Deep Cover Read Free Page A

slid to the curb by a big Spanish stucco edifice, FEDERAL OFFICE BUILDING engraved in concrete above the entrance. Rykov preceded them through the revolving door and saw the general give the device a narrow look full of nervous distrust. Yashin gave the surroundings no more attention than he would have paid a Moscow worker’s flat. Andrei trotted to the elevator bank and inserted a key and the car took them to the fifth floor.
    â€œYour quarters are at the rear. We’ll try to anticipate your needs but you’ll have to regard yourselves as confined in quarantine.”
    â€œI’m sure it’s all quite necessary,” Yashin said.
    Rykov took them into his office and closed the door. Andrei arranged chairs, and from the way General Grigorenko’s eyes followed Andrei around the room it was evident Grigorenko didn’t like his being there, but if Yashin could bring a witness Rykov was entitled to the same privilege according to the rules of protocol. Rykov pressed a button under the lip of his desk and sat back. “We can begin right away if you like.”
    â€œBy all means,” said Yashin.
    An old man brought in a large tray and set it down and left the room. Chilled glasses of vodka, dishes of smoked whitefish on bread, and sour pickles. Andrei passed them around.
    Rykov settled his elbows on the desk and steepled his fingers. “You’ll want a general briefing, but first let’s clear the air. When you return to the Kremlin there will be nothing to prevent you from remembering a great many ugly things that did not happen here. You might try to persuade the Politburo that my operation here is slipshod and worthless, nothing but a danger to the Soviet Union and a grave drain on her resources. When men in your position make such statements, rebuttals from men in my position mean little.”
    Yashin murmured, “You forget your superior. What about Tolubchev?”
    â€œNaturally his assurances would be discounted because ultimately the responsibility for Amergrad is his. He authorized it and he has no choice but to defend it. Who would believe him?”
    The narrow face did not change. “You have a lively imagination.”
    â€œHave I.”
    â€œWhat do you want, Comrade—my assurances of support?”
    â€œOnly your assurances of an open skepticism. I never ask the impossible.”
    â€œShow us what you have to offer. Then we’ll see.”
    â€œIn a moment. It remains to be said that the state security files are at my disposal at all times.”
    Yashin didn’t stir. It was Grigorenko who stiffened. “You’re threatening us with blackmail?”
    â€œYou? Hardly.”
    â€œNever mind,” Yashin said. He appeared remote, detached. He understood well enough. The government was unsteady, the post-Stalin purges had stripped the top levels of functionaries, and those who remained were a meager cadre intent on training a new generation to fill the bureaucracy’s vacancies. Yashin and his comrades could not afford the loss of further Party executives. Yet Rykov’s threat was explicit: destroy Rykov and you risk destroying men whose services are vital to the Soviet Union. The ammunition waited in his NKVD files.
    He was offering Yashin a simple trade and making it clear he was not asking for support, only indifference.
    Yashin lit his pipe. He had not conceded yet. “We’ll see,” he said again. “You may proceed.”
    Rykov sat back. “Andrei?”
    Andrei clasped his hands behind him and assumed a gentle ex cathedra manner. “The first group of trainees is to matriculate in three weeks’ time. They’ll be seeded in at discreet intervals over a period of eighteen or twenty months. Theseagents may not be called on to act for many years, and in the meantime their whole concern will be to behave like Americans. That’s why their training here has to be exhaustive, and incidentally expensive.