Harry Kellogg III - The Red Sky - The Second Battle of Britain

In his mind he takes a more conciliatory tone.

But do not be too hard on him comrade he has done very well so far and I have confidence in him (because he knows too many of my secrets) and I am sure he will not fail again. This and the attack by the Capitalist battleships were mistakes but correctable ones comrade. Do not go too hard on him.

It does not do any harm to try and soften the blow for Lavrentiy. He is a dangerous man to cross and this is not worthy of his ire.

Ouch… damn… my toe hurts. I must have gout or something. Of all the time for this to happen. Oh damn it… it hurt!

The door opens and an aide beckons Novikov inside.

How does he do that? How did he know my foot would be hurting? He must have a witch on his payroll…

“Alexander Novikov, Chief Marshal of Aviation reporting as ordered Comrade.”

The door closes behind the aide as the aide leaves the room without looking back.

Lavrentiy Beria turned his thoughts from the rape of the young women in the next room to the list in front of him. It was hard to make the transition from the pleasures of the flesh, to thoughts of war, but not impossible. He had done it many times. Stalin had interrupted any number of sexual assaults, He had to run to the Cripple’s side and pretend that nothing was wrong any number of times. [26] Beria: Stalin’s First Lieutenant By Amy Knight He had to lick the boots of the only man in the world who terrified him. So far he had been able to leave the pleasure he was experiencing and endured the torture of being in Stalin’s presence, so far.

Someday… soon, he would have the pleasure of strangling the pock marked cripple with his own hands. At least that is what he fantasized about. Someday, but not today.

The list gave him almost as much pleasure as the young Georgian virgin he has just brutally attacked. On the list was his stable of spies spread throughout the world. Spies whose positions ranged from janitors and cooks to one of the men sitting next to President Truman. Spies who help decide what the vast factories of the Americans made and more importantly what they didn’t make. Amazing how one little piece of metal or a small spring, not produced in time, could do to a bomber, a tank or even the ammunition that each used.

The recruiter for the agents in the American War Production Board was incredible. He maybe too amazing. He would have to be interrogated to learn why he was so successful and possibly eliminated. You cannot have such a person, such an impressive recruiter, loose and uncontrolled.

The War Production Board had been called back into being, and many of his former agents were again deciding what should be produced and what shouldn’t. His agents did their job when America was producing the endless streams of bombers and tanks used to defeat the Nazi scum. They helped their allies make the right choices at the right time. They did anything to keep Lend Lease spewing forth its seemingly endless supply of war material. America went from producing 6,000 aircraft in 1940 to 85,000 in 1943 alone.

Now the situation had changed. With the Army Air Force switching to new jet planes and munitions, it would be quite understandable, if their production dropped dramatically and quality suffered with the transition. Yes, eventually the mistakes and errors would be discovered as deliberate. By that time the industrial and scientific might of the Soviet Union would be a match for even the Amerikosi. The Capitalist system was doomed, and the Communist system would prevail even without sabotage. It just needed time, and he would provide that time.

What did it matter that agents like Silvermaster, Perlo, Glazer and Fitzgerald were uncovered. By that time the war would be lost for the capitalists, and they would be expendable. Even the agents throughout the OSS like Neuann, Wheeler, Graze, Halperin and agent “Koch” could be replaced at will it seemed. Although Koch would be hard to replace. It would be hard to replace a man like Duncan Lee who is the Confidential Assistant to the so called “Wild Bill” Donovan head of the OSS.

The list went on and on. Many parts of the Capitalist scientific and weapons production programs were especially full of his agents. Everything from one of his agents smuggling out a machine gun prototype to the plans for the atomic bomb fell into his hands. Most of the major weapons of the Americans and British had been compromised. He had even engineered the defection of one of the leading designers of the newest Amerikosi jet engine. He knew as much or more about each than did Truman. Of particular note was the fact that he knew about the atomic bomb a full year before Truman did. It was pretty shocking yet true. Sometimes history is stranger than fiction.

And then of course, there was George Koval or agent Delmar, the man who stopped the production of the capitalist atomic bomb. The last message they had was that he was about to cross over the border to Canada, then nothing. Maybe the Mounted Police ran him over with their horses, somehow this was quite an amusing thought. The world’s greatest assassin, run over by a bunch of red coated cowboys. The man who used the world’s only supply of polonium to kill and cripple over a thousand of the West’s leading scientists.

The fact that thousands of their family members suffered also was of no concern. Delmar had undoubtedly saved hundreds of thousands of his countrymen’s lives. Imagine letting loose the world’s most deadly substance in a crowded room of atomic scientists and engineers not once, but twice by using small explosive devices in the air circulation system. George Koval was indeed a hero of the Soviet Union and would someday receive the recognition he deserved. George Koval the killer of the atomic bomb, at least for now.

Thanks to his spies and agents the Soviet Union was dictating the direction of the war. They were keeping the capitalists wondering where the next blow would fall. Keeping them back on their heels and reacting. They had to keep innovating. They had to keep pressing the advantages they had at the moment. They had to keep the NATO forces on the defensive. His life and the survival of the Soviet Union depended upon it. As long as that strange little Sergo person kept creating his wonders and that Georgie kept producing them, they would prevail.

He wondered how those Amerikosi movie starlets will react when they are alone in a room with Lavrentiy Beria. Alone with a man who had killed and raped hundreds. Alone with a man who lived to rape and terrorize young women. Dragged from their pampered lives and alone with a man who did not see them as human, just an object to be used and thrown away. Yes it would be most amusing. [27] Venona: Decoding Soviet Espionage in America By John Earl Haynes, Harvey Klehr

The rather unassuming looking freighter had docked in Vladivostok barely a week before the war started. Joel Barr was midway through a very long journey. Someone else would see to the cargo from here. His job was over for now. The busy harbor took no notice of the ship as it was pushed into the slip. They would take no notice when it started to unload its cargo and no one would care when it was put on a train and left the city going West.

No one would care until a few months later when its cargo started to show up in Soviet factories, design bureaus and laboratories. The Western nations would not become aware of what happened until months into World War Three. But let’s start from the beginning.

Joel Barr was born in New York City to immigrant parents of Ukrainian-Jewish origin. He attended college in New York and was recruited by Julius Rosenberg to spy for the Soviet Union and International Communist movement. He worked along with Rosenberg at the United States Army Signal Corps laboratories at Ft. Monmouth, NJ during the war against the Nazis.