Bob Benson of the CIA shook his head vigorously.
“I don’t think it’s that simple, Mr. President. As I read it, it’s not a question of convincing Rudin or Rykov. There’s a vicious faction fight now going on inside the Politburo, as we know. At stake is the succession to Rudin. And the famine is hanging over them.
“Vishnayev and Kerensky have proposed- a limited war as a means both of obtaining the food surpluses of Western Europe and of imposing war discipline on the Soviet peoples. Revealing what we know to Rudin would change nothing. It might even cause him to fall. Vishnayev and his group would take over; they are completely ignorant of the West and the way we Americans react to being attacked. Even with the element of surprise gone, with the grain famine pending they could still try the war option.”
“
I agree with Bob,” said David Lawrence. “There is a parallel here with the Japanese position forty years ago. The oil embargo caused the fall of the moderate Konoye faction. Instead, we got General Tojo, and that led to Pearl Harbor. If Maxim Rudin is toppled now, we could get Yefrem Vishnayev in his place. And on the basis of these papers, that could lead to war.”
“Then Maxim Rudin must not fall,” said President Matthews.
“Mr. President, I protest,” said Poklewski heatedly. “Am I to understand that the efforts of the United States are now to be bent toward saving the skin of Maxim Rudin? Have any of us forgotten what he did, the people liquidated under his regime, for him to get to the pinnacle of power in Soviet Russia?”
“Stan, I’m sorry,” said President Matthews with finality. “Last month I authorized a refusal by the United States to supply the Soviet Union with the grain it needs to head off a famine. At least until I knew what the perspectives of that famine would be. I can no longer pursue that policy of rejection, because I think we now know what those perspectives entail.
“Gentlemen, I am going this night to draft a personal letter to President Rudin, proposing that David Lawrence and Dmitri Rykov meet on neutral territory to confer together. And that they confer on the subject of the new SALT Four arms-limitation treaty and any other matters of interest.”
When Andrew Drake returned to the Cavo d’Oro after his second meeting with Captain Thanos, there was a message waiting for him. It was from Azamat Krim, to say he and Kaminsky had just checked into their agreed hotel.
An hour later Drake was with them. The van had come through unscathed. During the night, Drake had the guns and ammunition transferred piece by piece to his own room at the Cavo d’Oro in separate visits from Kaminsky and Krim. When all was safely locked away, he took them both out to dinner. The following morning, Krim flew back to London, to live in Drake’s apartment and await his phone call. Kaminsky stayed on in a small pension in the back streets of Piraeus. It was not comfortable, but it was anonymous.
While they were dining, the U.S. Secretary of State was locked in private conference with the Irish Ambassador to Washington.
“If my meeting with Foreign Minister Rykov is to succeed,” said David Lawrence, “we must have privacy. The discretion must be absolute. Reykjavik in Iceland is too obvious; our base at Keflavik there is like U.S. territory. The meeting has to be on neutral territory. Geneva is full of watching eyes; ditto Stockholm and Vienna. Helsinki, like Iceland, would be too obvious. Ireland is halfway between Moscow and Washington, and you still foster the cult of privacy there.”
That night, coded messages passed between Washington and Dublin. Within twenty-four hours, the government in Dublin had agreed to host the meeting and proposed flight plans for both parties. Within hours, President Matthews’s personal and private letter to President Maxim Rudin was on its way to Ambassador Donaldson in Moscow.
Andrew Drake at his third attempt secured a person-to-person conversation with Captain Nikos Thanos. There was by then little doubt in the old Greek’s mind that the young Englishman wanted something from him, but he gave no hint of curiosity. As usual, Drake bought the coffee and ouzo.
“Captain,” said Drake, “I have a problem, and I think you may be able to help me.”
Thanos raised an eyebrow but studied his coffee.
“Sometime near the end of the month the Sanadria will sail from Piraeus for Istanbul and the Black Sea. I believe you will be calling at Odessa.”
Thanos nodded. “We are due to sail on the thirtieth,” he said, “and yes, we will be discharging cargo at Odessa.”
“I want to go to Odessa,” said Drake. “I must reach Odessa.”
“You are an Englishman,” said Thanos. “There are package tours of Odessa. You could fly there. There are cruises by Soviet liners out of Odessa. You could join one.”
Drake shook his head.
“It’s not as easy as that,” he said. “Captain Thanos, I would not receive a visa for Odessa. My application would be dealt with in Moscow, and I would not be allowed in.”
“And why do you want to go?” asked Thanos with suspicion.
“I have a girl in Odessa,” said Drake. “My fiancée. I want to get her out.”
Captain Thanos shook his head with finality. He and his ancestors from Chios had been smuggling in the eastern Mediterranean since Homer was learning to talk, and he knew that a brisk contraband trade went into and out of Odessa, and that his own crew made a tidy living on the side from bringing such luxury items as nylons, perfume, and leather coats to the black market of the Ukrainian port. But smuggling people was quite different, and he had no intention of getting involved in that.
“I don’t think you understand,” said Drake. “There’s no question of bringing her out on the Sanadria. Let me explain.”
He produced a photograph of himself and a remarkably pretty girl sitting on the balustrade of the Potemkin Stairway, which links the city with the port. Thanos’s interest revived at once, for the girl was definitely worth looking at.
“I am a graduate in Russian studies of the University of Bradford,” said Drake. “Last year I was an exchange student for six months, and spent those six months at Odessa University. That was where I met Larissa. We fell in love. We wanted to get married.”
Like most Greeks, Nikos Thanos prided himself on his romantic nature. Drake was talking his language.