Da Costa said, “That still leaves the problem of Powers, Joe.”
Shapiro shook his head slowly. “Powers isn’t a problem. He’s our ace in the hole.”
“How come?”
“We do the deal with Moscow so that as far as the rest of the world is concerned we exchange Abel for Powers. The deal for Phoenix is a secret deal. Never to be revealed by either side. And he doesn’t come over at Check-point Charlie or any of the usual Berlin crossing points.”
Macleod nodded. “And if the Russians say no?”
“We stick to our position. No deal for our guy means no deal for Abel.”
Nowak said, “And what if Langley or the White House say ‘no’?”
“And you trade Abel just for Powers?”
“Yep.”
Shapiro pursed his lips reflectively. “Well, apart from the whole of the Western world thinking you were either very naive or very weak to trade a top Soviet spy for a run-of-the-mill pilot, I’d say you would be wise to reflect on what effect it would have on your relationship with SIS.”
Da Costa said quickly, “Are you talking with official backing when you say that, Joe?”
“Not at all. I’m not even suggesting that it would be official government policy or even official SIS policy. But a lot of top people in SIS would have very hard feelings about working with CIA or the FBI in future.”
Da Costa said, “That’s blackmail, Joe.”
Shapiro shook his head vigorously. “It’s not, Mr. da Costa. And let me assure you that if I thought that blackmail was the only way then I’d resort to blackmail. All I’m asking for is help and consideration from my colleagues. You people.”
Macleod raised his eyebrows. “It’s rather more than help and consideration, Joe.”
“It’s very urgent, Robbie. Desperately urgent. I need a quick reaction.”
Macleod nodded and looked at the others. “I’ll take our friends back to their hotel. I’ll be back in about an hour. Kick it around while I’m away.”
Da Costa stood up. “Before you go, what’s your view, Robbie?”
“I go for it. But with a proviso. It has to be approved by State and the Director CIA.” Macleod turned to the two Britishers. “Let’s go.”
When Macleod and the Englishmen had gone da Costa walked over to the window. For a few minutes he stood there and then turned to look at Nowak.
“What d’you think?”
“You’re against it, aren’t you?”
“Not really. But I don’t think it’ll work.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t think the KGB will play ball. Not two for one.”
“They’ve had all they want out of Powers. A trial, a public confrontation, an abject apology for being a naughty boy. What more can they get out of him? And the world won’t know it’s two for one.”
“It’ll take weeks to negotiate. According to what Shapiro said their chap could be dead by then.”
“All the more reason for the Russians to get their fingers out.”
“And we give up any chance we’ve got of getting Abel to come over to us and spill the beans.”
“He won’t come over. They’ve tried everything they know. He just smiles and shakes his head. He’s built up this image of himself now. The friendly, intelligent and patriotic soldier who bears his punishment with dignity and courage. He’d never abandon that for being a defector.”
“What will the brass say d’you reckon?”
“The Director CIA will say ‘yes.’ The Secretary of State will say ‘no.’ ”
“And then?”
“It’ll be up to the President. I’d guess he’ll say ‘yes.’ ”
Late the same evening Macleod drove Shapiro out to CIA HQ at Langley and they sat in a small office with a microfiche reader and a small bundle of fiches, marking the CIA references of typical material that had come from Phoenix.
It was 4 a.m. when they finished and a secretary had typed up the list. The information concerned had been collated onto two fiches while Macleod and Shapiro slept in a couple of small duty officers’ bunks. Macleod woke Shapiro at 8 a.m. with shaving kit and talked to him as he washed and shaved.
As Nowak had forecast, the response from the CIA Director had been positive, and from the State Department negative. The President would make the decision. He would be at his desk by 8.30, would sample the information on the fiches and make his decision. He might ask to see Shapiro and ask some questions: Macleod was to put the facts to the President verbally.
It was 11 a.m. when Macleod returned. The President had agreed after seeing the representative samples of the kind of information that Phoenix had been supplying. He had even wished them luck and had asked to be kept informed.
29
Although Nowak had been so determined to get a conviction against Colonel Abel he was aware that the prosecution had sailed very near the wind to get that conviction. And he was aware too that they had not been able to establish even one actual act of espionage against the Russian. Now it was all over he felt a sneaking respect for the man who had refused to talk or co-operate in any way, and he was pleased to be the bearer of good news.
He sat at the plain wooden table in the prison office block waiting for the Russian to be shown in. A week-old copy of Pravda which he had brought with him lay on the table alongside a carton of Marlboros. When he heard the footsteps in the corridor outside he stood up and faced the door. He was shocked by the Russian’s appearance. He was much thinner, his clothes hanging loose on his gaunt frame and his steps unsteady. He waved the old man to the chair and sat down facing him.
“I’ve got some good news for you, Colonel.”
The old man nodded but said nothing.
“We’re trying to negotiate an exchange with Moscow. You for one of our own men.”
When Abel still made no reply Nowak said, “Are you OK, Colonel? Are you feeling all right?”
The old man looked
