THE LETTERS THAT NEVER ARRIVED
The rain in West Berlin does not wash things clean. It only makes theCheckpoint Charlie cobblestones slicker, turns the no-man's-land between East and West into a river of cold that seeps through boots and into bones and stays there for days. I am Hauptmann Klaus Richter, intelligence officer for the Bundesnachrichtendienst, and I have received a dossier today. Or rather, I have received a...
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