Mzytryk sipped the vodka, waiting. “We would appreciate your help.” “You’ve always got my help,” Abdollah said. “But to find two expert saboteurs in Azerbaijan who are certain to be disguised by now is almost an impossibility. They’re bound to have safe houses to go to - there’s a British consulate in Tabriz, and dozens of routes out of the mountains that would bypass us.” He got up and went to the window and stared out of it. From here he could see the 206 parked in the forecourt under guard. The day was still cloudless. “If I’d been leading that operation I’d pretend to head for Tabriz, but then I’d double back and go out by the Caspian. How did they go in?”
“Caspian. But they were tracked this way. Two bodies were found in the snow, and tracks of the two others headed this way.”
The failure of the Sabalan venture had sent a tremor of rage up the line. That there was so much CIA top secret equipment so near at hand had been a magnet for covert acquisition and infiltration for many years. In the last two weeks information that some of the radar posts had been evacuated but not destroyed in the retreat and panic they had helped foster, had had the hawks ready to move in immediately, in strength. Mzytryk, senior counselor in this area, had advised caution, to use locals rather than Soviet teams so as not to antagonize Abdollah Khan - his exclusive contact and prize agent - nor risk an international incident.
“It’s totally unwise to risk a confrontation,” he had said, keeping to the Book - and his private plan. “What do we gain by immediate action - if we’ve not been fed disinformation and Sabalan’s not one great booby trap which is probable? A few cipher books that we may or may not already have. As to the advanced computers - our whole Operation Zatopek has that well in hand.” This was a highly controversial and innovative KGB covert operation - named after the Czech long-distance runner - set up in ‘65. With an initial budget of $10 million of terribly scarce foreign currency, Operation Zatopek was to acquire a continuing supply of the most advanced and best Western technology by simple purchase through a network of bogus companies and not by the conventional and very expensive method of theft and espionage. “The money is nothing compared to the gains,” his top secret initial report to Center had said when he had first returned from the Far East in ‘64. “There are tens of thousands of corrupt businessmen and fellow travelers who will sell us the best and the most up to date for a profit. A huge profit to any individual would be a pittance to us - because we will save billions in research and development which we can spend on our navy, air force, and army. And, just as important, we save years of sweat, toil, and failure. At almost no cost we maintain parity with anything their minds can conceive. A few dollars under their rotten little tables will get us all their treasures.”
Petr Mzytryk felt a glow when he remembered how his plan had been accepted - though naturally and rightly taken over by his superiors as their idea, as he had taken it from one of his own deep-cover agents in Hong Kong, a French national called Jacques de Ville in the big conglomerate of Struan’s who had opened his eyes: “It’s not against U.S. law to ship technology to
France or West Germany or a dozen other countries, and not against these countries’ laws for a company to ship it on to other countries where there are no Swiss laws against shipping goods to the Soviet Union. Business is business, Gregor, and money makes the world go around. Through Struan’s alone we could supply you tons of equipment the U.S. has forbidden you. We service China - why not you? Gregor, you seafarers don’t understand business….”
Mzytryk smiled to himself. In those days he had been known as Gregor Suslev, captain of a small Soviet freighter that plied from Vladivostok to Hong Kong, his cover for his top secret job of deputy controller for Asia for the KGB’s First Directorate.
Over the years since ‘64, when I first proposed the scheme, he thought so proudly, with a total outlay so far of $85 million, Operation Zatopek has saved Mother Russia billions and provided a constant, ever-growing flow of NASA-, Japanese-, and European-developed gadgetry, electronic marvels, hardware, software, plans, robots, chips, micros, medicines, and all manner of magic to duplicate and manufacture at our leisure - with equipment developed by the same enemy, and bought and paid for with loans they provide that we’ll never repay. What fools they are!
He almost laughed out loud. Even more important, Zatopek gives me a free hand to continue to operate and maneuver as I choose in this area, to play the Great Game the stupid British let slip from their grasp. He watched Abdollah Khan standing at the window, waiting patiently for him to decide on the favor he wanted in return for catching the saboteurs. Come on, Bad Fats, he thought grimly, using his secret nickname for him, we both know you can catch those matyeryebyets if you want to - if they’re still in Azerbaijan.
“I’ll do what I can,” Abdollah Khan said, still with his back to him, and Mzytryk did not hide his smile. “If I intercept them, what then, Petr?” “Tell Cimtarga. He will make all arrangements.”
“Very well.” Abdollah Khan nodded to himself and came and sat down again. “That’s settled, then.”
“Thank you,” Petr said, very satisfied. Such finality from Abdollah Khan promised quick success.
“This mullah we were discussing, Mahmud,” the Khan said, “he’s very dangerous. Also his band of cutthroats. I think they’re a threat to everyone. The Tudeh should be directed to deal with him. Covertly, of course.”
Mzytryk wondered how much Abdollah knew about their secret support for Mahmud, one of their best and most fanatic converts. “The Tudeh must be guarded, and their friends too.” He saw the immediate flash of irritation, so he compromised and added at once, “Perhaps this man could be moved and replaced - a general split and fratricide would only help the enemy.” “The mullah’s a false mullah and not a true believer in anything.” “Then he should go. Quickly.” Petr Mzytryk smiled, Abdollah Khan didn’t. “Very quickly, Petr. Permanently. And his group broken.”
The price was steep, but the Section 16/a gave him authority enough. “Why not quickly and permanently, since you say it’s necessary? I agree to, er, pass on your recommendation.” Mzytryk smiled and now Abdollah Khan smiled, also satisfied.
“I’m glad we agree, Petr. Become a Muslim for your eternal soul.” Petr Mzytryk laughed. “In time. Meanwhile, become a Communist for your earthly pleasure.”
The Khan laughed, leaned forward, and refilled Petr’s glass. “I can’t persuade you to stay for a few days?”
“No, but thanks. After we’ve eaten, I think I’ll start back for home.” The smile broadened. “There’s a lot for me to do.”
The Khan was very content. So now I can forget the troublesome mullah and his band and another tooth’s been drawn. But I wonder what you would do, Petr, if you knew your saboteur captain and his saboteur soldier were on the other side of my estate, waiting for safe passage out? But out to where? To Tehran or to you? I haven’t yet decided.