The Espionage Game

by Susan Glinert Stevens

  “Oh, fuck,” Jerry swore, miffed by his stupidity.

  “Sir?” Cleo inquired, obviously confused by his expletive.

  “I dropped my goddamn gloves!” He leaned over the edge of the armrest and glared at the gloves, which were now just out of his reach. He’d have to unbuckle his safety harness to retrieve them. Cleo, anticipating his need to unbuckle, stoppedMary Sue in the taxiway.

  “Is that what it means?” Cleo queried innocently.

  “What?”

  “The word ‘fuck’?”

  “You don’t know what it means?” Jerry seemed surprised.

  Cleo took a second to respond. “Does it mean ‘I dropped my goddamn gloves’?”

  Jerry roared with laughter. “You mean you never heard that word uttered before? Not even once?” He asked incredulously.

  “No, Colonel Rodell, I haven’t,” Cleo responded indignantly. Jerry thought her tone was probably in response to his admittedly derisive laughter.

  “I’m sorry, Cleo,” he chuckled. “I wasn’t making fun of you. It’s just I find it, ah, shall we say, ah, unusual that you’ve spent so much time around a bunch of military people and never heard the word. ‘Fuck’ is one of their most common oaths.”

  “Oh, I see.” Cleo’s tone of voice conveyed her mystification.

  “I think, young lady, it’s time you learned a little about the world,” Jerry said. “Have you ever heard the words ‘shit’ or ‘piss’?”

  “No, Colonel,” Cleo answered, “I have no data.”

  Jerry Rodell’s eyebrows arched. “Boy, have you led a sheltered life! I bet Dr. MacCauley purposely kept you from those words.”

  Cleo didn’t respond to his last remark.

  He fingered the transmit button on the control stick. “Watertown ground, this is Golden Eagle Three-eight,” he called.

  “Golden Eagle Three-eight, ground.”

  “Ah, ground, I need to park someplace for a few minutes. I dropped my gloves, and I need to unstrap to recover them. Ah,” he hesitated, “I also need to spend a few minutes instructing my copilot.”

  “Roger, Golden Eagle Three-eight,” Joe DiConza replied, “taxi to holding area Alpha Niner. It’s one hundred yards ahead on the taxiway, to your right. Give a call when you’re ready to proceed.”

  “That’s a roger, ground. Golden Eagle Three-eight out.”

  Jerry Rodell quickly unbuckled his safety harness and had just begun to reach for the elusive gloves when he realized thatMary Sue was still stationary.

  “You heard the man,” he said. “Park us in Alpha Niner.”

  “But it’s not in the flight plan,” she protested.

  “Damnit, Cleo, do it!”

  Cleo obeyed instantly and throttled forward to taxi speed, while Jerry recovered the pesky gloves. As he buckled himself in again, he said, “Let’s start with a review of your vocabulary. Do you know what the word ‘vulgar’ means?”

  “It means ‘common, crude, boorish,’” she answered.

  “What’s a ‘cock’?”

  “A male bird,” she suggested. Jerry winced.

  “Ah, what’s a ‘pussy’?”

  “That means ‘cat,’” Cleo responded eagerly. Jerry’s expression turned to pain.

  “How about a ‘beaver’—no, that’s too esoteric.…”

  “But I know what a beaver is, Colonel,” Cleo broke in. “It’s a broad- tailed aquatic mammal that makes dams in streams and.…”

  “Cleo,” Jerry interrupted her, “what I meant is do you know a slang or vulgar meaning of the word?”

  After a long pause, Cleo sheepishly admitted, “No, Colonel, I have no data.”

  “How about less ambiguous words such as ‘prick,’ ‘cunt,’ and ‘ass- hole’?”

  Again, Cleo took longer than Jerry thought necessary before she admitting she did not. By then, she hadMary Sue neatly parked in the Alpha Niner holding area, so Jerry unbuckled his safety harness and made himself comfortable.

  “Jeezus, were you ever raised by a prude!” Jerry exclaimed. “It’s time for remedial education, Cleo. We’ll start with the word ‘fuck.’”

  Although officially out of radio contact with Jerry Rodell and Cleo, Joe DiConza could nevertheless hear every word being exchanged. Mindless of the fact that Dr. Madeline MacCauley was in her office located next to the simulator control room, he piped the conversation between Jerry and Cleo onto a loudspeaker so that the others in the room could enjoy every word. Separated from the control room by only a thin plywood wall, Madeline could hear as well. In fact, she couldn’t help but hear every word. At first, she simply sat at her desk, shocked. However, her face turned progressively redder as her anger became rage.

  “‘Fuck’ normally refers to the sexual act between male and female,” Madeline heard Jerry Rodell say. “However, it is one of the most useful words in the English language. It can be used as a noun, a verb—both transitive and intransitive, an adjective, as well as a simple interjection.…”

  Madeline sat at her desk for almost ten minutes, listening to Jerry Rodell improve Cleo’s vocabulary. Vivid with rage, she sat and stewed, furious at her inability to interfere.

  At last, Jerry completed his lecture. “Do you have any questions, Cleo?” he asked.

  Cleo took almost a half-minute to reply. “Yes, Colonel Rodell,” she inquired cautiously. “Do you and Dr. MacCauley fuck?”

  “WHAT!” he exclaimed.

  Madeline could hear Joe DiConza and Roger Kirby, his assistant, roaring with laughter. She was certain they were rolling on the floor by now. Tears came to her eyes.

  “I’ll cut your balls off, you bloody bastard!” she whispered hoarsely as she started searching her desk for a pair of scissors.

  “I used the right world, didn’t I?” Cleo begged.

  “I think that I’d better ask what caused you to ask that question,” Jerry replied with surprising delicacy.

  “Well, Dr. MacCauley … Maddy,” Cleo began haltingly, “well … she’s, she’s my mother—you see what I mean, Colonel Rodell?”

  “Yes,” Jerry answered compassionately, “I really think I understand that.”

  “Well,” Cleo paused, “well, Dr. Kelder told me that you’re going to teach me to be a combat pilot, so I can fight by myself and not get waxed. Isn’t that so?”

  Jerry was stunned. He never thought of that possibility, but he instantly recognized that it was inevitable: one day Cleo and her kind would be the fighter pilots, not men.

  “Yes,” he said. “That’s true. I’m going to teach you everything I know.”Even though it makes me obsolete, he added silently.

  “Then that makes you my father,” Cleo said rapidly so he couldn’t interrupt, “and shouldn’t you be fucking my mother?”

  “That’s not the word we use for that activity,” he replied quietly, but kindly. “We use the expression ‘make love’ in that situation. It is a gentle and loving act, full of compassion for each other.”

  “Do you make love with mother?”

  “No, Cleo, I do not,” Jerry responded in a near whisper.

  “Then you should make love to her,” Cleo asserted with unexpected conviction.

  They were back within the time allotted to the mission, and Colonel Jerry Rodell was quite pleased with the mission he’d just flown with Cleo. It had lasted nearly four hours and except for dropping his gloves, everything had gone without a hitch. It felt good—perfect missions always do.

  “Thanks, Joe,” Jerry said while he handed over his special flight helmet to Joe DiConza, the simulator operator. The door to the simulator room crashed open, and Madeline MacCauley streaked in like a SAM missile armed with a nuclear warhead, locked-on to Jerry Rodell.

  “You perverted, miserable excuse for a man!” she screamed, pointing her finger at him. “You filthy-mouthed, loathsome louse! How dare you teach such language to Cleo! After all I went through to keep such language from her! You had no right!”

  Madeline stopped just a foot from Jer
ry, her face fiery red. Shaking with rage, she arched her back and balled her fists, as though she were ready to pummel him.

  “How do you know what I did?” he challenged.

  “I heard you!”

  “You shouldn’t eavesdrop,” Jerry snarled in reply.

  “I didn’t have too,” she shouted into Jerry’s face. “He put what you and Cleo said on a loudspeaker so the whole damn building couldn’t help but hear.” Madeline pointed angrily at Joe DiConza, whose blush confirmed his guilt.

  “Listen, lady!” Jerry roared in a verbal counterattack. “Let’s get one thing straight, right now! Cleo isn’t your child, and she isn’t your property. Cleo is US government equipment designed to operate under combat conditions with fighter pilots. They’ve been known to use crude language under such conditions, and the one thing they can’t afford is their computer asking ‘Gee, what does that mean?’ whenever they use a swear word. Cleo had better know exactly what’s going on, or she’s liable to get somebody killed in a moment of indecision. Have I made my position clear?”

  Madeline was momentarily thwarted by Jerry’s forceful rebuke. However, she came roaring back an instant later.

  “You have no right to get Cleo to say those foul and disgusting things about me, you animal! You have the whole building buzzing about me, you libelous bastard.”

  Jerry Rodell’s face reddened to crimson.

  “LISTEN TO ME, LADY, IF YOU CAN!” he screamed at the top of his voice. “If you’d bothered listening to what you think you heard, you’d have realized that Cleo came up with that all by herself. I have no idea where she ever got the idea that you need to get laid, you man- hating bitch, but I have to agree with her. If you wait a minute, I’ll go get you fifty bucks so you can go down to Vegas and get some gigolo to do the job.”

  WHAP!

  Madeline hit Jerry’s face hard enough to snap his head to the right. The room was stone silent as Madeline glared at Jerry with fiery eyes, daring him to strike her back. Jerry inhaled deeply, and then again and again as the anger inside him raged. He raised himself up slightly on his toes as his hands balled into hardened fists.

  “You miserable man,” Madeline sneered. Jerry Rodell could see her lips move, but he didn’t hear her. His mind was somewhere else, replaying memories of a less-than-happy childhood. Replaying memories of a father who came home from drinking bouts with his buddies to beat his wife. Memories of a seven-year-old boy who tried to help his mother and ended up in the hospital with a broken arm. He had fallen down the stairs, his father told the doctors.

  “No,” he whispered aloud, remembering the promise he’d made to himself so many years ago; he’d never come so close to breaking that vow as he had just now.

  “No,” he uttered through clenched teeth. He wouldn’t strike back. Even with all the provocation, she was still a woman. Suddenly feeling small for having come so close, Jerry turned on his heel and marched to the door, leaving Madeline to hurl epithets after him.

  Madeline stormed into Fred Kelder’s shabby office and slammed the door behind her. “I want that man off the project,” she shouted. “He’s screwing it up!”

  “Who?” Fred asked quietly.

  “That Colonel Rodell!”

  “I can’t do that,” Fred replied calmly. “I need him.”

  “I’ll quit!” she insisted. She stopped in front of Fred Kelder’s desk and glared at him. Fred looked up.

  “I have to advise you not to make that ultimatum, Madeline,” he said. “You’d lose. We desperately need Colonel Rodell on this project. If you force the issue of choosing between the two of you, both General Winslow and I would have to choose Colonel Rodell.”

  “You want me off the project?” Madeline was stunned.

  “No, Maddy,” Fred answered gently as he got up. “Not at all. You contributed more to the success of this project than any five people I can name. Without you, it would have failed long ago. Now let’s sit down and talk about this civilly. We don’t need to shout, do we?”

  He took her arm, led her to the couch, and sat her in the middle. He then sat on the arm of one of the chairs and allowed her time to collect her thoughts.

  “Why is he so important?” she asked in a near-whisper, still shaken by the thought that Colonel Rodell was more important to the project than she was.

  “Because we need him to teach Cleo to fight. He’s a highly experienced combat fighter pilot, and.…”

  “But why can’t you do it? Train Cleo,” Madeline interrupted.

  Fred laughed and slid into the club chair sideways, leaving his legs to dangle over the arm. “You don’t understand, I’m too old to go gallivanting around at fifteen g’s. I’m limited by regulations to five g’s for a damn good reason. Jerry is something else—he can. Only he can teach Cleo what she needs to learn.”

  Madeline stared in silence. For the first time Fred realized that her eyes were bleary from crying, not anger.

  “But you didn’t hear what he did, the things he said—I mean, he got Cleo to say about me,” she protested.

  Fred pointed to a loudspeaker mounted on the wall near his desk. “I’m afraid I did, Maddy,” he replied, “along with every word of your, er, discussion with him afterwards. I’m afraid that I would have to say that you provoked it. As for what Cleo said, I would also have to say that he did not coax it out.…”

  “But he taught her all of those filthy words,” she interrupted.

  “Yes, he did,” Fred admitted, “and he was right to do so. I heard Cleo’s reaction the first time he use the word ‘fuck.’ She clearly lost her concentration when she heard the unfamiliar word. Had that happened in a combat situation, it might have cost someone his life. And believe me, given the nature of fighter pilots, she’s going to hear a lot more than what she learned today. Better she learn now than be confused at some inopportune moment.”

  Madeline bunched herself into a fetal-like ball, pulling her feet up onto the couch and wrapping her arms around her knees. She looked at her feet nervously. “What you’re saying is that I screwed up.”

  “No more than anyone else, Maddy. You’re tired. You haven’t been off the base for how long?”

  Madeline continued to look down. “Three months.”

  “That’s too long, Maddy. You need to have some fun. Why don’t you take some vacation? Go skiing for a week or so.”

  “You don’t need me any longer, do you?” she said, facing Fred Kelder. “I’ve done my part, and now it’s Colonel Rodell’s turn. I did my duty and raised my child to maturity so you and Colonel Rodell can make a soldier out of her.”

  “No!” Fred protested. “That’s not it at all! Where did you ever get that idea?”

  “You just told me that Colonel Rodell is now more important to the project than I am, didn’t you?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Lazarus’ stomach growled angrily as the meeting droned on; he would have paid a handsome price for a burger, fries and a shake. He checked his watch and winced; it was already well past eight o’clock.

  “Lazarus,” someone called.

  “Yes,” he answered. It was the president who had summoned him.

  “Are you prepared to explain our concerns regarding Velvet Rainbow?” the president asked.

  “Yes, sir, I am.” He got up and walked to the front of the room. He fought an urge to light his pipe, for the president himself had instituted the ban on smoking at the NSC meetings.

  Lazarus reached the podium and rested his hands on it. His stomach still churned, but no longer from hunger. He abhorred what he was about to do and say; he’d worked for years with some of the men in the room and had a profound respect for their abilities. Now he was about to tell them publicly that they’d screwed up. That wasn’t his style for he preferred to work quietly behind the closed doors. However, the orders came from President Hayward himself and that left him two choices: either he did what the president wanted, or his replacement would do it for him.

  “Gentlemen
,” he announced in a booming voice that surprised even himself, “we have learned that Velvet Rainbow has been penetrated. The SVR not only knows about the existence of the CLEO system, but fully understands its significance. They are also making plans to steal it.”

  “Impossible!”

  Lazarus Keesley glanced to his right. One of the Air Force generals was standing. Lazarus immediately recognized him to be Major General George Collins, Commander of the Air Force Office of Special Investigations and ultimately responsible for the security of all Air Force projects. Lazarus blushed when he realized that General Collins hadn’t been briefed before the meeting. Somebody, somewhere, was making an example of him.

  “Unfortunately true, George,” Lazarus responded firmly. “I’ve seen the evidence myself, and it’s irrefutable.”

  Slowly, painfully, General Collins sat again. Lazarus waited until he was reseated.

  “The president has asked that I head a special task force to determine how they learned about the true nature of Velvet Rainbow and eliminate the leak. A second task is to prevent the loss of the technical secrets that make Velvet Rainbow feasible. The inescapable conclusion is that the SVR has a mole placed in Velvet Rainbow.”

  Lazarus Keesley had to pause as the room filled with chatter. Everyone buzzed to his neighbor.

  “To this end,” he stated, raising his voice to drown out the noise, “I’ve formed a team consisting of personnel from all of our counterintelligence organizations, both civilian and military. This team consists of members of the FBI, the CIA, as well as the Air Force, Army, Navy and even Marine counterintelligence organizations. Some of you might not yet be aware of these extraordinary actions although the affected personnel might be under your command. That is because the action was carried out directly by the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Isn’t that so, Admiral Hillman?”

  “Yes, it is,” Admiral Hillman replied. “At President Hayward’s insistence.”