When Mannberg was out of earshot, Tiny said, “Absolutely fascinating. I’ve never seen anyone commit suicide before.”
“You think that’s what I did?”
“Gehlen will be on the phone to Mattingly thirty seconds after Mannberg tells him about this.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on!”
“We don’t have a secure line. Gehlen’s not going to get on an unsecure telephone and say, ‘Colonel Mattingly, let me tell you what your crazy young captain’s doing with the NKGB major we caught.’”
“Then he’ll go to Frankfurt and tell him in person.”
“Gehlen doesn’t want to go to Mattingly with this unless he has to. So before he does, he’ll try to reason with me. Or send Mannberg back to reason with me. I think it’ll take him two days — three, if we’re lucky — to realize I can’t be reasoned with. So we have that much time to get those names from Orlovsky.”
“And if he doesn’t give them to us?”
“I don’t know.”
“If he does, Jim, then what are you going to do with him, send him to Argentina?”
After a moment, Cronley said, “Now there’s a thought!”
“You didn’t think of that?” Dunwiddie asked incredulously.
Cronley’s face showed that he hadn’t.
“I’m so glad to hear that you’ve really thought this problem through,” Dunwiddie said. “Answered all the little ‘What if’s’ that came to mind.”
“I don’t think he’d believe me if I offered him Argentina,” Cronley said thoughtfully. “Why should he?”
“You have an honest face?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Cronley said, still thoughtfully. And then he ordered, “Get Tedworth on the phone. Tell him to bring Orlovsky back upstairs — at oh-five-hundred tomorrow. He should have had enough time to do some thinking by then. And at midnight, wake him up and feed him his lunch. Something nice, just so he thinks it’s lunch. I want to keep him confused about what time it is.”
[FIVE]
“Good afternoon, Major Orlovsky,” Cronley said as Staff Sergeant Lewis pulled the duffel bag from the Russian’s head.
Orlovsky, who was again barefoot and covered with the blanket tied around his body, didn’t reply.
“Captain, do you want me to take the cuffs off his ankles?” Lewis asked.
“Maybe that won’t be necessary,” Cronley said. “That will depend on the major’s reply to what I’m going to ask him.”
He waited until Orlovsky’s eyes had time to adjust from the darkness of the duffel bag to the light in the sitting room.
“Have you had a little time to think about what’s going to happen when they take you to NKGB headquarters in Berlin after they find you sitting tied up on the street by the Brandenburg Gate?”
“Of course I have,” Orlovsky said.
“You think they’re going to be just a little disappointed in you, allowing yourself to get caught here?”
Orlovsky didn’t reply.
“And wonder what information you shared with us?”
Orlovsky’s face remained expressionless.
“And I’m sure you’ve thought they are going to wonder if you really didn’t tell us a thing. And the unlikelihood that they will believe you when you assure them that you lived up to your obligations as an NKGB officer. And what that will mean for you. And I don’t just mean your being subjected to a lengthy interrogation.”
“Maybe we could save a little time, Captain Cronley, if I told you I’ve given my situation a good deal of thought.”
“Including what’s very likely to happen to your family?”
Orlovsky exhaled audibly.
“There’s not much I can do about that, is there?” Orlovsky asked.
“So, right now, you see the most likely scenario for your future is that after you fail to convince whoever runs the NKGB in Berlin that you lived up to your obligations as an NKGB officer, you will be shot in the back of your head, and your family will be sent to Siberia to remind other people like you of the price their families will pay for their failures.”
“Or that you will… dispose… of me here.”
“Which would have the same effect on your family. Consider this, Konstantin. If you don’t show up, simply disappear, the NKGB won’t really know that we’ve turned you, will they? They’ll think we simply disposed of you. In that case, I submit there’s a chance — a slight one, I admit — that they’ll decide you died in the line of duty, and are a hero of the NKGB. That would work to encourage others, and if they treated your family well… you can see where I’m going with this…”
The telephone on the sideboard rang.
Sonofabitch! Why did that have to go off right now?
Cronley gestured for Dunwiddie to answer it and snapped, “I’m not available.”
“No,” Orlovsky said, “I don’t see where you’re ‘going with this.’”
“Your other option is to let me arrange for you to disappear. And I don’t mean into an unmarked grave here in the monastery cemetery.”
“Twenty-third CIC, Dunwiddie.”
“Disappear? How would I disappear? And you can’t keep me in that cell forever.”
“I can arrange for you to go somewhere safe.”
“I doubt that. I’m a little surprised that you really thought you could offer me a refuge someplace in exchange for those names and I would turn them over to you.”
“What about if I got you refuge somewhere, after which you would give me the names?”
“I’m sorry, Captain Cronley is not available.”
“And once you had given me the names, and I establish they are the names of the people you’ve turned, I put Gehlen to work getting your family out of Russia. You know he’s got well-placed people in Moscow.”
“You cannot expect me to take you seriously?”
“Sir, could I have Captain Cronley call you in ten minutes?”
“I’m perfectly serious, Konstantin. I’m offering you a new life in Argentina.”
“Why would you expect me to believe something like that?”
“Aside from the fact that I’m telling you the truth, you mean? I’m not promising we can get your family out of Russia, but I’m promising I’ll make Gehlen try. If you were a man, you’d take the chance to do whatever you could for your family.”
“You sonofabitch!”
Dunwiddie carried the telephone to Cronley and extended it to him.
“I don’t give a damn who it is. Tell him I’ll call him back.”
“Mattingly,” Dunwiddie said.
Oh, shit!
Cronley took the telephone.
“Colonel, I can’t talk to you right now. I’ll call you—”
“Who the hell do you think you are, Cronley? You’ll talk to me whenever I want to talk to you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“What the hell is going on down there?”
“Sir, I’m interrogating… our guest.”
“At five o’clock in the morning?”
“Yes, sir.”
“The interrogation is over.”
Cronley didn’t reply.
“The answer I expect is, ‘Yes, sir.’”
“Yes, sir.”
“We’ll discuss that situation when I see you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“How soon can you be at Eschborn?”
“Eschborn?”
“Goddamn you, Cronley, when I ask you a question, I expect an answer. How soon can you be at Eschborn?”
“Well, it’s about a three-hour flight, give or take. And I don’t know when daybreak is…”