The Face in the File

The rain fell softly as Jessica stepped from the plane onto the cold tarmac at Berlin Brandenburg Airport. The sky overhead was slate gray, streaked with darker clouds like ink bleeding through old parchment. She pulled her coat tighter, fighting a chill that had less to do with the weather than with memories buried deep beneath the city itself.

Berlin had never been easy for Jessica. The streets here whispered secrets older than she was, secrets of spies, double agents, and wars fought in shadows. Last time she’d been here, she’d faced Mr. Black at the abandoned ICC, a meeting that still haunted her quiet nights. She remembered the cigarette smoke curling through cold air, his calm voice dripping with manipulations and half-truths.

As they approached the car rental desk, Jessica felt Leanna’s gaze rest lightly on her, sensing the unspoken unease.

“You okay?” Leanna asked softly, taking their paperwork from the clerk.

Jessica offered a faint, weary smile. “Just old ghosts.”

Leanna nodded thoughtfully. “This city’s full of them.”

They climbed into the rented Audi, Olivia taking the wheel as Jessica slid into the backseat, glancing out the window as the city passed by. Rain streaked the glass, blurring the buildings outside. It was a fitting metaphor, she thought, everything in this city always half-hidden, always distorted.

Leanna twisted around slightly from the passenger seat. “The bank building’s in Mitte, not far from Alexanderplatz. Last I checked, it’s mostly empty offices now.”

Olivia nodded as she drove smoothly through the rain-slicked streets. “Minimal security, probably cameras. We’ll do a recon first, then decide our approach.”

Jessica stared thoughtfully at the passing landmarks. The Brandenburg Gate loomed large through the rain-streaked window, powerful and imposing, its presence a reminder of Berlin’s complicated history.

“Last time I was here,” Jessica murmured softly, almost to herself, “Black told me there’s no such thing as leaving the game.”

Olivia glanced at her through the rearview mirror, her eyes gentle. “And now?”

Jessica turned from the window, meeting Olivia’s gaze evenly. “Now, I think he was wrong. We always have a choice. We just have to be strong enough to make it.”

They drove on in silence, the quiet understanding between them comforting despite the oppressive gloom of the city. When they finally arrived at the building, Olivia parked discreetly on a side street. The structure was unassuming, concrete walls faded and stained, graffiti scrawled across a sealed entryway. A worn sign in German hung crookedly above a side door, a forgotten relic of East Berlin’s bureaucratic past.

“Looks abandoned,” Olivia said cautiously, studying the building through binoculars. “Probably just a caretaker or maintenance crew occasionally.”

“Perfect hiding place,” Leanna added quietly, eyes narrowing. “Just enough activity to avoid suspicion, just enough neglect to hide secrets.”

Jessica watched the building quietly, a thousand possibilities swirling through her mind. She wondered, not for the first time, what it was she was really chasing. Answers? Redemption? Or was she just trying to outrun the ghosts she carried with her?

“Jessica,” Leanna said softly, interrupting her thoughts. “We don’t have to do this tonight. We can plan, get some rest first.”

Jessica shook her head slowly. “No. Let’s get this done. I don’t want to give whoever’s following this trail any more time.”

Leanna nodded, understanding, then glanced at Olivia. “What do you think? side door?”

“Side door’s best,” Olivia agreed. “Quietest way in. Probably alarmed, but old buildings like this have blind spots.”

Jessica took a steadying breath, feeling the reassuring weight of the handgun tucked carefully beneath her jacket. Not that she expected trouble, not tonight, anyway, but old habits died hard.

They slipped out of the car and crossed the street quickly, the rain lightly pelting their jackets. At the side door, Olivia knelt to examine the lock, carefully testing its sturdiness. Jessica watched silently, her pulse steady, her mind clear and calm.

Within minutes, Olivia had the door unlocked, pushing it open slowly. A musty draft whispered out, carrying scents of mold and stale paper, a subtle hint of abandonment. Jessica stepped inside first, flashlight in hand, sweeping the dim corridor carefully. It stretched forward into darkness, lined with faded doors and peeling paint, echoes of another era.

“Feels like we stepped back in time,” Leanna murmured softly from behind her.

Jessica nodded, her voice barely audible. “This city’s good at that.”

They moved down the hallway quietly, their footsteps muffled by thick layers of dust. Olivia had located the former vault area on old architectural plans. There was a reinforced door halfway down the corridor. It stood silent and sealed, an unyielding sentinel of forgotten secrets.

Olivia approached the door slowly, inspecting it. “Looks original,” she whispered. “Probably hasn’t been opened since the fall.”

Jessica reached carefully into her pocket, pulling out the old brass key. The metal felt cool and heavy in her palm, worn smooth by someone else’s fingers long ago. She slipped it carefully into the lock, her breath steady, hands strangely calm.

“Moment of truth,” Leanna said softly, tension barely audible beneath her controlled tone.

Jessica turned the key slowly, the mechanism clicking faintly, almost hesitant. With a slight push, the door eased open, revealing rows of forgotten safety deposit boxes, untouched for decades. Dust danced gently in the beam of her flashlight as Jessica stepped forward, eyes tracing the boxes carefully until she matched the faded number on the key.

Her heart quickened slightly as she slid the key into the tiny lock and opened the narrow metal drawer. Inside lay a single file, thick and bound in faded paper. Its surface bore an old stamp: Ministerium für Staatssicherheit – STASI.

Jessica gently lifted the folder from its resting place, opening it carefully. Her eyes scanned pages filled with typewritten German text, annotations, and black-and-white photographs. A cold dread pooled slowly in her stomach as one image caught her eye, a face unmistakably familiar, unmistakably young, yet timelessly cold.

Mr. Black.

“Jessica?” Olivia’s voice was barely audible, concerned. “What is it?”

Jessica stared down at the photograph, feeling the carefully constructed calm start to slip. The implications were impossible to ignore. Mr. Black had not aged in decades; his manipulation stretched further than she’d ever imagined.

“He was right,” Jessica murmured softly, almost bitterly, her voice echoing gently against the concrete walls. “The war never ended.”

Leanna and Olivia exchanged quiet glances, uncertain, watching Jessica carefully. She closed the folder slowly, determination flickering back into her eyes.

“But he was wrong about one thing,” she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. “We can still choose how we fight it.”

Jessica turned slowly back toward her friends, conviction steady in her voice. “Let’s get out of here. We have work to do.”

Together, they left the darkness behind, stepping out once more into the cold Berlin rain, moving forward, not as pawns, but as women who knew exactly what they were fighting for, and exactly what they stood to lose.