“I’ve been aware of it,” Crandall replied.
“Why did you allow her to keep seeing him?” Danforth asked.
“It worked as a control mechanism. On Sunrise. Never been a problem,” Crandall answered.
“Until now,” Griggs said.
Crandall paced the room. “Well, I have an answer for that. And we might be able to kill two birds with one stone.”
“I think it’s clear she can’t continue to make contact with Sunrise,” Danforth offered. Crandall only murmured in response, already thinking out his plan.
“I have a better solution. We offer an ultimatum—an immediate transfer, or be bait to catch Scharf,” Crandall declared.
“A honey trap?” Danforth scoffed. “You’ll never get her to do it. Besides, I don’t know if it would work.”
Mason also groaned at the suggestion.
“She worked on Sunrise,” Crandall argued. “Tell me honestly that she wouldn’t work on any of you.”
“But she still won’t do it—it’s beneath her,” Danforth exclaimed.
“Well, we sweeten the deal. Offer her anything she wants,” Crandall deflected.
“She’ll want to keep contact with him,” Griggs said.
“Of course,” Crandall acknowledged, sitting back at his desk.
“Maybe even ask for his release from duty,” Danforth said.
“It’s possible,” Crandall admitted.
“Well,” Griggs prodded, “what will we tell her then?”
“We’ll tell her anything. Promise her anything she wants. All we want is for her to accept the mission. It won’t matter after that,” Crandall said.
“But we can’t remove Sunrise from his post,” Danforth protested.
“Of course not. We won’t,” Crandall said firmly.
Mason shook his head, astounded at the direction the conversation had turned.
“Crandall, you’re digging a hole so deep, you’ll never see the light again.”
“What happened to you?” Crandall snapped as he rose to his feet. “Did you go blind or just get scared in your old age?”
“It’s wrong,” Mason impugned, staring at the three men. “It’s all wrong.”
Crandall strode toward Mason and stared directly at him. “Our work is about expediency. If you can’t turn opportunity into an advantage, then you have no business making decisions here.”
Mason glared at Crandall. Seeing further argument was futile, he left the room without a word.
Danforth sighed. “It’s pretty harsh to speak to him like that. The man’s a legend.”
Crandall shrugged. “He doesn’t have the fortitude for intelligence anymore.”
“Mason’s got a point,” Griggs said. “Lying to our own agents will only create a backlash.”
Crandall turned to Griggs and gave a cold, calculating stare. “I’ve thought of that.”
10
Within days, Operation JAVELIN―the plan to catch Scharf―was put into effect. Anna, Danforth, and Griggs were the primary players. Crandall oversaw the operation from West Berlin via radio reports. Griggs had served in Special Forces in the military, and was used to these sort of operations. Danforth was a bit rustier. A good friend of Crandall, he had come on board to run the operation at Jim’s request. The operation was hastily assembled, but the men had scouted out Scharf’s favorite haunt―a kniepe or pub a short distance from his apartment in Lichtenberg.
The plan was simple: Anna would meet with Scharf in the bar, seduce him, and either lead him back to her fictitious apartment, or if he was unwilling, to his own apartment. If Scharf went for the former plan, Griggs and Danforth would ambush Scharf in the lobby of “her” apartment building. If it was the latter, Griggs and Danforth would ambush him even before he reached home. They could not let Scharf get a chance to escape in his own building, where he could easily move about and evade them should something go wrong. If Scharf was wise to the trap, Danforth and Griggs wanted room to maneuver. That way they still could eliminate Scharf, or if that was impossible, escape themselves. It would only take Scharf a moment to get help from the People’s Police or other Stasi members. Danforth and Griggs would have to move like lightning to capture their prey. A fourth agent would conduct surveillance from a car and give Anna, Danforth, and Griggs a quick getaway once they were finished.
Perhaps the most controversial point of the planning was whether Anna would be allowed to carry a weapon herself. Crandall insisted she could not, that the risk of Scharf suspecting something wrong and finding it on her person was greater than the danger to Anna herself. Danforth and Griggs would always remain close by, and could easily act in her defense. Griggs argued Anna could keep a weapon well concealed, and her ability to attack Scharf would only enhance their chances of success, but in the end, Crandall prevailed. Hans was kept completely out of the loop on the mission, as Crandall knew he would object to Anna’s use as bait.
So, on a drab evening in late April, Scharf walked into his favorite pub and spotted a pretty blonde in the corner. She made furtive glances at him as he drank and chatted with the bartender. Scharf noticed at first with amusement, but as time wore on, he became intrigued. She was stunningly beautiful, and as far as patronage in an East German pub went, exotic. She did not appear to be from the West, nor as far east as Russia. Usually, Scharf might consider such glances from a lone woman to be a threat, since he was constantly wary of deception. This time he found it to be a challenge. After all, Scharf reasoned, he was rather distinguished-looking; why wouldn’t a woman be innocently attracted to him? Finally, he sauntered over to her table.
“You’re not from here,” Scharf said.
“No. I’m from Czechoslovakia,” Anna answered pleasantly.
“Ah. I would have thought Hungary. May I sit?”
“Please.”
As Anna and Scharf conversed for the next two hours, she plied him with round after round of beer. She told him she was a graduate student at Humboldt University. She had come to the pub to get away from the fatheaded students who constantly preened on their own intellects. Do something in the real world first, then preen, she said. It was an argument that appealed to Scharf, but more than that, he admired her energy. She was an engaging mystery, and he found the tight edges of his awareness unravel as he immersed deeper in conversation. As he drank, he also became more entranced with her beauty. She was wearing a conservative white wool sweater, but one that accentuated her figure nicely. Scharf mentally planned how he’d ravish her later that evening.
He told her of how he had been to Paris, though he claimed to have been sent there on a trade mission from the office of foreign affairs. That was his official cover for the foreign intelligence assignment he once had. He could see she was intrigued that had been to the West. When she asked about his job, he told her he was a trade official. She seemed impressed. Finally, he suggested he walk her back to her apartment. Standing to leave, Anna explained she lived only a few blocks away. She had recently moved out of a student ghetto where she had to tolerate her roommate’s awful music. It was further now to go to the university, but at least she now had peace to study. Scharf almost smiled to himself. Loud music or not, she would not be studying tonight.
Anna and Scharf headed out onto the street while Griggs watched from a doorway thirty meters away. He lifted his sleeve, where he had concealed a small radio, and whispered into it. “Humpty Dumpty is on the move, heading in your direction.”
“Copy,” came Danforth’s reply.
When Griggs felt he could tail Scharf without being spotted, he headed out into the street. Another pursuer—one that no one had anticipated—followed Griggs. It was Hans. He had been watching Scharf’s movements for the past few days, and on this evening, he had watched him from the third floor window of a building across the street. Hans caught sight of Anna walking alongside Scharf and knew something was terribly wrong. Scharf began to feel an uneasiness too. Now, out in the fresh air on the street, his head began to clear, and his senses returned to him. Something made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He and the woman were not alone. He reached his hand into his pocket, where he kept a small weapon. It was a single-shot gun disguised as a fountain pen. The KGB had devised a similar “lipstick gun” for its female agents; this was Scharf’s equivalent. He also kept a switchblade, and though he did not reach for it now, Scharf prepared to make use of it.