“Ask,” he said. “Please.”
“Do you have any contacts who deal in international undercover work?”
“Yes.”
“I need the best person you can find,” I said.
“Talk to me.”
“While you and Dorene were living in Moscow, we all knew about the arrests that were taking place, but they are much worse than anyone who hasn’t been inside the labor camps can imagine. A great man, a Trotskyist named Commander Koskinen, told me that in 1934 there were approximately five hundred thousand people in the prison camps. But, he told me that beginning in 1937 at least one in every twenty people in the Soviet Union was being arrested.”
“Good Lord,” said Bobby.
“He referred to it as the ‘Great Terror.’ Just before I left Magadan, Commander Koskinen claimed that their census showed that, as of the end of 1938, approximately two million people were in the prison camps. And the number of people who’d already been executed by then was even greater. Ambassador Bullitt couldn’t have known of the earlier number, and Ambassador Davies certainly must not have known of the latter.”
“I would think not,” said Bobby.
“In fact, I read where Ambassador Davies reported back to Washington that he’d seen some of the show trials. He claimed they were legitimate, and that only real criminals were being tried and convicted. Davies seemed all too keen on kissing Stalin’s ass. I guess Davies simply didn’t want Americans back home to know what was happening in the Soviet Union. But he did the president a disservice. His ambassadorship was an absolute embarrassment, and I believe he has blood on his hands. Son of a bitch!”
“My head is spinning, Press,” said Bobby. “Those numbers are astronomical. This is a fucking extermination.”
“It involves a company called the Dalstroi, and Stalin’s plan to do a myriad of things, which I’ll explain later. But it’s insanity. And somehow, someway, I managed to get out. I don’t for a second expect you or anyone else to negotiate my family’s release, as the politics—”
“Screw that!” said Bobby. “We’re going straight to the embassy to cable the president.”
“No! We absolutely can’t! If our government even broaches the issue, I’ve been told they will execute Loretta and the kids. Besides, Roosevelt can’t open that can of worms. There are many Americans in the prisons, Bobby. And I’m smart enough to know where securing the release of American expatriates ranks on Roosevelt’s long list. He got reelected in ’36 to handle the Depression. And he’s also got this monster named Hitler to deal with. Hell, you spoke of extermination earlier. Koskinen says Hitler wants to exterminate everyone on earth who isn’t part of the Aryan race. I’m sure the president sees the value of having Stalin on his side as Hitler threatens the world. I understand the politics.”
“I don’t want Loretta and the children to spend another second in prison,” said Bobby, wiping his wet eyes. “And just how did you manage to magically talk your way out—”
“I agreed to spy for Stalin. I told the Kremlin I would gather information from within the U.S. Embassy and have it delivered via train on the first Monday of every month. I have a contact here, a German communist who’ll deliver a briefcase to Valga. But, of course, I have no intention of gathering legitimate intelligence. I just need to buy time until I can execute my plan.”
“What plan, Press?”
“That’s where your international man comes into play. But first, can you help me buy time? Can we manufacture some plausible intelligence to hand over to Stalin?”
“Of course,” said Bobby. “We can send them some fabricated shit every month that will be solid enough to keep the waters calm. Just tell me your plan.”
“It involves trying to track down some targets in Riga, Latvia. I’ve written it all down while I was on the train. I’m still working through the logistics of the entire idea, but I know I need help finding these Latvians. If memory serves me correct, I recall the U.S. having good relations with Latvia. Has anything changed since ’37?”
“No,” said Bobby. “We have an Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary there now named John C. Wiley.”
“Who is your international man?” I said.
“I’m thinking of an old Military Intelligence veteran named Dallas Conrad. He does off-the-books intelligence work for high-paying clients.”
“I’ll pay you back. Just make sure—”
“Don’t you dare say that,” said Bobby. “I will take care of this, and I will spare no expense. Just tell me what you have in mind.”
“I’ve actually said all I want to say about my plan at this juncture. Saying anything more today is pointless, because if the targets don’t exist, the plan is dead. If they do exist, I simply need this Dallas fellow to locate them.”
“What if they don’t exist, Press?”
“I have a plan B, but I don’t want to even discuss it until we exhaust this one. I’m afraid if I tell you anything more about either idea, you’ll try and stop me. And I can’t afford a moment of delay.”
“Done,” said Bobby. “I’ll track Dallas down through some Military Intelligence friends of mine. I’ll cable them today. I believe the old veteran works out of Paris now. But once I make contact with Dallas, I’ll have him meet us in Brussels. We can do no communicating regarding the specifics of this via cable or telephone. The Nazis have all modes of communication under surveillance. Besides, Dallas knows that anyone from a U.S. embassy contacting him about a sit-down is code enough for it to be worth his time.”
“Excellent,” I said. “I know that you are here to do a very important job at the embassy. Try to focus on it. Try to be present with Dorene and the children, too. Tell them the divorce story and I’ll play along. I’m here to be your interpreter and assistant as planned. I just need something in that briefcase every month.”
“There is nothing in this world that could stop me from exhausting every option possible to help you, Press.”
“Thank you,” I said. “Judging from how Loretta and Ginger looked, and how sick James has been, I don’t think they’ll make it much longer. Plus, I don’t believe the head of their camp, a man named Colonel Ivan Zorin, will treat them well. Zorin is the head of MR4 Labor Camp where Loretta and Ginger have been all this time. James is there now, too. And he’s having trouble with his lungs, something that truly has me worried… but back to Zorin. He is an animal of a man, the worst—a notorious executioner. I don’t think he cares if my family lives, even though the Kremlin sees them as leverage. They have every reason to believe I will do legit spy work based on this. Why wouldn’t they? They know I can’t have you all negotiate anything.”
“True,” said Bobby. “As far as they’re concerned, they’ve got you by the balls.”
“But back to Zorin,” I said. “He knows that even if my family dies because of his inability to keep from being a monster, he’d just lie and tell me they were still alive. And let’s say they do live, and I complete this job, and Stalin releases us, he’d never let us leave the Soviet Union. We’d be monitored for the rest of our lives. He wouldn’t want me, an embassy employee, to tell the world about his death camps. I know I’m risking it all with this move, but it’s all I’ve got. I’m desperately trying to hold on here for dear life and the big clock is ticking.”
When February 6th arrived, I sat outside on the patio at the Golden Café sipping my coffee and finishing up a plate of toast, scrambled eggs, and cold salami. The entire block was busy, just as Colonel Zorin had predicted, and across the way at the Blue Lion, I assumed, sat my contact, Dieter. Wherever he lived wasn’t far from me. I had secured a tiny, furnished apartment just up the block.