Authors: Alan Bricklin
Heading back into the living area Kent tossed the other two
envelopes on the desk, next to his briefcase, and sat in the one easy chair in
the room. Using a letter opener he had picked up from the desk, he neatly slit
the envelope and pulled out several sheets of pastel colored writing paper that
it was his wife's custom to use, in various shades and hues, this time in a
pink that seemed off the mark, a bit too red and garish. With an almost
imperceptible shake of his head he began to read and as he did so his mien
exhibited a gamut of expressions, but not once did a smile appear. When he had
finished, Kent leaned his head back in the chair and knotted his hand into a
fist, crumpling the gaudy paper and letting it fall from his hand.
I trust you are comfortable with the fit of the new
clothes.
The meaning was apparent. He leaned forward, picked up his wife's
envelope and turned it over in his hand, looking for signs that it had been
opened. None were visible, but he wasn't really sure exactly what to look for;
he was not a field agent, had never run one and his tradecraft was limited.
Nevertheless, he was sure Julian had been monitoring his mail and had thought
this letter provided an opportune time to cement Kent's allegiance. He thought
about his wife, not the envious social climber, the woman who would be only too
happy to become a snob, who wouldn't care if she were a parvenu as long as
there were sufficient women below her station; but rather, he thought about the
slim blonde who turned heads wherever she went, who could look up to him like a
star struck teenager, whose hair smelt like a warm meadow in bloom and could
excite him like no woman ever had, touching and caressing him like the very
fire of the sun burned inside her. Kent was hopelessly in love.
This most recent letter from his Helen was not substantially
different in quality from many that had come before, but she did drive home her
opinion about what she needed to survive in the life that she envisioned for
them after the war. Included, of course, were various references to people they
knew whose current condition or future prospects seemed more advanced than
theirs, who were members of the proper clubs or whose children attended the
right schools.
And, did I mention that Daddy met so and so, some unmarried
son of a close friend, who was sure to be a real mover after the war.
The
implied threat of losing her was there, at least in Kent's mind; that was
something he could not endure. He knew he would do anything, whatever it took,
to hold on to her and make her happy.
Kent stood up. Once the actual military engagement took place,
the war with his conscience had been quick and decisive. It had been routed by
the fragrance of a flower filled meadow and his spirits lifted now that the
conflict was resolved and a decision had been made. The crinkled letter from
his wife was placed in a desk drawer along with other sheets of blue, green,
mauve and teal. Julian's note was burned in the sink and the ashes washed away.
He was physically exhausted from the day of traveling, and
mentally drained by the conflicts that had raged within, yet he felt curiously
at ease. Undressing quickly and hanging his clothes on whatever was handy he
slid into bed and was asleep before he remembered to turn off the light.
Julian and Kent left Dulles' private office, passing through the
small ante room where Bill sat sorting through correspondence, opening some
items, separating them quickly into three piles and placing other items
unopened in a fourth stack for Allen Dulles to deal with himself. Bill looked
up briefly, gave a barely perceptible nod as they passed his desk, then went
back to his work. When they were out of earshot Julian said softly, "I
have the picture of Schroeder's girlfriend I'm supposed to give to the field
agent. It should be only a matter of days, or at most a week, before he's ready
to head out so you've got to get back to Lugano and see Waldman again."
"Shit," he said a bit too loudly. I just got back
two days ago. What's up?"
Julian lifted his chin ever so slightly to remind Kent that
they were approaching some of their coworkers and then turned to him with an
almost beatific expression on his face, which Kent interpreted correctly as,
"Shut the fuck up, please, until we have a bit of privacy and try not to
announce to the whole staff what we're doing."
Kent nonchalantly adjusted his tie and whispered,
"Sorry."
When they had descended a dozen or so steps on the stairs
leading to the first floor reception area, Julian paused and, after making sure
that no one was either on the way up or down, said to Kent, "Our General
has information on the location of the package and also has something he must
get to you before our agent crosses into Germany. That's all he was able to
send to me, the details have to be done face to face so you've got to return to
where you met him before. He'll be there each of the next three days between 10
AM and 2 PM. Make arrangements to be there by tomorrow; day after at the
latest. And get the tickets yourself. No need to announce a second trip to any
of the staff."
"Will do. And thanks for delivering my mail." He
threw the last in as a non sequitur, thinking it might catch his partner off
guard. Mallory looked directly at Templeton, hoping that some subtle change in
his expression might provide a clue as to whether or not he was the one who had
entered his apartment and left the letter from his wife. He was not sure if he
would be able to discern the telltale signs, especially because Julian was so
good and he was such a novice.
However, as it turned out, no skill was necessary since
Julian broke into an ear to ear grin, started back down the stairs and chuckled
out loud as he said through his smile, "Wait for me outside, we'll talk. I
just need to stop by Vickie's desk."
"Yeah, we should talk. And by the way, how's that working
out with Vickie? You must have seen her several times already."
"A gentleman never tells. But, I think we may be moving
into a new phase." Having reached the bottom of the steps he turned right
and casually sauntered over to the receptionist's desk where Vickie was busy
making entries into a large logbook of the visitors and supplicants of the
previous day. She looked up, a pleasant expression of surprise on her face,
although Julian, not one to miss very much, had seen her surreptitiously
glancing at him while he was descending the stairs and he knew that she had
been hoping he would stop by her desk and talk to her.
I've got her hooked,
he thought. Now she has to be played just right.
"Good morning
Victoria. I didn't see you at your desk when I came in and, I have to admit, I
was disappointed. Just seeing you makes any day better."
Kent grinned to himself and slowly shook his head as he
donned his coat and headed for the door. The morning air was cold but the sun
shone brightly in the clear blue sky, and once outside he left his coat
unbuttoned, his gloves in the pockets and his scarf draped loosely over his
neck while he stood facing the sun, turning his face upward to feel the warmth.
He felt that his life was finally improving and that warmed him as much as the
fiery star overhead. The end of the war was in the offing and his prospects for
afterward seemed better than they had been in years. Between the State
Department and the nest egg he hoped to acquire soon they would finally be able
to have the kind of life that his wife so wanted.
She'll be proud of me.
Kent Mallory stood there, a smile on his face, basking in the calidity, both
from without and from within, while he waited for Templeton. After about five
minutes he heard the door swing open and he turned in time to see Julian waving
an almost starry—eyed farewell to Vickie, a most out of character tableau
for a man so practical and calculating. However, he thought, perhaps it was
very much in character. Julian was a planner and a plotter, preferring to leave
as little as possible to chance, to cover all contingencies. He was always
focused, goal oriented and did whatever was necessary to achieve his desired
end, and the objective here was obvious, at least to Kent if not to Vickie
herself.
"Sorry to keep you, I just had to firm up our plans for
tonight."
"On to a new level."
"As I said..."
"I know, a gentleman never tells." So what's going
on with 'Herr General'?"
They were out on the street now, heading in the direction of
the park, and Templeton paused, checking his pockets as if looking for
something, then turning back toward the office seemingly wondering if he might
have left it there. It was a convenient way to make sure no one was within
earshot. "I'm not sure but it probably has to do with actually finding the
location of the material we need to retrieve. Remember, you said that Waldman
had information that Schroeder's girlfriend held the key to the location, had
some kind of information that would lead to it although she was most likely
unaware of the significance of whatever this nexus was or even in what form it
existed. I've been thinking about that and it must be that Heinrich is going to
give our agent some innocent sounding question to ask her, the response to
which will lead him to the package, or else have him get her to look in some
location where he's hidden the information."
"So what is it that I need to do in Lugano?"
"Review the operational plans and contingencies we
discussed. Listen carefully to anything he has to say. You'll have to evaluate
it critically from an operational point of view. Think about the plan that we
have. Will his information allow us to succeed? Try to identify the weak links
and see if there is more info he might be able to give you that will allow us
to institute fail-safe procedures. Remember, he wants this to succeed as much
as we do, maybe even more. Without a ticket out, his future is rather bleak at
best."
"OK, I'll go to the station as soon as we're done and
be on the 6 AM train tomorrow. I need to ask you, though, about the letters you
left for me in my apartment. It was you who broke into my apartment, wasn't
it?"
"I did leave the letters for you, but I didn't have to
break in. Your landlord has seen me with you and knows we're friends. I just
told him you called me from out of town and asked me to check on some business
papers for you and to leave your mail. A five-dollar bill helped overcome any
compunction he may have had. There's a lesson here. Don't make things more
difficult than they have to be. Why break the law by picking your lock when
there's an easier and more direct way?"
"OK, so you didn't bust in, but why did you feel the
need to deliver my mail? And, speaking of the mail, did you read Helen's
letter?"
"No, that's a personal communication and doesn't
concern me." Kent didn't believe him.
"Then what was the meaning of that note you left
me?"
"Well, I can see you're starting to think more
analytically and that's good. You're making connections." They had reached
the ornate metal gate to the park and Julian motioned to it with a nod of his
head. "It's made an impression on you." Kent followed his gaze and
remembered their discussion, or rather, Julian's lecture. However, he did not
let himself be diverted. He pressed his point.
"What did that note mean?"
"Look, I didn't read the letter from your wife. As a
matter of fact I didn't have to. From all you've told me, and that was more
than you should have, by the way, I could guess what the gist of the letter
was. It was the same as all the others. What I meant was that I hoped you were
OK with our plan and that it fit in with your own goals for the future. I
certainly don't want to get you pissed at me. You're an integral part of this
operation and a nice guy besides."
"I'm not pissed. I was only thinking....I'm not even
sure what I was thinking. I guess I was just bothered by how low on the totem
poll I still am. Actually, I think we have a good plan here and I'm anxious to
get on with it. I truly believe it will be the beginning of the ascendancy of
Kent Mallory."
Julian had paused at the park entrance and now he turned
away from the entrance. "I've got a few things to do. Find me as soon as
you get back. We're on a tight deadline now; the field agent will be leaving
soon and we'll have to brief him. It will take finesse to handle both him and
Schroeder. Heinrich has to supply him with certain specifics and that has to go
through one of us so we can make sure the agent has the information we want him
to have."
"There's one more thing, Julian. It's about the
agent." Mallory, even though he was a relative novice and had little
experience in planning clandestine operations, realized that Waldman and the
OSS field agent were on a collision course and that the impact would take place
somewhere in Germany, on Waldman's home turf. "I..." Something held
him back. His concerns could not be expressed. Perhaps it was simply that his
conscience had been tethered. "It's not important; I'll talk to you when I
get back."
Julian's face clouded over fleetingly, to be replaced
immediately by a smile, although his eyes retained their flinty appearance.
"OK, then. Have a good trip. And Kent, welcome aboard. I think you've
really joined the team now." He held out his hand and grasped Kent's as if
he were accepting a new salesman into his company. The firmness of his grip was
not lost on Kent and after a few seconds Julian released him and pivoted on his
heals to take off for whatever business or errands he had to do. By the time he
completed the turn, the smile had faded from his face and his expression was
not at all pleasant.
Later that night, while Kent was thinking about his early
morning trip to Lugano and trying to make a mental list of possibilities,
contingencies and questions to be asked, Julian was escorting Vickie back from
a romantic little restaurant where they had shared delicacies one would have
thought impossible in wartime. It was all a question of connections and money,
and although Templeton had just enough of the latter for his immediate needs,
he had a true abundance of the former. By the time they had finished their meal
and drained a second bottle of wine, all of the other diners, only a handful
actually, had left and they were alone with Wilhelm the Maitre d' and a forlorn
looking waiter who seemed anxious to leave. He kept alternately shuffling his
feet and pacing back and forth despite the occasional glare from Wilhelm.
Julian asked for coffee, commenting that it was the final complement to a good
meal, that it added just the right flavor and ambiance to bring a good dining
experience to a close.