"Have you met the new guy, Alexandrov, yet?"
"No, but one of my contacts knows him, says he's a reasonable sort, talks like he's in favor of peaceful coexistence. More liberal than Suslov. I hear he's pretty sick."
"I've heard that, too, but I'm not sure what's wrong with him."
"He's diabetic, didn't you hear? That's why the Baltimore docs came over to work on his eyes. Diabetic retinopathy," Prince explained, speaking the word slowly so that Foley could comprehend it.
"I'll have to ask the embassy doc what that means," Foley observed, making an obvious note on his pad. "So, this Alexandrov guy is more liberal, you think?"
"Liberal" was a word that meant "good guy" to Prince.
"Well, I haven't met him myself, but that's what my sources think. They also think that when Suslov departs from this life, Mikhail Yevgeniyevich will take his place."
"Really? I'll have to drop that on the ambassador."
"And the Station Chief?"
"You know who that is? I don't," Foley said.
An eye roll. "Ron Fielding. Hell, everybody knows that."
"No, he isn't," Ed protested as sharply as his acting talent allowed. "He's the senior consular officer, not a spook."
Prince smiled, thinking, You never could figure things out, could you? His Russian contacts had fingered Fielding to him, and he knew they wouldn't lie to him. "Well, that's just a guess, of course," the reporter went on.
And if you thought it was me, you'd blurt it right out, wouldn't you? Foley thought right back at him. You officious ass. "Well, I'm cleared for some things, as you know, but not that one."
"I know who does know," Prince offered.
"Yeah, but I'm not going to ask the Ambassador, Tony. He'd rip my face off."
"He's just a political appointment, Ed-nothing special. This ought to be a posting for somebody who knows diplomacy, but the President didn't ask me for advice."
Thank God, the Station Chief commented inwardly.
"Fielding sees him a lot, doesn't he?" Prince went on.
"A consular officer works directly with the Ambassador, Tony. You know that."
"Yeah. Convenient, isn't it? How much do you see him?"
"The boss, you mean? Once a day, usually," Foley answered.
"And Fielding?"
"More. Maybe two or three times."
"There you have it," Prince concluded grandly. "You can always tell."
"You read too many James Bond books," Foley said dismissively. "Or maybe Matt Helm."
"Get real, Ed," Prince bristled with elegant gentleness.
"If Fielding is the head spook, who are his underlings? Damned if I know."
"Well, those are always pretty covert," Prince admitted. "No, on that I don't have a clue."
"Pity. That's one of the games you play in the embassy-who are the spooks."
"Well, I can't help you."
"It's not something I need to know anyway, I guess," Foley admitted.
You never were curious enough to be a good reporter, Prince thought, with a casual, pleasant smile. "So, does this keep you busy?"
"It's not a ball-breaker. Anyway, can we make a deal?"
"Sure," Prince replied. "What is it?"
"If you hear anything interesting, let us know here?"
"You can read about it in the Times, usually on the front page above the fold," he added, to make sure Foley knew how important he was, along with his penetrating analysis.
"Well, some things, you know, the Ambassador likes to get a heads-up. He told me to ask, off-the-record-like."
"That's an ethical issue, Ed."
"If I tell Ernie that, he won't be real happy."
"Well, you work for him. I don't."
"You are an American citizen, right?"
"Don't wave the flag at me, okay?" Prince responded wearily. "Okay, if I find out they're about to launch nuclear weapons, I'll let you know. But it looks to me like we're more likely to do something that stupid than they are."
"Tony, give me a break."
"This 'focus of evil in the world' crap wasn't exactly Abe Lincoln talking, was it?"
"You saying the President was wrong?" the Chief of Station asked, wondering just how far his opinion of this ass might sink.
"I know about the Gulag, okay? But that's a thing of the past. The Russians have mellowed since Stalin died, but the new administration hasn't figured that one out yet, have they?"
"Look, Tony, I'm just a worker bee here. The Ambassador asked me to forward a simple request. I take it your response is 'no'?"
"You take it correctly."
"Well, don't expect any Christmas cards from Ernie Fuller."
"Ed, my duty is to The New York Times and my readers, period."
"Okay, fine. I had to ask," Foley said defensively. He hadn't expected anything better from the guy, but he'd suggested this to Ambassador Fuller himself to feel Prince out, and the Ambassador had approved it.
"I understand." Prince checked his watch. "Hey, I have a meeting scheduled at the CPSU Central Committee building."
"Anything I ought to know about?"
"Like I said, you can read it in the Times. They fax you the Early Bird out of Washington, don't they?"
"Yeah, it eventually trickles down here."
"Then, day after tomorrow, you can read it," Prince advised, standing to take his leave. "Tell Ernie."
"I'll do that," Foley said, extending his hand. Then he decided he'd walk Prince to the elevator. On the way back, he'd hit the men's room to wash his hands. His next stop after that was the Ambassador's office.
"Hi, Ed. Meet with that Prince guy?"
Foley nodded his head. "Just cut him loose."
"Did he nibble at your hook?"
"Nope. Just spat it right back at me."
Fuller smiled crookedly. "What did I tell you? There used to be some patriotic reporters back when I was your age, but they've mostly grown out of it over the last few years."
"I'm not surprised. When Tony was a new kid in New York, he never liked the cops very much, but he was good at getting them to talk to him. Persuasive bastard, when he wants to be."
"Did he work on you?"
"No, sir. I'm not important enough for that."
"What did you think of the Washington request about the Pope?" Fuller asked, changing the subject.
"I'm going to have some people look into it, but-"
"I know, Ed. I don't want to know exactly what you're doing about it. If you find anything, will you be able to tell me about it?"
"Depends, sir," Foley answered, meaning probably not.
Fuller accepted that. "Okay. Anything else shaking?"
"Prince is on to something, ought to be in the papers day after tomorrow. He's on his way to the Central Committee, or so he told me. He confirmed that Alexandrov will replace Mikhail Suslov when Red Mike checks out. If they're telling him, it must be official. I think we can believe that one. Tony has good contacts with their political types, and it tracks with what our other friends tell us about Suslov."
"I've never met the guy. What gives with him?"
"He's one of the last true believers. Alexandrov is another one. He thinks Marx is the One True God, and Lenin is his prophet, and their political and economic system really does work."
"Really? Some people never learn."
"Yep. You can take that to the bank, sir. There are a few left, but Leonid Ilyich isn't one of them, and neither is his heir apparent, Yuriy Vladimirovich. But Alexandrov is Andropov's ally. There's a Politburo meeting later today."
"When will we know what they discussed?"
"Couple of days, probably." But exactly how we find out, you do not need to know, sir, Foley didn't add.
He didn't have to. Ernie Fuller knew the rules of the game. The U.S. Ambassador to every country was thoroughly briefed on the embassy he was taking over. To get into Moscow involved voluntary brainwashing at Foggy Bottom and Langley. In reality, the American ambassador to Moscow was his country's chief intelligence officer in the Soviet Union, and Uncle Ernie was a pretty good one, Foley thought.