“Why?”
“I seem to remember reading that the parents of the young pilot had been in contact with the Soviet Embassy in Washington to suggest an exchange. Their son for Colonel Abel.”
“I don’t think the American government feel that that is a fair exchange.”
“But why should they prefer an Englishman instead of an American?”
“We have asked for their collaboration and they have agreed.”
Lutz smiled and stood up. “You must be very tired after your journey or I’d suggest that I go to my office a couple of blocks away and talk with my clients. And then come back and talk with you.”
“I’d be very happy to do that. I’d like to get it settled, one way or another.”
Lutz stopped with his hand on the doorknob. “That’s something we didn’t discuss Mr. Shapiro. What if my clients can’t find their way to co-operate?”
Shapiro shrugged. “That would be the end of the matter so far as we were concerned.”
“You wouldn’t be prepared to go ahead with the rumoured exchange of Abel for the American pilot?”
“No.”
“May I ask why not?” Lutz said softly.
“As I said earlier. It’s a grossly uneven exchange—a senior KGB officer for a young plane pilot. It’s not on, Mr. Lutz. I’m sure your clients will realise that.”
It was almost midnight when Lutz returned. He wasted no time. As he sat down he said, “My people’s reaction was not entirely what I hoped for.” As he saw the grim look on Shapiro’s face he shook his head. “No great problem, Mr. Shapiro. In fact, general agreement but with two sets of conditions. Conditions that I think you will find acceptable.”
“What are the conditions?”
“Let me give you the situation as it now is. The case of your man Kretski—Summers—there is no problem. He can be exchanged.” Lutz shrugged. “The problem of course was Hayhanen. The hardliners in the KGB would obviously like to get their hands on such a man. A man who betrayed his trust in every possible way.
“Then we come to Powers, the pilot. He is no longer of any interest to Moscow. He was tried and sentenced publicly. He confessed. He served his purpose. He can be released too. That would allow the exchange to be made public.
“So we come to Colonel Abel. An honourable man who has behaved as we should expect a Soviet citizen to behave who fell foul of—shall we say—antagonistic authority.”
Lutz leaned back in the chair. “So, reluctantly, the exchange you ask for will be accepted. Provided …” and Lutz wagged a monitory finger, “… provided we can agree on the two sets of conditions. Condition number one I imagine is no real problem. It is what you want as much as my friends do. I refer to complete secrecy. Not just at the time of the exchange, but permanently. No hints in the press. No books, no articles about a spy who came in from the cold. You know what I mean?”
“Of course. Both sides have a vested interest in keeping it secret.”
“And complete denial if there should ever be questions from the media or in Parliament or Congress?”
“Definitely. No problem. What’s the second condition?”
“The second condition is just an act to show good faith.” He paused. “If at some time in the future we should want an exchange for Gordon Lonsdale and the Krogers it would be seriously considered.”
“You know the problem that arises from that?”
“I can think of one—but you tell me.”
“My people could perhaps visualise some innocent British subject being arrested in Moscow and accused of espionage just to effect an exchange for Lonsdale and the Krogers.”
Lutz shrugged. “I can only assure you, my friend, that that is not likely to happen. My people are not all that concerned about Lonsdale’s fate—or the Krogers’ for that matter.”
“OK.” Shapiro nodded. “I agree to both conditions.” He paused. “How can we arrange the details of the exchanges? Dates, locations, et cetera.”
“How long are you prepared to stay on in Berlin, Mr. Shapiro?”
“If it pushes things along I’ll stay however long it takes.”
32
Soon after the midnight head count at the Atlanta prison two men showed the release note to the Warden. Half an hour later prisoner number 80016–A was roused from his sleep and told to dress. Rudolph Abel dressed slowly and meticulously and then walked with the two FBI agents to the waiting car.
The Delta jet took off promptly at 2 a.m. and at 5.30 a.m. Abel was taken into the federal detention house on West Street, New York. Throughout the next day, Wednesday, the prisoner was kept out of the way of anyone who could possibly recognise him, apart from the agents guarding him.
Twice, a time was set for his departure, and twice it was cancelled, but on the Thursday afternoon the clearance came through. The car holding Abel was the middle car in a three-car convoy heading for McGuire Air Force Base. When they drove into the base Abel and the two agents transferred into a station wagon which drove down the runway right up to the waiting plane.
It was a big Super-Constellation transport plane usually at the disposal of a USAAF general. Spacious and comfortable, its curtains drawn. The crew waited confined in the cockpit until 6 p.m., when they were given orders to take off. Neither the captain nor the navigator had any idea where they were heading for. But once they were air-borne they were told that they were on a secret mission and their destination was Wiesbaden. But they were not told who they were carrying on board or any details apart from their destination.
Just the fact that Moscow had agreed to Abel’s return made the controllers of the operation especially cautious. With the cynicism of their trade they had considered the possibility that Moscow’s previous indifference to having Abel back could be because he was out of favour. The possibility that Abel’s restlessness could be because he was, in fact, apprehensive as to his
