He took his Tracy from his wrist and propped it up on the room’s desk and sat before it. He pressed the tiny stud and said, “Paul calling. Paul calling.”
A thin voice came back. It was the commissioner’s. He had arranged for Kosloff’s Tracy to be tuned into his alone. They were really going ape about security on this assignment.
Paul said, “I’ve arrived and made contact with Battista. The subject is in the south. Battista thinks he can find out where. He also thinks I’m here to help the subject and evidently approves of that.”
The thin voice said, “It is not important what he thinks.”
Paul said, “The subject has followers here in Tangier. Battista believes he can make arrangements for a meeting.”
“What is your excuse for such a meeting?”
“It will have to be that I’m an agent from the United States coming to offer him assistance. He’ll take that bait and reveal where he is—I hope.”
“Fine. Get in there and do the job. We’ll never get another chance if you fail. He’ll be leary of our government. Do this right, and there’s a hefty bonus in it for you.”
“I don’t want a bonus,” Paul growled. “I didn’t sign up with the Western team for money. And, listen, Serge Sverdlov’s here in Tangier.”
There was a momentary silence. Then, “Sverdlov’s in Indonesia.”
“Battista says he’s here in Tangier, disguised as a negro. That guy’s the sharpest counter-espionage man in the KGB.”
The thin voice said, “I know who he is. Well, for once you and he are on the same side.”
“Yes, but he doesn’t know it. If anything happens to my cover, he’ll be on me like a ton of uranium and he undoubtedly has plenty of manpower on tap. Can’t you at least send me a couple of heavies from Paris, or wherever, to run interference?”
“Absolutely out of the question. Nobody must know about this but you and me.”
“All right,” Paul said in resignation.
“Good luck,” the thin voice said, before fading. “And reconsider that bonus.”
Paul Kosloff said bitterly, after deactivating the Tracy, “Does he think I’d take on a job like this for the sake of a bonus?”
He went over hurriedly to the scrambler and flicked off its stud.
For the next week, Paul Kosloff spent most of his time in the hotel, taking all of his meals there. He trusted the plastic surgery he’d had in Greater Washington but he was taking no chances. Altered facial features alone are insufficient to disguise a man. There’s the set of shoulders, the way the head is held, the stride, the shape of hands, and all the rest of it. Serge was up on such things and he had no desire to have the other spot him on the streets of Tangier.
On the third morning, he found an envelope that had been slipped under his door during the night. The note inside was typed.
It read: Tokugawa is in town. His cover is that he is a member of a Japanese trade mission here. He is staying at the Japanese embassy.
“It sounds like a convention,” Kosloff muttered. “Sverdlov, Tokugawa and myself.” He grunted. Battista was a more efficient operative than Paul Kosloff had originally given him credit for being.
There was nothing for it. He was going to have to check out the newcomer. He knew where Sverdlov stood, but not the Japanese. He couldn’t afford to begin operations and run the risk of coming up against him. Possibly, it was something entirely divorced from his own mission. Possibly, but he doubted it.
The approach might as well be a direct one. That evening he left the hotel by a side door and got into a cab as soon as possible. He ordered the driver to take him to the Japanese embassy. There was no way he could think of to avoid being seen entering the building, if the place was being observed.
He left the cab half a block from the embassy and walked, wanting the chance to case the place before entering. He couldn’t make out any obvious plants, however, nor even a local policeman.
He entered and approched the petite Japanese girl at the reception desk. She was in western garb and the room was furnished western style.
Her French was perfect. “Good morning, sir.”
Paul said, “I wish to see Colonel Tokugawa.”
Her almond eyes turned wary. “There is no Colonel Tokugawa here, sir.”
“Tokugawa Hidetada. Supposedly he’s here on a trade mission. Tell him Paul Kosloff wishes to see him.”
“I assure you, sir…”
Paul Kosloff simply looked at her.
She flicked on a desk communicator and spoke into it in Japanese, then listened. Her eyes widened slightly in surprise. She deactivated the device and looked up at him. “Yes, sir,” she said.
A door behind her opened and the top Japanese counter-espionage operative entered. By his appearance, he couldn’t have been less offensive, right down to his thick lensed glasses.
“Paul,” he said, his hand outstretched. “I didn’t recognize you at first. Plastic surgery, of course.”
Paul said, “Hidetada,” and they shook.
“Please come in here, Paul” the slightly built Japanese said, leading the way back through the door he had just entered from.
Beyond was an office, simply furnished. On the desk were several piles of what were obviously reports, all of them, of course, in Japanese.
“Sit down, Paul. It seems a long time since last we met during the Asian war.”
Paul Kosloff took a chair and said, “Yeah. And thanks all over again for taking those two commies off my back. I spent three months in the hospital afterward.”
The Japanese bowed his head agreeably in response and said, “It was my duty, Paul. We were on the same side… then.”
Paul Kosloff looked at him.
Tokugawa Hidetada said gently, “Paul, I am afraid we are not on the same side now.”
“Go on.”
“Paul, Japan desperately needs the raw materials of North Africa, resources that are largely going to the United States today. It is in our interest that El Hassan not come to power.”
“Granting that I know what you’re talking about, and I’m not admitting that, why?”
“He is a fanatic. From the rumors we have heard, we prefer his lieutenant Bey-ag-Akhamouk. Although Bey-ag-Akhamouk largely supports El Hassan, it is said that he is at the same time the leader of an element in their organization that has differences. Bey-ag-Akhamouk is an anti-American. You know, the American imperialism thing, so rumors tell us, at least. If he came to power, he would switch trade to Japan. However, he is faithful to El Hassan and on his own would never attempt to replace him. But if something happened to El Hassan, then it would be Bey-ag-Akhamouk who came to power.”
“I see. And you think the American State Department wishes to see El Hassan win his revolution?”
The Japanese said gently, “Of course. He is anti-Marxist.”
Paul thought about it. He said finally, “To sum it up, then, you wish this revolution to take place but you want Bey-ag-Akhamouk to take over rather than El Hassan.”
“Yes, Paul. And, believe me, in spite of past associations, I cannot let you stand in the way. Japan cannot. We must have the oil, iron, copper, nickel of North Africa, or we die.”
Paul Kosloff came to his feet. He said, “I’ll be seeing you, Hidetada.”
“Paul, I am warning you.”
“Yes, I know. I’ll be seeing you, Hidetada. The next time you write, give my regards to your wife. I’ll never forget that tempura she cooked for us.”
By the time he left the embassy, night was well along. The Hotel El Mekruk wasn’t as far as all that. He decided to walk and try to sort things out. It was unlikely that he would be spotted in this darkness.