This is Chapter One of My Novel About a Soviet Agent in Place in the Early 1970s United States. More Chapters will be Blogged in the Near Future
2 April 1973
Genady watched the ants work tirelessly about their hill, servicing the colony. The shiny brown bodies glistened in the sun, as they scurried up the mottled sand they had dug out, running in and out of the nest, never appearing to tire of doing their tasks, whatever those tasks were. He was not an entomologist, and he had no idea what they were doing, but he had always been fascinated by insects. As a young boy on a collective farm in the Ukraine, he had often been accused of being a slacker when he stole away to the woods to observe beetles and ants, and in the spring caterpillars and butterflies.
Single ants were peeling off from the colony now, exploring, perhaps seeking food. Genady sat on the rock he had chosen, as still as a statue, watching two individual ants as they continued to diverge from the colony. Soon the two ants' paths separated, and he had trouble following both, so he concentrated on one.
He glanced at his watch, a cheap Citizen Rolex look alike. It was almost 10:40. He began scanning the dusty tan dirt road in the distance. Slowly standing, he moved to the right with almost imperceptible steps. He occasionally glanced down, doing his best not to step on any ants, but his attention was primarily reserved for the distance, where there might be surveillance. Occasionally he rotated his body in a full circle, but he was not terribly worried about what lay behind. Perhaps fifty feet behind him was a near sheer rock wall covered with scrub growth. Springs ran out of the rock at various points, making a quiet, soothing trickling noise. Between him and the wall was dense growth. Anyone trying to get close would have to work their way through the heavy trees, bushes, and vines, making an awful racket. There was only one good line of approach, and that was from ahead. Hopefully the kid had not lost his nerve. He was too important to lose, though some recruits just did not work out.
Patience was a critical part of his job. Patience and precision. And you must definitely be a believer. Working in the West was not for the faint of heart.
He was now safely away from the ant colony. His eyes scanned the distance. There was no horizon, just brown tangles of trees, mostly devoid of leaves in the early spring, running well up into the puffy clouds. A few trees had a hint of green as the leaves started to peek out. He kept his eyes on the tan strip that was the dirt fire road criss-crossing the park. "As long as the kid comes, I wouldn't mind waiting another hour in this place. It's beautiful," he thought. But he was kidding himself. Once the time was near, his mind went to business.
He did not have long to wait. He caught a slight movement in the trees. At first he could see it only occasionally, but unless he was very unlucky, this would be his man. Soon he could see the movement almost continuously as it broke and reappeared from behind the trees. When he could discern the shape of a car he became pleased. The kid was following directions. He had told him to drive slowly, so as not to throw up a cloud of dust and attract attention.
Eventually the car came to a stop in plain view. Genady had left a marker for the kid. He got out, removed a white ribbon tied to a small sapling, and buried it at the base of the tree. Then he leaned against his car for a few minutes before walking into the woods. "Good job, kid," Genady thought, "this is a promising start. May we have many fine years together."
Genady had instructed the kid to wait by his car for a few minutes. That gave the case officer time to observe for possible followers. Then the kid was to start walking into the woods until he was met. The kid was clearly not at home in the forest. He tripped, and grasped for hand holds in the awkward footing. He kept looking down and around as his feet slipped and were turned by the uneven ground. He was wearing street shoes, and began to look a bit breathless. Genady waited until the kid had gotten deep enough into the woods to look concerned. Then he began walking toward him, and called out. "Howard, over here." The kid smiled immediately. Genady gave him a big smile back, and he smiled inside. It was good for this young man to see his handler as a father figure. "Hi, Allie. I thought you weren't coming!" "Oh, don't you worry," said Genady, in his most reassuring voice. “I will always come.” He had just the slightest trace of accent from his native Ukraine, courtesy of a special school where the KGB ensures that its handlers can function in the West. It was a reassuring voice. Genady had no need to "pass" as an American, but he spoke with a deep, nearly accent free voice that communicated to westerners that he could be "one of them." His cover story had his place of birth as the Farøe Islands.
"Come, Howard, I've brought a snack. Let's talk, but you mustn't stay too long." Genady found a place where they could both sit on relatively clean rocks. He pulled out two small bottles of mineral water, two French pastries, and two napkins. "Here, try these, they are very good. Now what have you brought me?" The young man handed over his small backpack, and waited for Genady to look inside. Genady turned to him. "I will look. You eat." Howard opened the bottle, took a long draw, and went to work on the pastry.
Genady had selected something especially good, both in taste and appearance. He wanted the kid to feel special. It was working.
He turned his attention to the backpack, carefully unzipping it, and emptying its contents to the bed of dried leaves at his feet. The contents consisted of dozens of packages of cards, about three by seven inches in size, sealed in clear cellophane. The cards were covered with little holes spaced at random intervals. Each card had a name such as USXYZ 4756A. They were all stamped TOP SECRET. Many had additional code words on them. He couldn't tell exactly how many cards were in a package, but he assumed about a month's worth. In any case, that was not his affair.
This was excellent. To the extent of the evidence at hand, the kid had followed all instructions to the letter. It was impossible to know whether he had followed all instructions while on the ship, but he seemed very eager to please, and bright enough to do so. He turned back to the kid, who had finished the pastry, and was sipping the last of his mineral water.
Before he spoke, Genady held his breath and listened. He slowly moved his head, but mostly his eyes, looking for surveillance. He saw nothing. A pro wouldn't give himself away, except - humans can and do make mistakes. If he were under surveillance, it would not matter whether he knew it or not. Done is done. Still, better to know sooner.
Finally, he smiled at the kid and spoke. "This is excellent, Howard. It's just what is needed." He never made this stuff seem about his country. It would always be a transaction between the kid and his handler. The kid's face lit up with the sign of approval. "I used the system that you told me," the kid said, "and it worked just like you said it would." Howard was anxious to describe his success. Genady was hesitant to prolong the meeting, but it was important to ensure that his agent was properly prepared. Most of all, the agent must never feel let down by his handler. He let him talk for a bit. "The alternate didn't know the difference when I slipped all the cards out and told him that the radiomen had already destroyed them. It all went just as you said it would."
The kid was starting to get a little worked up, and he was repeating himself. Genady gave him a big smile and a few professorial nods of the head, then interrupted. "This is perfect, Howard. You've gotten the system down right away. There are still some things we need to discuss, though, and it isn't safe for us to meet for too long, or too often." The kid nodded. "Before we discuss these, I want to let you know that you have definitely advanced the cause of world peace, and if you think I am kidding, let me assure you that I am not. In the event of great tensions between our two countries, what you are doing will enable our fleet commanders to contact your fleet commanders, even when the politicians may not permit it. This could help avoid nuclear war. That’s why it is so critical that you keep this strictly between you and me. It is not the kind of thing that ordinary folks approve of." "I understand," the kid said. He wore what was probably the most serious look he had in his sea bag. "The kid couldn't have looked more earnest the first time he got laid," Genady thought. This was one serious young lieutenant.
"As I was saying, we must meet in a different way in the future. You and I will meet, but it is best if you do not deliver the material directly to me. We will use something called a dead drop." "I've seen them in the movies," the kid nodded. "Yes, they’re in films, but they are also quite real. On the screen, the spy leaves a slip of paper with a message in a drop in a stone wall. In our case, however, you must leave a bunch of cards. They are too big for stone walls, so I have arranged for three larger places. You will use one each time, never the same twice in a row."
Genady took the kid through the entire sequence of trade craft for using the drops, including how to signal that they were full. Since the drops had to hold large loads, they were in isolated places. There was a test load in each now to ensure that the kid had found them. Once he had found all of them, he was to call a number, and ask if there was a fishing guide for hire there.
"Now this is pretty complicated, so I have put it down on paper, which is not the best idea. It's very thin paper. In fact, in a pinch, you could eat this paper to destroy it." The kid gave him a wide eyed look. Real spy stuff. "I want you to commit this to memory, then destroy the paper within twenty-four hours. Do you think you can do that?"
"I can do that." The kid was very earnest, very willing to please. He was probably working on his officer qualifications instead of screwing his girlfriend every night. Come to think of it, Genady didn't know whether he had a girlfriend. Girlfriends and wives can be very high risk elements. "Howard, do you have a girlfriend?" "No, not right now. I'm kind of between them." "We're in a risky business, Howard. It's important that what we do remains between us. I know that you understand that. Wives and girlfriends can be our downfall." "I understand, Allie." "Good, good. This has been an important meeting, and I really appreciate everything you’ve done, but it is not safe for us to meet too often. We will meet next month at the pastry shop, just to see how things are going, yes?" "Yes," the kid enthused. "I will call you with a time. Don’t worry about keeping a time open. I'm flexible." He gave the kid a big smile.
Genady had handed the pack back to the kid. The card packs remained on the ground. Now Genady reached into his own pack, coming out with a business size white envelope. "Here," he said, handing it to the kid, "this is for you." "What is it?" the kid asked. "A thousand dollars." "I couldn't take that. I'm not doing this for money. I'm doing this for the cause of peace." "I know," but you are incurring expenses, and taking risks. Both are worth something. It's not like I am paying you a fortune." Genady brought out a small pad of paper. "I need you to sign a receipt. My boss insists. He wants to make sure that I am not spending this on booze and dancing girls." Genady gave the kid a reassuring grin. The kid signed; the incriminating act was complete. He hadn't just sold his country out - he'd sold it out for money. Genady grinned again, and the kid laughed as he handed the receipt back. "I can't imagine you with dancing girls, Allie," he said with a sly grin. The ice was broken. The kid wouldn't know that all foreign agents receiving funds from the Soviet Union were required to sign receipts. Genady returned the smile. "You are right, Howard. I can’t dance at all. I can’t even clap to a rhythm."
"Now you must leave, Howard. We have met for too long already, but there was much to discuss." Genady stood up and shook hands warmly with the kid, using both hands. "Remember to take the same care leaving that you did in coming. You have executed this job perfectly. Take care, my friend. Next month, over a cup of good coffee."
Genady sat back down and watched the kid stumble back to his car over the uneven ground, backpack no longer swaying now that it was empty. He sat completely still, as if a hunter in a blind, until the car was out of sight, and only the sounds of the forest remained. Then he periodically held his breath, listening, and looking, but he saw nothing except normal forest movement. His silence, and his stillness, brought the other forest creatures alive, suggesting that he was alone. When he estimated that a half hour had elapsed, he bent down, gathered up the TOP SECRET material that the kid had brought him, and carefully placed it all in his backpack. Then he nibbled his pastry, finished his mineral water, and began the long hike back to his car.
