Cold War Shadows
The rain in Berlin did not fall; it drifted, a grey shroud that clung to the concrete scars of the Wall. Elias sat in the dim light of a safehouse in Pankow, the smell of stale tobacco and damp wool filling the room. Across from him sat Elena. She was beautiful in a way that felt like a warning—sharp angles, eyes that had seen too many midnight interrogations, and a smile that never reached her...
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