Carrol said, "See here, you're really Paul Koslov, aren't you?"
Paul looked at him, said nothing.
Lord Carrol said impatiently, "What you ask is impossible. Ouroperatives all have their own assignments, their own work. Why do youneed them?"
"This is the biggest job ever, overthrowing the Soviet State. We need asmany men as we can get on our team. Possibly I won't have to use thembut, if I do, I want them available."
The Britisher rapped, "You keep mentioning _our team_ but according tothe dossier we carry on you, Mr. Koslov, you are neither British noreven a Yankee. And you ask me to turn over our complete Sovietmachinery."
Paul came to his feet and leaned over the desk, there was a palenessimmediately beneath his ears and along his jaw line. "Listen," he saidtightly, "if I'm not on this team, there just is no team. Just apretense of one. When there's a real team there has to be a certainspirit. A team spirit. I don't care if you're playing cricket, footballor international cold war. If there's one thing that's important to me,that I've based my whole life upon, it's this, understand? _I've_ gotteam spirit. Perhaps no one else in the whole West has it, but _I_ do."
Inwardly, Lord Carrol was boiling. He snapped, "You're neither Britishnor American. In other words, you are a mercenary. How do we know thatthe Russians won't offer you double or triple what the Yankees pay foryour services?"
Paul sat down again and looked at his watch. "My time is limited," hesaid. "I have to leave for Paris this afternoon and be in Bonn tomorrow.I don't care what opinions you might have in regard to my mercenarymotives, Lord Carrol. I've just come from Downing Street. I suggest youmake a phone call there. At the request of Washington, your governmenthas given me carte blanche in this matter."
* * * * *
Paul flew into Moscow in an Aeroflot jet, landing at Vnukovo airport onthe outskirts of the city. He entered as an American businessman, acamera importer who was also interested in doing a bit of touristsightseeing. He was traveling deluxe category which entitled him to aZil complete with chauffeur and an interpreter-guide when he had need ofone. He was quartered in the Ukrayna, on Dorogomilovskaya Quai, atwenty-eight floor skyscraper with a thousand rooms.
It was Paul's first visit to Moscow but he wasn't particularly thrownoff. He kept up with developments and was aware of the fact that asearly as the late 1950s, the Russians had begun to lick the problems ofample food, clothing and finally shelter. Even those products onceconsidered sheer luxuries were now in abundant supply. If materialthings alone had been all that counted, the Soviet man in the streetwasn't doing so badly.
He spent the first several days getting the feel of the city and alsomaking his preliminary business calls. He was interested in a new"automated" camera currently being touted by the Russians as the world'sbest. Fastest lens, foolproof operation, guaranteed for the life of theowner, and retailing for exactly twenty-five dollars.
He was told, as expected, that the factory and distribution point was inLeningrad and given instructions and letters of introduction.
On the fifth day he took the Red Arrow Express to Leningrad andestablished himself at the Astoria Hotel, 39 Hertzen Street. It was oneof the many of the Intourist hotels going back to before the revolution.
He spent the next day allowing his guide to show him the standardtourist sights. The Winter Palace, where the Bolshevik revolution waswon when the mutinied cruiser _Aurora_ steamed up the river and shelledit. The Hermitage Museum, rivaled only by the Vatican and Louvre. TheAlexandrovskaya Column, the world's tallest monolithic stone monument.The modest personal palace of Peter the Great. The Peter and PaulCathedral. The king-size Kirov Stadium. The Leningrad subway, as much amuseum as a system of transportation.
He saw it all, tourist fashion, and wondered inwardly what the Intouristguide would have thought had he known that this was Mr. John Smith'shome town.
The day following, he turned his business problem over to the guide. Hewanted to meet, let's see now, oh yes, here it is, Leonid Shvernik, ofthe Mikoyan Camera works. Could it be arranged?
Of course it could be arranged. The guide went into five minutes oforatory on the desire of the Soviet Union to trade with the West, andthus spread everlasting peace.
An interview was arranged for Mr. Smith with Mr. Shvernik for thatafternoon.
Mr. Smith met Mr. Shvernik in the latter's office at two and they wentthrough the usual amenities. Mr. Shvernik spoke excellent English so Mr.Smith was able to dismiss his interpreter-guide for the afternoon. Whenhe was gone and they were alone Mr. Shvernik went into his sales talk.
"I can assure you, sir, that not since the Japanese startled the worldwith their new cameras shortly after the Second War, has any suchrevolution in design and quality taken place. The Mikoyan is not onlythe _best_ camera produced anywhere, but since our plant is fullyautomated, we can sell it for a fraction the cost of German, Japanese orAmerican--"
Paul Koslov came to his feet, walked quietly over to one of the pictureshanging on the wall, lifted it, pointed underneath and raised hiseyebrows at the other.
Leonid Shvernik leaned back in his chair, shocked.
Paul remained there until at last the other shook his head.
Paul said, in English, "Are you absolutely sure?"
"Yes." Shvernik said. "There are no microphones in here. I absolutelyknow. Who are you?"
Paul said, "In the movement they call you Georgi, and you're top man inthe Leningrad area."
Shvernik's hand came up from under the desk and he pointed a heavymilitary revolver at his visitor. "Who are you?" he repeated.
Paul ignored the gun. "Someone who knows that you are Georgi," he said"I'm from America. Is there any chance of anybody intruding?"
"Yes, one of my colleagues. Or perhaps a secretary."
"Then I suggest we go to a bar, or some place, for a drink or a cup ofcoffee or whatever the current Russian equivalent might be."
Shvernik looked at him searchingly. "Yes," he said finally. "There's aplace down the street." He began to stick the gun in his waistband,changed his mind and put it back into the desk drawer.
As soon as they were on the open street and out of earshot of otherpedestrians, Paul said, "Would you rather I spoke Russian? I have thefeeling that we'd draw less attention than if we speak English."
Shvernik said tightly, "Do the Intourist people know you speak Russian?If not, stick to English. Now, how do you know my name? I have nocontacts with the Americans."
"I got it through my West German contacts."
The Russian's face registered unsuppressed fury. "Do they ignore thesimplest of precautions! Do they reveal me to every source that asks?"
Paul said mildly, "Herr Ludwig is currently under my direction. Yoursecret is as safe as it has ever been."
The underground leader remained silent for a long moment. "You're anAmerican, eh, and Ludwig told you about me? What do you want now?"
"To help," Paul Koslov said.
"How do you mean, to help? How can you help? I don't know what you'retalking about."
"Help in any way you want. Money, printing presses, mimeograph machines,radio transmitters, weapons, manpower in limited amounts, know-how,training, anything you need to help overthrow the Soviet government."
They had reached the restaurant. Leonid Shvernik became the Russianexport official. He ushered his customer to a secluded table. Saw himcomfortably into his chair.
"Do you actually know anything about cameras?" he asked.
"Yes," Paul said, "we're thorough. I can buy cameras from you andthey'll be marketed in the States."
"Good." The waiter was approaching. Shvernik said, "Have you ever eatencaviar Russian style?"
"I don't believe so," Paul said "I'm not very hungry."
"Nothing to do with hunger." Shvernik said. From the waiter he orderedraisin bread, sweet butter, caviar and a carafe of vodka.
The waiter went off for it and Shvernik said, "To what extent are youwilling to help us? Money, for instanc
e. What kind of money, rubles,dollars? And how much? A revolutionary movement can always use money."
"Any kind," Paul said flatly, "and any amount."
Shvernik was impressed. He said eagerly, "Any amount within reason, eh?"
Paul looked into his face and said flatly, "Any amount, period. Itdoesn't have to be particularly reasonable. Our only qualification wouldbe a guarantee it is going into the attempt to overthrow theSoviets--not into private pockets."
The waiter was approaching. Shvernik drew some brochures from hispocket, spread them before Paul Koslov and began to point out