she found that he and the three from his group were bundled up.

"We will leave for the tunnel after you leave," Wolfgang explained.

Behind him a man, woman and boy had appeared. Wolfgang turned and introduced Rabbi Joseph Cohen, his wife Miriam, and son, Joshua, to Susan. Rabbi Cohen was of medium height with dark brown, nearly black, hair and warm brown eyes. His wife was nearly as tall as he with light brown hair swirled in a bun. She was pretty, but the circles under her eyes told of sleepless nights. The boy, Joshua, looked like his father, the same dark hair, but even darker eyes which snapped with life.

"I used to have a brother like you, but he’s much older now," Susanne burst out involuntarily. Joshua smiled quickly, but she put her hand on her mouth and shook her head. "We need to be going," she said.

Susanne reached into her coat and pulled out some of the money Colonel Richter had given her. She gave some to Wolfgang. "You may need these," she said and hugged him and his three companions. "Frohliche Weihnachten, (Merry Christmas). Godspeed," they told each other.

Susanne turned to the Cohens. "There will be passports for you to use once we are in West Berlin. But, to enter West Berlin, you will have fake identities and use these passports. I have gotten a one-week pass. The rationale is that I am taking you to a conference at the University where you will represent the GDR. There is also a passport for Joshua once you are safe in West Berlin. But he will have to hide in the trunk as we enter West Berlin through Checkpoint Charlie. There is no plausible reason why a child would be attending a conference like this."

The Cohens exchanged glances and Miriam hugged her son to her side. Susanne went into the alley and opened up the trunk in the front of the VW. A special compartment had been hollowed out which would accommodate a child or a rather small adult. She helped Joshua climb in and pulled out a warm blanket from the side of the trunk.

"Whatever happens, make no sound. Don’t come out until you hear me or your mother or father tell you to," she told him. She turned to the Cohens and saw the worry etched on their faces. "Don’t worry, I’ve done this before," she said to Miriam.

Miriam and Joseph bent into the trunk and kissed Joshua. He nodded solemnly and calmly when Susanne covered him with the blanket. Then she replaced the floor mat over the blanket and closed the trunk door on the young boy. She and the Cohens climbed in the VW and set off through the dark East Berlin streets.

Freiheit again took a roundabout route, constantly looking for who might be following her. When she was satisfied that they were free, she elaborated on the Cohen’s cover story and the next steps they would take to freedom. "You are scientists, comrades, not married. You will show that the German Democratic Republic is devoted to technological advancement. Once we are past Checkpoint Charlie, I will head to the American Embassy. There, I will introduce you to Rudy, who works as the headwaiter on the Embassy staff. He will take over from there. You will drop the scientist identities completely. Rudi will hide you in the Embassy for a short time until it is possible to get you safely out of West Berlin."

The Cohens nodded quietly but neither said anything. After a few more miles, Susanne spoke again. "Checkpoint Charlie is two blocks ahead. When we get there, let me do the talking. They will ask us to get out and they will search the car thoroughly. Don’t worry and don’t look nervously at the trunk. Then they won’t find the hiding place."

"Fraulein, we must trust you with our son’s life and ours," Rabbi Cohen replied, his voice tight. He sat up from the back seat and put his hand on his wife’s shoulder. She grabbed it and held on tight.

Susanne saw the lights of Checkpoint Charlie up ahead. Checkpoint Charlie was the guard station and was the only legal entry point between East and West Berlin. Checkpoint Charlie had been the site of a tense 10-day stand-off between the tanks of the Soviet Union and those of the United States when the Berlin Wall had first been built. Eventually the stand-off abated and West Berlin had remained an island of freedom in East Germany.

Susanne pulled up and stopped the car. Two guards came out of the station and motioned them out of the car. Susanne Freiheit handed over the passports and talked casually with one of the officers.

"They’re representing the Colonel tonight at the embassy reception," she said proudly.

He looked over the Cohens. "They don’t seem dressed for a formal reception," he said stiffly.

"Why should they? Comrades have no need for capitalist display," Freiheit let a superior, accusatory tone creep into her voice.

The soldier shrugged. He was holding a mirror underneath the car by a long handle, looking for any thing that might be hidden underneath.

"Open the trunk now, please, Comrade," the other guard commanded.

Freiheit went over and turned the latch on the front of the VW. She stood beside the guard as he turned his flashlight on the trunk, trying to look casual and bored. Before his light revealed it, she saw that a corner of the blanket covering Joshua had somehow gotten out above the floor mat.

Freiheit began to shiver and rub her arms as noticeably as she could. "It’s getting cold, are we almost done, Comrade?"

The soldier had spotted the blanket. "What’s this?"

"It’s just an old blanket I used to use for the occasional picnic," Freiheit shrugged.

The soldier frowned and reached toward it. "I should look more closely. Why is it underneath the floor mat?"

"Because it provides an extra layer of insulation in the winter. This VW has gotten old and drafty and the heater does not work very well. Really, Herr Comrade, can't you make your search more efficient? Colonel Richter would not like his representatives to be late to the reception."

The soldier hesitated. Freiheit continued. "I don’t know how I could explain it to the Colonel."

That made up the soldier’s mind. He shut the trunk and signaled to Freiheit and the Cohens that they could get back in the car. He walked to the guard station, stamped the passes and strode back over. "Be off with you, then," he said.

Freiheit hardly dared breathe as she put the car in gear and pulled away from the station. No one said anything for two full blocks. Finally, Freiheit spoke. "There is no one behind us. I think we have made it."

Miriam lowered her head let out a small sob. "Thank God."

Freiheit reached across and gently patted Miriam’s knee. "Just a few more blocks and we will be safe and you will have Joshua." There was another silence as everyone in the car contemplated the dangers all around them.

"This is Christmas Eve, a most holy day for Christians, Fraulein," Rabbi Cohen spoke from the back seat. "You are having a very different kind of celebration."

"I haven’t had time to give it much thought," the young woman replied.

"But your family comes to mind quickly," Miriam reminded her.

"Yes," Susanne replied. "I did a lot of baby-sitting in my time." She had almost said "Bobby-sitting," but she caught herself. It endangered her and others if they knew personal information about her.

"This spring we will be in Jerusalem, at last," the Rabbi said. "Always, when the Jews celebrate Passover in other lands they say, ‘next year in Jerusalem.’ Well, next year we really will be in Jerusalem. We will live openly and observe our religion as we believe."

"Tell me, how do you keep your hope alive?" Freiheit stopped the car at a red light. "You have been so long from your land, Israel, and your people scattered in so many countries. How do you still believe?"

"There is always a new day," Miriam replied. "Some of us must work through some dark nights of history, but there is always a new day."

They had arrived near the Embassy and Freiheit didn’t have much time to contemplate Miriam’s response. She drove to a nearby side street. The three got out of the car and then opened the trunk and uncovered little Joshua. He was huddled in his coat, but his dark eyes still shone. He and his parents stood for a moment, hugging each other. Freiheit watched them, her eyes softening for a moment. But not for long. She looked around at the shadows on the street.

"Come," she said to the family in a low voice. "We cannot afford to stay out here."

The Rabbi nodded and put his arms around his wife and his son’s shoulders and they followed Freiheit as she hurried toward a side entrance. Freiheit pulled out a key from inside her coat and opened the door, then led the family down a long hall and into a small room.

"I’ll go find Rudy. He is your guide for the next stage of your journey," she said. "You stay here. But take this," she reached in her coat and pulled out some more of the Deutsch Marks. "You will need some cash for your journey," she insisted when the Rabbi started to demur. "Joshua may get hungry."

"We are grateful for the money, but tonight, Fraulein, you have given us something even more valuable. You have given us the gift of freedom," Rabbi Cohen said, walking with her to the door. "That is something we can never repay."

"You don’t need to repay me, to was given to me as a gift also," Susanne replied. "I guess all we can do is use our freedom well."

The Rabbi and his wife nodded and the boy’s big eyes gleamed as she waved good-bye.

Susanne Freiheit slipped back into the hall and hurried toward the kitchen. She found a busboy and asked him to let Rudy know she was there. In a few moments the headwaiter, a man of medium height with an elegant manner, came striding toward her.

"They are in the room," Susanne said, not wasting a minute. "They know that you will provide them with passports and the next leg of their journey. Additionally, you should know that Colonel Richter wanted one of the attaches here, an Anton von Hoffman, to have the information about the Cohens. I will see that he gets the information we want him to have. But, be very careful of this man in the future. He is working for the Stasi. We must look for ways to expose him, or at least neutralize him."

Rudy nodded solemnly. "It will be done, Fraulein. Froliche Weihnachten."

"Froliche Weihnachten. Auf wiedersehn," Susanne replied.

She left the kitchen and made her way to the administrative offices of the Embassy. In one she found Anton von Hoffman, thin-lipped and bored, waiting for a messenger. She identified herself as she’d been instructed and quickly told him what Colonel Richter had said. However, she mixed up the dates when he might expect the refugees to arrive. Anton nodded and handed Freiheit a bundle of papers to be delivered to Richter. Then he looked at her, still waiting. He clearly expected something more. Freiheit pulled out the envelope Colonel Richter had given her, now much thinner, and handed it to him.

"The Colonel appreciates your efforts on behalf of the Party and regrets he is not able to be more generous," Freiheit savored the disappointment in Anton’s pale face, but kept her voice impassive. "Guten Abend," ("Good Night,'") she said and walked quickly back to the Embassy’s side entrance and slipped into the night.

Freiheit returned to East Berlin without incident. But instead of going to her two room flat, she went back to the Stasi offices. Even though it was late at night, some lights burned in some of the offices.

Freiheit entered the Colonel’s suite of offices without turning on the light and tiptoed into Richter’s office. There she turned on a small desk light and pulled out the papers Anton had given her. She worked into the wee hours of the night, making copies of the documents or notes on their contents. It would be too dangerous not to deliver what Anton had given her, but at least she could alert others as to what information was being communicated to the Stasi.

It was 4:00 a.m. when she finally finished. She put the copied papers in the inside seam of her coat and returned to the front office. She sat for a while, just looking at the dark night. The young Comrade could just make out the outlines of the Berlin Wall near where, only weeks before, the young American president had stood and said, "Ich bin ein Berliner." ("I am a Berliner.")

"And I am also," she thought. "Ich bin eine Berlinerin."

But she hadn’t been always. She could hear Miriam Cohen’s voice, "Your family comes to mind quickly." Suddenly, the young woman let down her guard. It was Christmas Day and she was in East Berlin, far from home and far from any familiar faces or customs. She remembered the first Christmas she’d ever spent away from home. "When you get back, we’ll have Christmas all over again – on New Year’s Eve and on New Year’s Day," her mother had said to her.

Now all of the memories came flooding back, memories of the childhood and adolescence of a girl named Trixie Belden. Right now it was still Christmas Eve at Crabapple Farm. In the dark, the path to Crabapple Farm would be lit with luminaries, paper bags with cut-out designs and candles placed inside. She and her brothers had brought back this custom from Arizona, as a result of their first Christmas away from home. The family had liked them so much, they continued them each year after that.

Inside their snug home, Moms would be baking her pfeffernuesse cookies. Dad would be mixing up a batch of eggnog, complete with brandy for the adults, and helping himself to a nip or two as he did. Someone would slice up that hideous fruitcake Aunt Alicia sent every year and give it to Reddy. Trixie laughed. Even the fruitcake almost sounded good. Almost.

Trixie pulled her coat closer around her. Honey and Diana would come by sometime Christmas Day or in the days after. It had been three years since Trixie had disappeared into the CIA and she’d only heard scattered bits of information about her friends since then. Honey and Di were likely to be married, but she hadn’t heard.

She hadn’t heard about Jim Frayne, either. Trixie stared blindly out the window. He’d been understanding, as not many people would, that it just was something she had to do…join a secret agency and go halfway around the world and not be able to say where she was going or stay in touch. He was busy with his own plans, studying and getting experience working with young boys, working toward the day he could open a school for boys. They said they’d wait for each other. But Trixie knew that it was only natural that people went on with their lives. One tear rolled down her cheek. The night seemed impossibly dark.

Then she squared her shoulders. Miriam’s other words came back to her, "There is always a new day." There would be a new day for her, too, and for her German friends. Though she wasn’t home with family and friends tonight, she’d helped another family to gain their freedom and future. There had been some heavy losses, but tonight had been a victory. The fight was worth it.

The dark began to lighten to a dull gray. Most of the stars had fled, except one, shining above the skyline. As Trixie contemplated the sky, the door to the office opened and Colonel Richter walked in. He stopped in surprise.

"Fraule — I mean, Comrade, what are you doing here?" he asked.

"Anton had some papers he wanted you to have. I didn’t want to keep them overnight. I’ve put them on your desk," she replied, slipping back into her professional demeanor and identity.

"Very good," the Colonel walked back into his office and Comrade Freiheit heard him rustling around his desk. Then he came back into the front office, carrying a bottle of vodka and two shot glasses. "But why are you still here?" he asked.

The young woman looked out the window. "I’m waiting on the new day," she said.

He rolled his eyes in amusement at such whimsy, set the shot glasses on the windowsill, and filled both. Then he lifted his glass, "Salud!" he said.

His companion raised her glass toward the one star. "Salud!"

The End