“Let us deal with basic simplicities. It is clear that in the United States a man is elected because of a combination of money and influence. You stated this many times in different ways. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
“All I am saying is that we have the money, and the influence to get a man elected. That is a fact, yes?”
“Maybe. I’m not sure.”
“Which do you doubt, comrade? The money or the influence?”
“It depends what level of election we are talking about.”
“State Governor.”
“That would cost a lot of dollars.”
Abel’s eyebrows went up, and his thin lips were scornful.
“The cost of a small patrol boat?”
“I guess so.”
“So you doubt the influence, yes?”
“Yes.”
“How many politicians do you know, comrade?”
“Several hundred.”
“Important businessmen?”
“The same.”
“Trades Union leaders?”
“A dozen.”
“Fine. And you are only one of our people in the United States. We have three or four more of your calibre, hundreds who are efficient and tens of thousands who can carry out simple instructions. Is that influence enough?”
“Sure. But there’s the question of finding a man. The timing. There are specific qualifications.”
“Time—we have decades, comrade. Qualifications are age, residence, citizenship and no criminal record, yes?”
“And willingness to co-operate.”
Abel smiled coldly, and looked at Andropov who nodded.
“I think we have such a man.” Abel leaned forward towards Kleppe. “One of the people reporting to me from the United States has the possibility of such a man. He wishes to be in politics for business reasons. He is young, a typical American, little money, no influence, likeable but almost no chance of political success. He lacks the two ingredients you identified—money and influence. We could supply those.”
“How could we approach him?”
Abel nodded and smiled. “We have no need to do that. The person who reports to me is this man’s friend from schooldays, from university.”
“And how should we control the control?”
“That would be your responsibility, comrade. The control is already known to you. He is obligated to us, and obligated to you. He has co-operated for five years without reward. Not extensively, because we have not asked for much. But he will do as we ask without pressure.”
Kleppe smiled. “I’d prefer with pressure.”
“Ah well, comrade. There are some points of pressure.”
“Who is the man? Your contact?”
“Dempsey. Andrew Dempsey.”
“I don’t know him.”
“You do, actually. We instructed you to get him out of Fresnes in 1968. And his lover Tcharkova.”
“My God, yes. A young fellow. The scene at the airport. Those fools from our embassy. Yes. That has possibilities. Who is his friend?”
“A man named Powell. Logan Powell. We thought we would try to make him State Governor of Connecticut.”
“And then?”
Abel shrugged. “And then maybe nothing. Or maybe we do the same exercise elsewhere. It is an experiment, a tactical exercise. What our friends in the US would call practical democracy.”
Kleppe laughed. “It could be very interesting.”
“It will be, comrade. It will be.”
He had spent a week with Abel and his team planning the details, and being given a picture of the Soviet resources in Connecticut and New York that were not already known to him.
They had given him a letter and some photographs from Halenka Tcharkova. The photographs were of the girl and her daughter.
But that had all been years ago. They had done what they set out to do. And more. They had made their man the Governor of Connecticut. And now he was President-Elect of the United States. They had put up a complex of heavily guarded buildings thirty kilometres outside the Moscow Ring Road. And over two hundred specialists had planned the operation, analysed the reports and given advice to their people on the ground in the USA. People who had worked day after day to help Powell’s campaign had no idea that they were serving some Soviet end. And others had worked with single-minded dedication, knowing that they were working for the Soviet Union but without any idea of what the Soviet plan might be.
He had been reluctant at first, despite the planning, to risk his KGB record on the back of this audacious operation. But as the months went by the impossible became possible and the possible a fact.
What was so amazing was that it had not, in fact, been difficult. It had been hard work. But no harder than the two American political parties normally experienced in State and Federal elections. It was just that there were no balloons, no smoke-filled back rooms. There were no discussions, no wheeler-dealing; people were given orders and they carried them out. Even the cheating, conniving, and pressures were little more than politicians normally employed. But there was no need for fund-raising except as a show, and the secret workers were not motivated for a few months. They had been motivated for years. What was more, they knew that their candidate could actually deliver what he promised. There would be genuine benefits for all. For just under thirty million dollars in cash the Soviet Union would have the Americans out of Europe. The end of NATO and the end of Europe as an independent entity. Not a shot fired, and the United States would be limited to its own territory. Slowly being squeezed, decade by decade. Even the Soviet’s most hawk-like plans had only envisaged its destruction, not its occupation. And as Krushchev once said, “The wolf does not fear the dog, but his bark.”
The Kremlin were amazed and euphoric about their success and his own position was established for all time. There would be pressures and arguments about how Powell would be controlled, but he could cope with all that. And when the crunch came he would bow out gracefully and let them take over.
The car came for him at twenty to ten and when he went up to the meeting there were smiling faces waiting for him. The congratulations were
