Джон Болл - The First Team

“Perfectly you do not, but you are confessed to be very good. I have now massive work to do and insufficient time so I will come directly to the edge. I can make use of you if you will undertake to obey what I tell you. Loyalty I do not expect and would not belief if you pretended it. Obedience, yes. I have staffing of my own people, but many of them have not been here before. You are muchly traveled through this country; as you say — you know your way.”

Hewlitt nodded.

“It is not that you will be my assistant,” Zalinsky went on. “I will not allow that. You will have certain necessary permits to your convenience… what is the word I want?”

“Advantage,” Hewlitt supplied.

“Correct — advantage. This is not a…”

“Bribe.”

Zalinsky stiffened slightly. “I have the acquaintance of that word,” he said.

“I expect that you would.” Hewlitt hated himself the moment the words were out of his mouth; he had been unable to resist the temptation to be glib. He looked at Zalinsky and was almost terrified by the penetrating look in the man’s eyes.

“After this, you will not correct me unless I made a definite ask — is that clear?”

Hewlitt retreated rapidly. “Yes, Mr. Zalinsky.”

“I will then trial you at this new function. You will keep yourself where you are at the same office for the same times of day. If I demand you in the evening, you will be called.”

“Do you wish me to always be at home, sir?” It was a gamble, because if the men answered “yes,” he would be all but a prisoner in his apartment. He took the chance because a “no” would carry with it automatic permission to be out as much as he liked; it would lift the cloud he had lived under the night before.

“No. Except that I may tell you.”

Hewlitt nodded again to indicate that the arrangement was agreeable with him. He was minutely careful to be entirely respectful this time; another ill-advised outburst could be the end of everything.

“Once more,” Zalinsky said. “You have read in the paper the instruction to the people of this country?”

“Yes, Mr. Zalinsky.”

The man behind the desk leaned forward and planted his elbows firmly. “Believe this,” he said. “For the people at large it is a warning — for you it is much more. You comprehend this?”

“Fully, Mr. Zalinsky.” It was a tiny thing, but he might be able to “Mr. Zalinsky” him to death. He had asked for it — he would get it.

“It is good. You are intelligent, we know this. Do as instructed and you will be to your advantage. But!”

That same trick again!

“If you for any moments at all believe that you can betray us I will be without bending. You will pay the price at once. Is this clear to you?”

Hewlitt’s blood froze but he did not allow his face to betray him. “Yes, Mr. Zalinsky.”

“It is good. Do not believe that you can fool us, it is impossible. You are children at this; we have just taught this to you. From this hard lesson — learn!”

Hewlitt opened his mouth to say, “Yes, Mr. Zalinsky,” but thought better of it in time. “I will,” he answered instead.

“Good,” Zalinsky said. “You will go.”

Hewlitt went back to his office, his mind full of the interview he had just had. On the surface it appeared not too bad; for the time being at least his life could continue relatively undisturbed. His only continuing frustration was the lack of anything significant to do. He ached for action, but there was nothing immediately available except to continue with his reading and to wait for a communication of some kind from Landers. He had a considerable degree of confidence now in the young Air Force major; his experience in Washington was limited, but in his strictly military capacity his performance had been superb.

He returned to his book and tried to apply himself in order to make the time pass if nothing else. Through pure determination he succeeded; he was so deeply engrossed he was hardly aware of it when Landers did come quietly into his office. The officer held a magazine in his hand, which suggested that his visit was a casual one.

Hewlitt came to and motioned toward a chair. Landers ignored it, preferring to stand next to the desk. “I just came by to return your magazine,” he said. “I think you were right, the piece on the Alaskan Air Command was probably written by an Air Force man under another name. But it was carefully done and under other circumstances I’d say that it didn’t do us any harm at all.”

Hewlitt had never seen or heard of the magazine before, but he responded promptly. “I thought that you ought to see it,” he said.

He was rewarded when the major nodded almost imperceptibly to show his approval.

Hewlitt felt a light flush of satisfaction; he looked up, lifting his eyebrows slightly, to see if Landers had more to say to him.

“Have you received any orders yet?” the major asked.

“Nothing definite.”

“Me either. I’m sure that Mr. Zalinsky will send for me when he wants me. I’m practicing the ‘mister’ since he so definitely wants it that way. You remember.”

Hewlitt nodded. “I do. Thanks for the magazine.”

As soon as Landers had left Hewlitt played the conversation back in his mind. The major had been ultracautious, assuming that the office had been wired. The need for security had been drilled deep into everyone who had been assigned to the White House, now that preparation was about to pay off in a new way.

Hewlitt forced himself to continue his reading for a while just in case, through some devilish technique, he had been placed under visual observation. When he had allowed enough time to pass he put the book down, stretched his limbs without getting out of his chair and then picked up the magazine. It was elementary that Landers had left it for some reason; it only remained to find out what the reason vfas.

The solution was so simple that Hewlitt felt he had been cheated out of an opportunity to use his brain. He turned to the story on Alaska and there found a bit of flimsy inserted in the pages. The message on it was brief: Be home at 19:30 tonight.

Hewlitt continued to turn the pages, wondering if it was actually possible that he was under observation and trying to decide if the enemy would consider a full-time watch over him worthwhile. His judgment told him that it was most unlikely. A bug, quite possibly yes, but an optical device was almost impossible. He played it safe nonetheless. First he opened the center drawer of his desk and propped the magazine open on it. Then he spread the pages until the bit of paper fell out and dropped down on top of the pencils and other material he kept at hand.

He was sure that no one was watching, but it was a rehearsal. The time might well come when he would have to do something like this under scrutiny and he wanted to know how. After some time he put the magazine down and made a pretext of straightening out the contents of the drawer. While he was doing so he contrived to roll the flimsy into a tiny ball. When his pretended housekeeping was finished he took out a roll of Life Savers, peeled open the package, and put one of the candy discs into his mouth. With it went the message. He was not entirely satisfied with the way that he had performed the maneuver, but he felt sure that if anyone had been watching he would not have noticed anything amiss.

His mind was too full to talk to Frank on the way home; he was grateful that the Negro driver understood this and left him alone. When he was back in his apartment he showered and stepped on the scale. He had gained one pound, but the reading was not entirely accurate and if the added weight was there he would have it off before morning. He ate lightly while he watched the TV news program that he found most reliable at that hour. The announcer had almost nothing to say; it was obvious to Hewlitt that he had been muzzled and was trying to walk a tightrope in the dark. Somehow, with the practiced skill of a professional, he managed to stay on the air for fifteen minutes without reporting anything beyond neighborhood fires and a shake-up in the staff of Georgetown University. It was totally sterile, but Hewlitt was quite accustomed to hearing newscasts which included none of the real events of the day because the facts were classified and had not been made public. However, there had always been something to talk about before; tonight the evidence of enforced, near-total restraint had been blatant. Perhaps the announcer had intended it that way — as a warning. It could have been his way of fighting back; if so, that made him another member of the team.