"Not a problem," Grant interrupted.
"My original assignment had been completed. I was to become a part of the inner circle of chemists and biologists hand-picked by the Soviets and East German military command. Since the Company was already aware that the project was being backed and funded by the Russians, the last part of the assignment was to get the entire formula for the virus and drug, then get the hell out. What the Company was going to do with them wasn't my concern. Then, I received new instructions. I was to somehow infiltrate… "
"Let me guess," Grant interrupted, "the FSG, the infamous Freiheiten Soldaten Gruppe, the Freedom Soldiers Group."
"You already know about them, too?"
Grant nodded, with his face reflecting obvious disgust.
Lampson fumbled with a teaspoon in the saucer. "Word was that they were trying to get the drug, and the Company wanted to know how much they knew about it. Specifically, I had to name names, find out who the leader was. So, I started hanging out at beer halls and cafes where we suspected they frequented, dropping words here and there that I was disgruntled with having to live under Russian rule."
"That could've gotten you arrested, if not killed."
"Yeah, well, it got me in the door, and that's what I was after. Eventually, I was approached by Klaus Steiner, the leader. Initially, he never gave details of his intentions for using the drug."
"And their reason for selecting the drug over the virus," Grant added, "was because the virus is too unstable. One whiff and it's over. Steiner couldn't risk it."
“Right. So, I gradually began passing bits and pieces of the formula to Steiner, some false, some not. I expected he'd eventually take me wholly into his confidence and bring me to their lab."
"Did he?"
"If you mean take me to the lab? No. And he trusted me as much as he trusted anyone, which isn’t a whole lot."
"Who's working at the lab?"
"Von Wenzel and Heisen were, shall we say, 'recruited' by the FSG. Von Wenzel and I got to be good friends while he was working at the university. It was only after the Company gave me orders to find out about the FSG that I discovered he was working for Steiner, and only because he voluntarily told me. And in case you're wondering, Captain, I can assure you that neither of those men were willing participants. Von Wenzel was one who did take me into his confidence and told me threats had been made against them and their families."
With a raised eyebrow Grant responded sarcastically, "No surprise there. Did Von Wenzel know it was you who was passing information to Steiner?"
Lampson shook his head. "No one knew."
"But… weren't they afraid of being followed by the military or the STASI (East German state security)?"
"With the threats being made against their families, I guess the STASI felt that was enough."
"Can't imagine the STASI taking that attitude." There wasn't a doubt in Grant's military mind that the scientists' homes were bugged. He was well acquainted with the East German organization. They conducted foreign intelligence in West Germany and even monitored activities of their own citizens. As far as their effectiveness among Soviet bloc intelligence organizations, they were second only to the KGB.
"Any idea where the lab is, Rick?"
"No, only that it's somewhere within the city."
Grant rubbed his chin, already picturing answers to his next question. "Did you use dead drops to pass the info?"
"Yeah. The usual way… books left on park benches with certain pages marked, notes left in waterproof pouches that I weighted down with small rocks and dropped into trash cans or buried, and always at different locations. Never saw anybody, though. Guess I should have made an effort and hung around."
"You did exactly what you were supposed to do, Rick. You could've jeopardized yourself and your mission. You were probably followed by Steiner's man and possibly the East Germans." Grant's respect for the Company was still just about nil. The 'Cowboys in Action.’ Christ! Sending an inexperienced agent to fill such a critical mission seemed preposterous.
Lampson smiled, nervously patting his pockets. Cigarette smoke drifted through the room, heightening his craving. "I couldn't be lucky enough for you to have a cigarette, could I?"
"Sorry. Never touch the stuff."
"Just as well."
"I'm assuming you didn't write down the formula, right?" Lampson responded with a nod and pointed to his head. "Rick, did Greta know you were involved with the FSG?"
"No! Absolutely not!" he answered in a loud whisper. "I tried like hell to keep her shielded from anything that could put her in danger." He nearly choked on his words. "I guess I didn't do a very good job."
"Look, you can't just assume that something's happened to her, Rick." A waiter approached their table, carrying a silver coffee pot. Grant motioned him away, then took a quick look at Adler. The side of his mouth curved up into a brief smile as he watched Joe partake in his own private breakfast buffet. The coffee cup was on the left side of his plate.
Lampson rotated the white china cup in its saucer, seemingly mesmerized by the beads of oil floating on the coffee's surface. He jerked his head up when he heard Grant's low pitched, authoritative voice.
"Come on, Rick. You've gotta keep it together."
"Yeah, I know. I know." He coughed and cleared phlegm from his throat, then he raised a glass of water to his lips and swallowed a mouthful. "Where was I? Oh, yeah. The final phase of my assignment was to find out what Steiner planned on doing with the drug. They're going right for the big guns, Captain. Their timeframe called for them to have the final product ready in order to strike the first blow during a conference in Moscow. Their sights are set on the Kremlin first and then KGB Headquarters."
That got Grant's attention. He pushed himself back against the thick leather chair. "Christ! Talk about having balls!" he muttered. Then, he leaned forward, staring at his fists resting on the table while he thought out loud. "The highest Russian officials, the powerful KGB… all in la-la land, or dead, in one fell swoop. Sounds like a perfect time for a military coup, taking into consideration the feelings the military and Politburo have for each other." Grant suddenly went silent. He seemed to be looking right through Lampson, as his mind reviewed the words he'd just spoken. File it, Stevens, he told himself.
His eyes refocused on the CIA agent who was now staring back at him. "Uh, sorry, Rick. I was doing some mental filing. Now, how? Do you know how they'll carry out their plan?"
"Simple." Lampson spread his hands out in front of him. "Someone will slip it into water, tea, any liquid that's been brought into the conference hall. Of course, there's always the possibility the Kremlin's entire water supply system could be contaminated."
"Hmm. That would kinda take all the fun out of it, wouldn't it? I mean, there'd be nobody to negotiate with."
"It was just a thought," Lampson smirked. "I can only assume that Steiner will immediately make contact with, oh, let's say, President Dropovsky. He'll tell him to stop in and take a look at the meeting's participants. Then, all he has to do is threaten more widespread use of the drug unless the Russians get their fuckin' asses out of East Germany."
"Ah, the plot thickens."
"Just the beginning, I'm afraid. The group will announce that the East Germans are in it with them."
"World opinion will certainly side with the Russians,” Grant commented, “even when it's made known that the project was being funded by them."
Lampson shook his head. "Three weeks later, several villages throughout East Germany will have their water supplies contaminated with the drug… very heavily contaminated."
"Let me guess," Grant said as he propped his elbows on the table, grinding his knuckles against his palm. "The world will assume the Russians are retaliating. A meeting of the Security Council will be called. All parties involved will be condemned by the United Nations."