Page 49 of Cry Havoc
“Why do you assume it’s a man? And why assume it is just one person?”
The old man still had lessons to teach.
Dvornikov nodded to concede the points. It was best to temper his approach with just the right amount of humility to offset his intentionalarrogance, which he knew translated as confidence to the man across the table.
“Did you read the Philby article in theMoscow Timeslast year?” the director asked.
“I did.”
“He said the purpose of his life was what?”
“?‘To destroy imperialism,’?” Dvornikov responded.
“That’s right. He’s dining with Melinda Maclean, Don Maclean’s wife. Quite incestuous. Shouldn’t come as a surprise. Don Maclean is bisexual. Burgess and Blunt are gay, though at first we didn’t know if they were homosexual or just British. The Brits make it hard to tell at times. Never needed to use that against them. They were quite open about it. Do you know why they got away with it for so long, the spying I mean?”
“The arrogance of the British aristocracy?”
“Certainly, but there was another factor.”
“Which was?”
“Theybelievedin what they were doing. None of them did it for money. Maclean was the most valuable; led the British Foreign Office’s American Department.”
“We should put the Trinity College staff at Cambridge on our payroll.”
“Perhaps they already are, Major.”
Dvornikov chuckled.
The director continued, “Philby was friendly with James Angleton you know, and now the CIA’s counterintelligence chief is obsessed with finding the American Philby. One day he just might, though he’s looking in the wrong division. We have an advantage. Both the UK and the U.S. are open societies. That gives us much more room to maneuver. Here, if I suspect someone is a spy, they spend time in the basement of the Lubyanka or at a work camp in Siberia. No individual rights or Constitution to contend with.”
The director’s threat was only slightly veiled in that his tone remained as constant as it had been discussing Philby.
“Now, I am sure you are not here to listen to me pontificate on the advantages of communism and collectivization or the sexual predilections and habits of spies and defectors.”
A waiter approached to clear the table.
“Vodka?” the GRU director asked his uninvited guest.
“Please,” Dvornikov said, even though he couldn’t stand the stuff. The one benefit of running the Southeast Asia desk was the ability to acquire Mekhong whiskey from Thailand. It was marketed as a whiskey when it was actually a spirit distilled from molasses and rice. Admitting his preference for the Spirit of Thailand over thegoryashchee vinoor burning wine favored by his countrymen was unnecessary. A Russian who preferred another liquor to vodka must be suspect. Who knew, in the future that might change, and with his network in Asia maybe he could import and distribute Mekhong liquor in the Soviet Union and their satellite states. But that was for another day.
“Now, what was of such importance that you found it necessary to track me down this evening?”
“As I said, we have a problem.”
“Do you come with a solution or just a problem?”
“The Americans have an NVA prisoner being moved from Da Nang to Saigon.”
“Why does this concern us?”
“He is a colonel, and he knows about the upcoming offensive. Colonel Phúc Trân, NVA military intelligence.”
“I see.”
“As you know, the upcoming Tet attacks were coordinated using a physical network of assets. No radio transmissions. Our assessment is that as of now we have the advantage of a complete surprise. The Americans, primarily at the CIA, who have warned of a pending attack have been ignored. We believe that General Westmoreland and President Johnson prefer the more positive reports coming out of Saigon.”
The waiter returned and placed a glass in front of the major, pouring in two fingers from the bottle at the table. The two men waited until he had retreated before resuming their conversation.
