I nodded. She smiled pleasantly, stood, smiled again, and walked away, leaving me feeling vulnerable and fearful.
Chapter 115
Robert
Wednesday, September 13, 1961
Thomas Lane, Scott, and I gathered in Scott’s conference room to await Anna’s return from her first meeting with Olivia. I’d learned the previous day of Kurt’s failure to persuade the Chief of CIA Station-Berlin that he should retain control of Anna’s interface with the Stasi. Kurt told me, “Thomas Lane will personally handle every aspect of her case. We can all only hope he doesn’t fuck it up as badly as I fear he will.”
Too nervous to sit down, I paced the conference room. Scott and Thomas discussed their shared interest in college football.
Eventually, I asked Thomas Lane, “Shouldn’t Kurt Altschuler be involved in the management of Anna’s interface with the Stasi? He’s been in Berlin a long time, knows the Stasi and KGB, and knows best how to interact with them. Plus, he promised a detailed plan of action.”
“Captain Kerr, I have the training and experience required to make this sting a success. Kurt has other responsibilities.” Thomas gave me a smarmy, superior smile. “Enough said.”
“Tell me about your plan.” You bastard! I thought, wanting to punch him into the next century.
“We’ll give them correct information whenever possible—information they already have or can validate. Once the Stasi believe they have a reliable source, we feed them false and misleading data.”
Scott entered the conversation. “I thought their primary interest was in learning about Robert’s duties. Doesn’t that need to be our main thrust?”
“In my mind that is only part of our actions. This situation has exceptional potential!”
The guard escorted Anna into the conference room. She described her meeting and Olivia’s demands.
“Make the drawing as realistic as you can, it must be in your own hand,” Thomas ordered in a tone one uses with a child. “Bring it and the photo here tomorrow at 2 p.m., and we’ll review and copy everything before you hand them over on Friday.”
“Robert and Anna, remember your walls still have ears. Act out your roles.”
“We understand,” I replied.
“We have the results of your blood tests, Anna. Your water had chloral hydrate to make you unconscious. Then they gave you a shot of sodium thiopental, also known as a truth serum to make you tell them what they wanted to know.”
“Since I knew nothing about Robert’s work, they learned nothing.”
“So, you are telling me Robert has never provided details of his actual duties.”
“No. Never!”
Thomas, you idiot, you just confirmed Anna’s suspicions that I have other responsibilities! Somehow, she may let that fact slip in conversations with the Stasi lady! You’re a really dumb spy.
“Is that true?” Thomas queried with a doubtful glance.
Thomas Lane tapped my arm as the meeting concluded, “Join me in your tank. Immediately!” Once there, he ordered, “Make your presence apparent in and around the base several times a day by going out to lunch, down to the hangers, or for a walk. Any place where you’ll be seen by their watchers. Don’t go to the building unless it’s essential for your mission.”
“Now that the tunneling phase is complete, I can comply. I’ve already arranged for my senior NCOs to brief me here daily on their progress and to report any problems immediately by KY-7 scrambler telephone. I’ll only go over once or twice a week, or if they have problems.”
“Speaking of progress, how are we doing?”
Surprised by his friendly tone of voice, I said, “My construction crew has completed the CIA office and intercept floor spaces two weeks ahead of schedule; the facilities for NSA and the Air Force will be completed in about two weeks and the Army spaces about a month from now.”
“But my sources indicated that overall we are behind schedule.”
“True, the NSA employees who are responsible for tapping into the communist communications lines and bringing those connections back to the patch panels are almost two weeks behind schedule. The task was more complex than anticipated.”
“Enlighten me.”
“Originally, we assumed the only reason the Soviets and East Germans encased these particular communications cables in a galvanized pipe was nuclear hardening. Clandestine sources recently revealed there was a second reason which is to allow them to determine when someone has tapped into the cables.”
“I was informed of this, but why has it impacted the NSA technician’s efforts?”
“The pipe was pressurized to 20 psi with dry nitrogen. If the pressure drops by a detectable amount, say down around 16, 17, or even 18 psi, the bad guys would know that the pipe had been tapped. The upper sections of the telescoping shaft were designed to be watertight, but the bottom-most section stands on a concrete floor and is not. My crew attached one of our pressure pumps to the shaft, and it brings the pressure up to 20 psi anytime it drops by two psi. Since air is almost 80 percent nitrogen, none of the dry nitrogen can escape. The NSA crews must spend an hour in a decompression chamber after each seven-hour work shift, thus, decreasing the number of productive hours in a day.”
“But they’re two weeks behind schedule.”
“My crew and I’ve helped them in every way we can. They’re increasing their staffing levels, but the additional men won’t arrive for several days.”
“Washington is leaning on the CIA to begin exploiting the high-level diplomatic and military communications between and within Warsaw Pact Countries,” Thomas informed me. “You know that’s the real reason for your accelerated schedule.”
“Yes, hopefully we’ll discover what the next Russian moves will be.”
“At least, no one can blame you or your men for the delays.”
“Because they are putting in ten to twelve-hour days, my team is almost four weeks ahead of schedule on most activities. Later this week, we’ll start building the mess hall, barracks, and other facilities and remodeling the apartments. They have a big incentive—if they finish by the middle of December, they can all return home for Christmas and will not have to return after the holidays.”
Chapter 116
Friday, September 15, 1961
After her second meeting with Olivia, Anna debriefed Scott, Thomas, and me. “She looked at the front and back of the photos of Robert in his office and on the roof of the building, and she said, ‘These are exactly what we want.’ Then, she tried to take me to a nearby apartment with my drawing. I refused.”
“We had people surrounding you, but never allow anyone to get you into a vehicle or someplace where we can’t assist you,” Thomas instructed.
“As you probably know, we went to a nearby gasthaus. We spread the plans out on a large table, and I tried to incorporate my drawing into their plan.”
“Was that successful?” I asked.
“Not really. You Americans have apparently added to and modified the internal walls, so my effort was probably not of much value to them.”
“Good!” Thomas chortled.
“For our next meeting, they want more proof that Robert is the Air Force weatherman in Berlin. They’re now demanding the Tempelhof Air Force Base Phone List and Organization Chart.”
“Anna, just relax,” Thomas instructed. “They probably already have both, and this was likely a test. Their demands will never cease. They are looking for the advantage that information provides. What you give them today may be worthless, but by complying, you’re suborning yourself to their will. It’s all part of ‘The Game.’ They operate on the assumption that the next thing they get from you could be exceedingly valuable.”
Chapter 117
Tuesday, September 19, 1961
On the Saturday following Anna’s imprisonment at Stasi Headquarters, Kurt managed to get two rolls of film to Bernard. The future escapees reassembled to be photographed. Scott and I waited in my tank for him to return w
ith fifteen Belgian Passports.
Kurt entered the tank, threw a thick package onto the conference table, and muttered in disgust, “Gentlemen, we’ve wasted over a month and almost $19,000 on fifteen worthless passports!”
“Are you sure we can’t use them?” I asked, having invested all of my savings in the ten passports for Anna’s family.
“Last week, the East Germans announced that a tourist’s visa application had to be filled out by each passport holder when they enter the East. It will be date and time stamped at the point of entry. The individual must have this card and their passport in their possession any time they are stopped by a DDR official. That card is reviewed and surrendered when that person leaves East Berlin.”
“Are we sure this policy has been implemented?” I asked, hoping for time.
“My sources verified this policy went into effect last Friday. Over the last few days, several people tried to use Belgian Passports. All were arrested after being interrogated.”
Scott asked, “Ideas, gentlemen?”
After several minutes of quiet, Kurt cleared his throat. “A daring young entrepreneur who carried out several excursions into the East for me has proposed digging a tunnel for us. We pay for it. He persuades people to dig it, and our loved ones are the first to be extricated. He then gets as many paying customers out as he can.”
“Give us the details of what he’s proposing to build,” Scott said.
“Here’s a map he prepared. The tunnel he wants to dig would start in the basement of an apartment house in the British Sector and end up in a crypt in a graveyard adjacent to the border fence. A length of some 375 feet—size perhaps one-meter square. Just enough space to crawl through.”
“How much?” Scott asked.
“$50,000—200,000 West Marks. As we all know, Berlin soil must be supported during digging operations, so his cost is lumber to support the earth above the tunnel and to pay the workers.”
I don’t have any money! Even Grandpa George might have a hard time raising my share in cash!
“This guy’s smart,” Kurt continued. “He selected the site because a builder just razed a structure next door to his proposed tunnel’s entrance. That gives him a convenient place to get rid of the dirt as they excavate.”
“Platforms are being erected all along the wall so that VoPos can monitor activity on both sides of the border,” Scott said.
“At this point in time, only two fences—one barbed wire and the other chain link pass through this area. It is patrolled by VoPos and guard dogs attached to a line which runs down its center,” Kurt continued. “From the window of his recently rented apartment, one can see the large crypt that is his target. I would…”
“—Using my theodolite, I can help him establish the distance to his target,” I offered. “And I could help him get his tunnel started in precisely the right direction. Then, by using a piece of taut string, he can keep the tunnel straight and accurately determine the distance covered.”
“So that only leaves one problem. Money,” Scott declared. “I’ll go downstairs to the American Express bank and get 40,000 West marks. I’ll then have the balance owed transferred in this week. Kurt, you manage the business end of this endeavor. I’ll provide the money, and Robert will provide the technical expertise.”
Shocked, I said, “I can’t…You may never…”
Scott shook his head, “It’s settled! This’ll be our joint endeavor with each of us making a significant contribution.”
We shook hands, and that became the basis for our new escape plan.
Chapter 118
Tuesday, September 19, 1961
Thomas and I sat with Scott in his conference room, the gathering place for our Anna-Double Agent Committee meetings.
I looked at the newly modified base phone list and organization chart. Both contained the statements: ‘Last Update 1 August 1961’ and ‘OFFICIAL USE ONLY’ top and bottom. It identified me as Officer in Charge of the Berlin Weather Station, and listed Scott as the Public Information Officer.
To my surprise, I saw my organization—Detachment 1 of the 6910 Security Wing—included on the list.
Looking over at Scott, I asked, “Shouldn’t the Security Wing be left off?”
“The bad guys already know what we do here. That antenna farm on the roof of this building is a dead giveaway. Having that included gives the list authenticity. Anna’s providing verifiable information of little real value.”
Day and night, I pondered our current situation, attempting to find a solution that did not involve risk to Anna’s family. Think, Robbie, think.
Later that day I received a summons for a meeting with Colonel Morgan in his office. Mark, Kurt, and Scott were there when I arrived.
I knew that I was in trouble when Mark said, “Your recent verbal status report to Thomas has been used against us. He claims you admitted that delays in the installation of the patch panels and communications antennas on the roof were caused by your team’s incompetence.”
“I told him NSA is responsible for those activities, and I’d been informed that they were behind schedule due to staffing, technical and supplier problems.”
“Thomas Lane is using this delay in his continued effort to seize control of the tunneling program from the Triumvirate.”
“Can’t we get the truth to the decision makers?” I asked. “Certainly…”
“—Captain Kerr, you don’t seem to understand the big picture,” Colonel Morgan said. “This is a fight between the CIA and DoD over who will control the Signals Exploitation Center when it becomes operational. The CIA wants to take credit for all the valuable intelligence that’ll be derived from that facility. In a nutshell, it’s about congressional approval of future funding and prestige. All of us, but especially you and your wife are caught in the middle. Unfortunately, Thomas Lane and the CIA manage your wife’s interface with the Stasi.”
“Has this been his objective from the beginning?” I asked. “To discredit me in order to take over the tunnel?”
“I know for a fact someone high up in the CIA has been directing Lane’s efforts.” Kurt exclaimed, “I hate this political bullshit!”
“The Triumvirate will be here in two weeks,” Colonel Morgan said. “Do everything you can to meet the artificial deadline established over a year ago. It’s imperative the CIA and NSA compartments in the Signals Exploitation Center be fully operational by 1 October.
“Yes, sir!” I knew that, with some added effort, we could probably meet that deadline.
Chapter 119
Wednesday-Thursday, September 20-21, 1961
After her third meeting with Olivia, Anna returned to Scott’s conference room to report she’d had a pleasant but uneventful lunch. “Olivia wants me to search Robert’s office and steal papers from his desk, trash cans, burn bags, or file drawers.”
Thomas Lane said, “Anna, since your apartment is bugged, you need to start urging Robert to show you his office. In bed tonight, use your feminine wiles to persuade him to show you.”
In the pre-Olivia briefing the next day, Scott handed Anna a sizeable manila folder stuffed with papers. “Some of these apparently stained items were retrieved from the trash, and the crumpled ones are from a burn bag.”
“We’re just going to give them this information?” I asked.
“Everything here is classified no higher than ‘For official use only,’” Scott replied.
Thomas requested, “Anna, tell them you nagged Robert to show you his office and he smuggled you upstairs with a friendly guard’s consent. When he briefly left you alone, you tucked these items under your clothing. You might want to sprinkle a little powder or scent on it to give it an additional air of authenticity.”
She nodded. “I understand.”
“And this evening, thank Robert for showing you his office as only a wife can.”
Chapter 120
Anna
Friday, September 22, 1961
The ‘Paris in a Cup
’ Café had a table in a secluded area. It had become our standard meeting place. After pleasantries and lunch, I surreptitiously handed Olivia a folder containing the papers I had supposedly collected in Robert’s office.
“You’ll have to excuse me. Please stay here until I return.” she said, entering the adjacent women’s restroom.
I froze in shock when Dieter Holburg approached that restroom and hung a sign on the door—Nicht in Ordnung—Out of Order. He signaled for me to join him.
When I didn’t comply, Olivia returned to the table, “Join Herr Holburg immediately.”
I stood and slowly walked toward the bathroom, ready to flee at the first hint of danger.
A smug smile on Dieter’s damaged face greeted me. “I must compliment you on the excellent job you have done for us. You are now a full-fledged Stasi operative. Here is your first month’s pay. Two hundred West Marks.”
“I…I do not want your money.”
“You must take it. This seals our contract. You are now one of us.”
When I refused to take the money, he grabbed me and stuffed the notes down my blouse, groping me in the process. I shuddered with revulsion at his touch.
“Since you’re one of us, I have a present for you. It’s a tiny Minox subminiature camera and six rolls of film. Photograph everything in and around the base, including the stairs leading up to the secure areas and those areas themselves, if possible.”
“I don’t know how to use a camera!” I protested.
“You just point and press here. It is a remarkable new East German invention. It can easily be concealed in the palm of one’s hand or your purse. The perfect tool for a spy like you.”
For fifteen minutes he showed me how to use the camera and how to reload the film. “When you get to California, you will report to my friend in the Russian consulate in San Francisco. I’m sure they’ll find you very useful!”
The Berlin Tunnel Page 30
