Выбрать главу

A group of refugees was working at clearing the area of debris. He spotted the dark-haired girl he’d seen several times earlier. He’d never met her, but almost felt like he should apologize. She was so small and thin he’d first thought she was a child. He’d seen her a couple of times since then and realized she was a young woman, and not bad-looking at all.

She hung around a lot with that von Schumann character, and Logan wondered if she spoke English. It would be nice to talk to a young woman again. Hell, he laughed, it’d be nice even if she didn’t speak English.

Assistant Secretary of State Dean Acheson was shown almost immediately into the drab and spartan office of the Soviet ambassador, Andrei Gromyko. As always, the grim and unsmiling Russian dispensed with formalities and went to the heart of the matter. If Gromyko was upset that it was the lower-ranking Acheson and not Secretary of State Stettinius who had come in response to his summons, he made no comment. And if he was surprised that Natalie Holt followed Acheson, he again showed nothing, merely nodded as terse introductions were made.

The reasons for Natalie’s presence were twofold. First, she could translate if necessary, and second, Acheson and others wanted to gauge the Russian’s reaction on seeing her after Soviet goons had tried to kill her and Burke.

“My government is most upset,” Gromyko began.

“As is mine,” responded Acheson, interrupting the Russian. His instructions were to not play games. He was to be polite, but very firm. He had requested Natalie’s presence as a means of possibly discomfiting Gromyko. Although the Russian stared at her, it didn’t seem to be working.

“The attack of the American army upon the peace-loving Soviet liberators of Europe was unprovoked and showed a side of the capitalist states that we suspected but could not prove.”

Acheson was annoyed by the lie but dared not show it. “Your information is incorrect. We specifically told you our small force was coming to assist you, when and what direction it would take, and all this was done to avoid any kind of tragic incident like what just occurred. Your troops in the field should have been well briefed, but weren’t. Unless, of course, the attack was intentional.”

Gromyko sat stonily. He didn’t even blink.

Acheson continued as Natalie sat, transfixed, by the dialogue. “And, as to the question of who attacked whom, it is now irrelevant. Soldiers on both sides were killed and wounded, and taken prisoner, and that includes some Russian soldiers from your 47th Army. They confirm that they were ordered to attack our positions. We also hold you responsible for the casualties caused by Russian soldiers, doubtless drunk, who indiscriminately fired artillery at our positions, particularly in Potsdam, in celebration of the death of Hitler.”

“No troops of ours fired on yours. We are too disciplined. More than likely the drunks wore American uniforms.” Gromyko sneered. He leaned forward and glared, and Natalie could almost feel the heat of his anger. “Now, let us get to matters that are truly important. We hold over five thousand of your men as prisoners and are gathering more each day like a farmer gathers wheat. Your soldiers are uninspired and fearful, as well they should be.”

Gromyko leaned back in his chair. “I will not argue with you as to which army fired first. It does not matter, as you have doubtless been told lies by your Eisenhower, who wishes to cover for his mistakes.

“As to any of our Soviet soldiers in your hands spreading such filth as you stated, it is apparent that they are either lying to gain advantage or were tortured. However, whatever transpired to start the fighting is done and cannot be undone. Now we must discuss what happens next and what price you will pay for your country’s insolence.”

Acheson stiffened. Now it comes, he thought.

“The Soviet Union will both release the men we have taken as prisoners and permit the force in Potsdam to depart upon your agreeing to the following conditions: First, you will not attempt any further offensive actions against the Soviet army.”

Acheson mentally concurred. There were no plans to do any such thing, anyhow. “I presume you will permit us to continue our supply efforts and provide us with a list of those Americans being held prisoner.”

“Certainly. The second condition is that you will disavow any rights to Berlin, which our brave socialist comrades have taken and hold by right of conquest. Further, the zones of occupation that were to have been divided among the United States, Great Britain, and, at your insistence, France, shall now be limited to the Rhineland and the area just to the northwest of Switzerland. You will not occupy any of Austria.”

The fifty-two-year-old Acheson was stunned, and Natalie was hard-pressed to keep her emotions in check. She spoke for the first time. “That, Ambassador Gromyko, is not what was agreed to at Yalta.”

Gromyko shrugged, as if dismissing the query of a small and not particularly bright child. “Women should not be involved in these sorts of discussions.”

Despite his pious-sounding statement, he had been undressing Natalie with his eyes. She was used to this sort of treatment and simply glared at him. Gromyko represented all that she hated. People like him had destroyed her family.

Natalie responded angrily. “I am involved because your people tried to kill me.”

Gromyko was unmoved. “You and your lover, Colonel Burke, had something that belonged to us. It was considered quite important at the time. However, there was no attempt on your life. You imagined it. My men may have gotten overzealous in an attempt to halt you and recover our property, but they have been chastised, and, after all, nothing came of it. Colonel Korzov has returned to Moscow for reassignment following his indiscretion. Regardless, neither you nor Colonel Burke are of any interest to us. You may do whatever you wish without any paranoid fears. Neither you, nor Burke, nor your mother are of any interest to us.”

Natalie tried not to gasp. Korzov reassigned? Probably to a grave. And how the devil did he know about her mother?

“Secretary Acheson and Miss Holt, the Yalta agreement no longer applies; in fact, it no longer exists. When you attacked the Russian army you repudiated it. You should be fortunate that the Soviet Union, which has suffered twenty million dead at the hands of the Hitlerites, is permitting you any voice whatsoever in the future of Germany. I agree with Premier Stalin and Comrade Molotov that our terms are most generous.”

“Ambassador,” Acheson persisted, “that sort of settlement would be unacceptable to the American people. It would be as if all our efforts in Europe were for nothing. We too paid a debt in blood and cannot simply walk away from it.”

Gromyko stared at the ceiling. It was as if further discussion of a closed topic bored him. “What the American people think is of absolutely no concern. You should be more strict with them. As is Comrade Stalin, for instance, with those who do not see his vision for a united peoples’ Europe.”

“I am well aware how your government treats those who disagree with it,” Natalie said acidly. “I would not think it something to be proud of.”

The comment appeared to amuse Gromyko. “Your opinions are of no concern to me, Miss Holt. I am well aware that your parents were traitors to the Soviet Union.”

The comment stunned her. How did Gromyko know so much about her background? Or were there Soviet sympathizers in the State Department who would leak that sort of information? Perhaps some State Department employees were being blackmailed. She might have been vulnerable if her mother’s past hadn’t already become common knowledge within State. But what about others? The FBI was already checking. What would they find?

Gromyko turned to Acheson. “If you were implying that acceptance of our most generous terms will cost Mr. Truman his office, then I am utterly unsympathetic. Having permitted this insanity to occur, it is likely that he is incompetent and should go. We can deal with his replacement as readily as we do him, and our terms will not change.”