by Arno Baker
“That’s me.”
“Yeah, I know who you are. I seen you before. You ought to know that, as an engineer, you shouldn’t be involved in handling this disposal detail.”
Jaspers wasn’t kidding and began walking to the back of the truck. Gorman was losing his patience but kept friendly.
“Come on Mr. Jaspers, please give us a break, Julie’s just hitching’ a ride back home. Wants to buy Christmas cookies in Flatbush for his kids! Right, Julie?”
Julius was too nervous to talk so he nodded, fearing that a major incident was in the offing. Jaspers opened the back and flung open the canvas and gave a cursory look spotting the Macy’s bag in a corner up front. He looked inside and saw the gift-wrap. Then after some hesitation he closed the back carefully and returned to Gorman’s side to get a signature.
“Under normal circumstances gentlemen, I would need to see permission for your friend Rosenberg to ride like this, you know. But I should be so lucky and catch a ride home too, in this kind of weather!”
Gorman was suddenly very nervous since he knew Jaspers was tough with a reputation for having a chip on his shoulder and an attitude.
“Next time no problem. Hey, Merry Christmas Mr. Jaspers!”
“I‘ll let you go this time but don’t pull this stunt again or I‘ll have to report you. Ok, both you gentlemen have a nice holiday and I hope this damn war is over with soon!”
He waved them through and Julius was silent for a while as Gorman hummed a little tune and smoked his cigarettes. Julius bought his holiday cookies at the Jewish bakery off Flatbush Avenue. After unloading at the plant Gorman drove across the Brooklyn Bridge and dropped him off behind Knickerbocker Village. Julius didn‘t show any emotion and slowly took his bag and the pastries he‘d bought.
“Gorman, you’re a gentleman and a scholar! Merry Christmas!”
The truck drove off as a few snowflakes began falling and the air grew suddenly much colder.
The answer from the Center came a week later, as Irina announced,
“They said not to use any of the secret negotiations information. Period.”
“I am not surprised. I understand that to mean that they want to hold on to that for later on, perhaps another operation.”
“It does make sense.”
“That’s why the Second Front discussion is far too technical and too long. The Soviet effort was gigantic…”
“Yes and everyone knows that by now, still in the situation we found ourselves at the time…”
He looked exhausted and was holding the sides of the table with both hands as if speaking had suddenly become an immense effort. Then in mid sentence Feklisov took a deep breath and collapsed to one side as if he had dozed off into a deep sleep. His head slipped downward resting on the dining room table as his arms dangled lifelessly on both sides of his body. Irina rushed over and was strong enough to place him flat on the floor and check his pulse. His heartbeat was going wild and she knew he was in the midst of an attack so she called for an ambulance and administered mouth to mouth pushing on his chest regularly. The medics arrived within ten minutes and gave him the first injections and an oxygen mask. After some minutes the old colonel opened his eyes and appeared surprised to be in that position. He was taken to the special KGB clinic and kept under observation for ten days. Natasha was allowed to take him home while the work on the book was interrupted for two weeks. The old spook still couldn‘t believe he had suffered a mild heart attack but he bounced back very quickly and became impatient with Natasha for being overly solicitous.
XIV
Julius arrived a few minutes ahead of the hour at around four in the afternoon. The Horn & Hardart Automat near Times Square was half empty with the usual crowd off to their Christmas Eve celebrations. He took a seat near the window and placed the package, tightly wrapped in brown paper, on the windowsill. Then he got up and poured himself a cup of coffee holding the Daily Mirror up so he could easily see the entrance. Alex went straight to the automat for a slice of apple pie and a cup of coffee. He pretended to look up and down at all the empty seats then picked a table across the aisle from Julius. Close enough so they could talk in a low voice yet removed so they could appear to be total strangers. Two attractive young women took a table nearby and were immediately immersed in conversation only occasionally glancing at the two men. Their probing eyes made Alex nervous until he realized that they could be two prostitutes on the prowl. After ten minutes of failed approaches the women got up and left and he understood how exaggerated his fears had been, no doubt the result of professional paranoia.
He waited a few minutes then said in a low voice as he handed a small box that he took out of his pocket over to Julius‘ table.
“A few small gifts for your wife and boy. The watch is for you.”
Julius opened the box and looked at the various items and the Bulova stainless steel watch.
“A stainless steel watch, fantastic! You shouldn’t have done this.”
Fomin replied mechanically as if he were reading a prepared text.
“This is only a small token of the deep appreciation the party of the working class wishes to show for your continuing valuable contribution to Soviet victory in the patriotic war.”
Julius was as grateful and enthusiastic as he usually appeared.
“Well in that case I have a bigger gift for you. It may be a bit heavy to carry but I know it‘s really worth it.”
Julius patted the package that was nestled next to him on the windowsill. But Fomin remained nervous and very serious. He was all business.
“Right after the holiday I must meet your brother in law.”
“Ok, I‘ll set it up for the 26th.”
“I will drop off precise instructions in the usual place at noon that same day.”
“Ok. I also have to tell you that I have a new prospective source. An old buddy from City College, he’s an aircraft engineer at Douglas, definitely a top man.”
Fomin became nervous but kept his voice under control while he shifted in his seat.
“Julius, you are aware of the procedure, please follow it step by step, we need full details before you are authorized to make any approach or accept any information.”
“But I’ve already dropped some hints. I gotta keep this guy interested.”
“No, no Julius, once again listen to me carefully: you must show greater respect for procedures and follow the rules to the letter! No recruitment before we thoroughly check any prospect. I must insist or threaten you with dire consequences!”
Julius looked puzzled and disappointed.
“All right, all right, but this fellow is ripe! Don’t make me lose him!”
At that point Fomin almost lost his temper since he felt Julius wasn‘t listening. He moved next to him, grabbed his sleeve and squeezed his forearm on the table.
“No, no, no! One hundred times Julius! Procedures and security are more important. Follow the procedures to the letter. I mean very closely!”
Julius became flustered and pulled his arm back.
“Ok, ok... I promise, I will.”
Still angry, Fomin tried to control himself and make up.
“Now we must enjoy the holidays. We meet again in two days as agreed. Remember the procedures.”
“Understood.”
Julius was a bit disconcerted by his case officer who could be a pleasant, understanding and even warm person and then suddenly revert to an angry hairsplitting bureaucrat of the worse kind. He still hadn‘t made up his mind whether he could work with him or not.
Fomin was still aggravated at the consulate with his gift wrapped package held together by a flashy double red ribbon. He was thinking about Julius‘ lax recruiting habits, his lack of caution and chronic inability to follow the rules. He was ready to recommend placing Julius on strict probation and even suspension even though he was producing excellent results.
Back upstairs in the NKVD section Fomin opened the package and saw the completely assembl
ed proximity fuse with the accompanying manual. After reading the first few lines of the booklet he asked Kvasnikov to come upstairs. In total silence he showed his superior the amazing device. But Kvasnikov, ever the professional spy, became immediately alarmed. He scribbled a note that they must go outside to talk freely.
“I am amazed that he was able to secure the entire device. You must check out his story very carefully in the greatest detail. The center will be more upset than pleased about this and it will be viewed with extreme suspicion. You and I could be severely reprimanded, or even worse. Actually I can almost guarantee that this will be the case!”
They walked toward the children‘s zoo looking around and they quickly agreed there was no surveillance. The FBI was chasing other villains, not the Russians in 1944. Fomin noticed the children playing on the sidewalk, then he said:
“I was very tough on Antenna. But he‘s an overly enthusiastic type, a true believer. It‘s very hard to hold someone like him back. If I become even more demanding he may get angry with me and disobey. He has done so already and continued collecting data while he was “on ice.” He’s undisciplined in every sense of the word but he is also brilliant.”
Kvasnikov listened and fiddled with some sticks the kids had left on the cobblestones near the bench at the entrance of the park. Sotto voce he almost mumbled,
“Control, comrade Fomin, it’s all about control. He is psychologically dependent upon you, remember that. You are his only link to the cause, to the future, to Marshal Stalin himself. He has severed most of his formal ties to his larger family: the Communist Party. You are his mother and his father rolled in one! Use that power the way you were instructed. Stop being impressed by his boyish enthusiasm. Most of the time, the cold vulture professional types turn out to be far more productive and effective than the true believers. It‘s precisely because they have less of an emotional investment in their work that they perform so much better. The pure volunteers, the white knights are by definition out of control. That’s why they are true believers. It’s almost mathematical. You could probably turn them into inflexible religious fanatics just as easily.”
Fomin found the logic indisputable and nodded.
“Yes comrade, I understand.”
“Prepare a full report in the greatest detail. Remember that this may be damaging to both of us, I can almost guarantee that in fact; but it must be written, and nothing should be omitted. I know Viktor will read it and give it to Beria who then will certainly forward it to Stalin. It all depends on what is on the leader‘s desk that day. So now you know where all this is taking us, my young friend.”
The idea that Stalin himself might read his report filled Fomin with pride and overwhelming fear. Anything could happen at the top. Then Kvasnikov suddenly added:
“Along with your report be sure to add your recommendation for a plan to end Antenna’s dangerous enthusiasm or at least to channel it properly.”
The answer came a few days later, just as Kvasnikov predicted.
DECRYPTED CABLE FROM MOSCOW CENTER (VIKTOR) TO KALISTRAT---XY SECTION NEW YORK--
“You are hereby severely reprimanded for a very serious breach of security regulations by ANTENNA who is to be placed on probation for no less than six months. As of this communication code name is changed to LIBERAL. Acknowledge and destroy. VIKTOR.”
Irina was back on the job two weeks after the doctors pronounced the colonel fit to return to the task and completely recovered. He had been irascible in his hospital bed and more than nasty to Natasha saying how Irina did everything possible to save his life while she, Natasha, was off sulking somewhere!
Natasha left in tears after he called her rather vulgar names and became insulting. As soon as Irina returned to work the newly invigorated colonel behaved like a wild sexual predator hungry for a woman. She had been building up to that moment and let him savor his victory over a willing prey. They made love on the living room couch and Irina was surprised by the stamina and excitement of a man past seventy… But it was to be a short first encounter as he told her that having come close to death he was now very impatient to finish the book as quickly as possible. There was a nervous tension within him that Irina had never seen before. She returned to her laptop buttoning her blouse and rearranging her hair. He sat opposite her at the other end of the long table as though nothing had happened,
“So where were we? Ah, yes! The note of reprimand! It was so unfair and both Kvasnikov and myself were terrified that we were about to be severely punished. But Fitin was a harsh task master who didn‘t want to see the rules twisted by an agent, even one as productive as Julius Rosenberg. He was intent on breaking those bad habits once and for all.”
“But what did they expect you to do, give the proximity fuse back to Julius?”
“Remember that it was the New York XY Line that was being reprimanded, namely myself as the case officer who should have disciplined Rosenberg but also my supervisor Kvasnikov for not inculcating konspiratzia effectively into my consciousness. I was the one who had to see that Antenna-Liberal “never” overstepped the rules again. So once they received the device he had smuggled out of the plant they fully expected that the FBI would take down Julius and his entire network. It could have destroyed everything we had built and caused a major incident had the Americans found out. The value of what was sent to Moscow was unimportant in the short term, security was the main issue.”
“Were you able to convince Julius?”
“In part, but you must understand, he knew how valuable the proximity fuse was, and he was right! Of all the fantastic achievements of the Rosenberg network, that fuse was the most valuable object he ever gave us, by far! When I reprimanded him Julius became sheepish saying that he understood how angry Moscow was but he insisted that they would come around once they analyzed and tested the machine! He was absolutely correct. Within one month, the reprimand was lifted much to our relief. And then we were warmly congratulated!”
XV
The train trip from New York’s Penn station was a long and grueling affair. Three days of continuous rail travel in sweltering heat to reach the desert community in New Mexico was a terrible ordeal. Besides, Harry Gold had never taken the trip before and had to follow procedures including an additional segment on the way down through Phoenix, Arizona before he could hook back to Santa Fe. The hours clicked slowly by in endless monotony with added wartime regulations and impromptu inspections on board.
He‘d met his first contact only once in Manhattan. It was on the Lower East Side where they’d both been given bizarre contact instructions by some loony NKVD handler: a red ball in the left hand, a newspaper folded in the right pocket and some absurd phrases. The rendezvous turned out all right anyway. This time he was on a dangerous double mission and was rather surprised that they‘d even ask him to kill two birds with one stone. A woman courier had suddenly become unavailable for the second pick-up and since Gold was the only trained and reliable agent to be free at the time and in the same area he was ordered to handle both. But Harry protested and pointed out how dangerous mixing two networks could be, two important sources would be seeing him a few hours apart. It was contrary to every rule in the book. But “John” insisted that it had to happen that way, they had no choice and were pressed for time and besides, the Center had suggested the infringement to the rules and approved and issued written orders, so they were covered.
The first meeting took place near a bus station in Santa Fe, another desolate desert town. There was a bridge over the railroad tracks and the contact was waiting for Gold in a parked car. After nodding to one another the agent strolled into the drugstore nonchalantly a few minutes later carrying a brown paper bag and sat next to Harry at the soda counter. He knew Gold only by his code name ‘Raymond’ and easily recognized the pudgy moon face and the sad droopy eyes as he placed the bag on the floor between them. The two quickly exchanged a few words, then after drinking a cup of coffee the man got up and left. Gold kept on reading the
paper for another ten minutes before returning to his hotel with the heavy bag that contained hundreds of handwritten pages covered with complicated mathematical and scientific formulas. He carefully packed the contents in his suitcase and checked out by noon just as the management required.
A few hours later in mid-afternoon he took a bus to Albuquerque and then a second local bus to a cluster of ranch type apartments at the other end of town. It was a sun baked strip of land without a tree in sight that made you wonder how or why humans would ever want to live there. The apartment at 209 North High Street was on the second floor of a two family house so Harry went up the steps and knocked at the door. A smallish young woman with black hair in curlers and piercing brown eyes opened after one or two minutes. She was smoking a cigarette and appeared to be very relaxed in a loose silky bathrobe. She gave Gold a probing look and didn’t appear at all surprised. Then she asked through her cigarette with an unmistakable New York accent,
“Well, are you here to see David?”
“Yes, is he at home now?”
“Sure, why don’t you come in? Would you like a cup of coffee?”
Gold felt she was expecting him but he didn’t want to make small talk, and chose to remain near the entrance once he shut the door and replied politely,
“No, no thanks.”
That‘s when David Greenglass appeared wearing a pajama top over his khaki military pants. Gold found the outfit disconcerting and concluded that he must have interrupted the couple while they were having sex.
“Hi! How can I help you?”
Gold answered quietly with his hat in his left hand,
“Julie sent me. My name is Raymond.”
Then fishing into his pocket he produced the half of the Jell-O box that Julius had cut in a jagged manner on that Sunday evening months earlier. After a second or two of hesitation he handed his half to David who suddenly became very tense and took the little piece of cardboard in his right hand. He opened a drawer in the chest in the living room and turned around with the other half making a perfect match. David looked at Gold, smiled and asked.
