***
Darby drove along the narrow streets, glancing periodically in the rearview mirror.
“So you’re the new gal.”
“Yes, I’m the new officer.”
He ignored her correction. “All right then. Let’s go over a few standard precautions. You’ll need to be careful while you’re here. Hungary might look like a cushy post in some ways, especially compared to other East and Central European assignments, but there is some real danger here. Always keep in mind, most of the embassy offices…”
“…are bugged. Yes, I know that. Sensitive information needs to be encrypted using Magpie, and there’s a secure room on the second floor of the embassy that directional microphones don’t reach. Where are the dead drops located?”
“Well, I guess you aren’t a complete greenhorn.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve completed my training at The Farm.”
“Baby, that’s only the beginning.” He merged into evening traffic. “The only drop you need to know is in People’s Park; that’s the one you’ll use. Most of what we’re collecting in Budapest is information about economic expansion—plans for factories, shipping routes, etc.” He shrugged. “Boring stuff, really. Especially compared to the disappearances in Prague, but I suppose boring is a good thing. As Soviet minions go, the Hungarian government is relatively tame. However, that doesn’t mean you can be careless. You’re expected to follow protocols and procedures without exception even if you make friends of the locals or start dating some young Hungarian stud.”
Elizabeth sniffed. “I know my job. I’m sure the new chief of station will be satisfied with my work.” Darby might have been the more experienced officer, but he wasn’t her official boss, and she wanted him to know it.
“Then we won’t have any problems.”
He took a corner almost on two wheels, forcing Elizabeth against his side. “What are you doing?”
He glanced in his rear view mirror. “We’ve got a tail. I’ll try to lose him. Where’s your flat?”
“Number 4 Molnar Street.”
“I have a good sense of direction. I should be able to wind around and come in the back way.”
An awkward silence settled over them.
“So, you’re fluent in Hungarian.”
“Yes, I am, you arrogant jerk,” Liz replied in practiced Magyar, ending with a sweet smile.
“You do sound like a local, but that innocent expression tells me I may have just been roundly insulted.”
“Well, aren’t you observant? You’re a bit of a horse’s ass, but you do have lovely eyes.”
“Hmm.”
They rode on through the city, passing old, dilapidated buildings and burned out streetlights, until they came to the stretch of buildings on Molnar.
“It seems the powers that be know you’re new here. The secret police are waiting on the other side of the street. Who got your apartment for you?”
“Some officer with cover in the State Department—Collins, I think?”
“No wonder the Hungarian government knows where you are. Collins is an idiot.”
“I’m starting to get the impression that everyone’s an idiot except you.”
He turned to her, flashing what her stepfather would have called a shit-eating grin. “Now you’re learning, Ms. Hertford. It will save us a lot of time and consternation if you assume I’m always right.”
“How do you know this audience across the street is because of me? How do you know they didn’t track your car? Or that it isn’t bugged right now?”
“I swept the car for bugs myself this afternoon. And nobody can follow me if I don’t allow it.” He got out of the car and jogged around to open her door.
“A gentleman. Who would have thought?”
“Gotta complete the suave, dashing diplomat disguise.”
When they got to the door, he leaned in close to her ear. “Not to intrude or anything, but I should probably come in for a little while.”
“Just how far are you planning on taking this little charade?” A frisson of alarm that felt suspiciously like excitement moved through her.
“Only to your sitting room, so don’t get the wrong idea.”
He looked around the apartment as Liz flipped on a light and put her evening bag on the counter. “Nice place.”
“It’ll do. I want to fix it up. You want a drink or something?”
“Sure.”
“Beer or wine?”
“Wine, thanks. How about some music?”
“Help yourself—stereo and albums are over there.” She pointed and turned toward the kitchen. When she came back with two glasses of wine, he was sitting on her couch, an arm draped lazily over the back of it and an ankle crossed over his knee. “Gimme Shelter” belted out of the stereo, just a tad too loud for mood music. He beckoned her to sit beside him.
“The music will mask our voices—keep the secret police out of our conversation. If we sit close, that adds to the illusion that we’re about to become an item.”
“Understood.”
He spent the next half-hour briefing her on current projects, reports that were sitting in his desk waiting for her to translate, and safety procedures.
“Thank you for the wine,” he said as he stood up. He handed her the glass. “It was good to meet you.”
“Thank you for the lift home.”
“I’ll see you Monday at the embassy.”
She escorted him to the door, said good night, and before he could say anything else, she closed it behind him.
***
Darby Kent swaggered to his car, shaking his head when the vehicle parked across the street pulled out after him. They were so very obvious. Since when had espionage gotten this sloppy? Or maybe they were sending a blatant message to State Department employees that said, “Remember, we’re always watching.”
At least Liz Hertford seemed to have potential. It would have been nice to have an officer with some experience, but her eager motivation had a certain appeal to an old, worn-out station chief like himself. Although he wasn’t a station chief now—as she’d made sure to remind him. He was just the number one case officer in Budapest. For the present.
At any rate, her language expertise would help tremendously. He chuckled to himself, pretty confident she’d blasted him in Hungarian with an insult or two. But for the life of him, he couldn’t remember any insult that used the words “lovely eyes.” So perhaps she hadn’t been completely unaffected by his charm, even if it was only an act.
Now, I’m to turn up the heat, so that when I finally bring you to him, he can complete the process of turning you. He says there is history between you. History that you are aware of. Have you been in bed with the enemy before, my friend? My esteemed colleague?
Chapter 5
US Embassy, Budapest
May 1982
“Miss Hertford?”
“Yes, Bill?” Liz had to fight to keep from rolling her eyes. Collins interrupted her a dozen times a day.
“Mr. Kent requires a minute of your time.”
“Mr. Kent…”
“He’s the former head of the glassworks company that is consulting with the Hungarian government.”
“I know who he is, Bill,” she replied, exasperated. “Mr. Kent has been in here seven times already this week. What does he want now?”
“Uh…” She could almost see the wheels turning in his head, little squirrels racing like mad around a wheel. “I’ll check,” he said quickly and disappeared.
Liz shook her head and went back to work.
Bill reappeared in the doorway. “He says he wants—” He was interrupted by Darby Kent himself striding through the door.
“He wants a financial analysis translated into English. Immediatel
y.” Darby Kent shut the door in Bill’s face with no apology, completely ignoring the frown on it. He spun on his heel and approached Liz’s desk.
“I know he’s not your favorite person,” she whispered. “He gets on my nerves too, but you don’t have to be so rude to him.”
“He expects it. So, I have a little problem on my hands.”
She put her fingers to her lips in a gesture of “shh” that made him stare at her. “Bugged, remember?” she mouthed silently.
“I know that,” he mouthed back. Then he spoke aloud. “I can read the numbers on this report just fine, but I need the information in the narrative, and it’s written in Hungarian.” He studied her for a moment then sent her a pointed look. “But I can see you’re busy. Perhaps we can review it tonight over dinner?”
“I already have dinner plans, Mr. Kent.”
He rolled his eyes and jerked his thumb in frustration toward the door. “Out!” he mouthed at her. Aloud, he went on, his stern expression in direct contrast with the suggestive tone of his voice. “Maybe you could reschedule them. And what’s with all the ‘Mr.’ business? We don’t have to be so damned formal, Miss Hertford. If we’re going to be working closely together, you should call me Darby.” His lips quirked into a sardonic one-sided smile. “I make a mean Hungarian goulash. Does seven o’clock work for you?”
“We can certainly discuss your report over lunch if you’d like.” She reached for her jacket. “Does that suit you?”
“Since I can’t wine and dine you, I suppose it will have to do. For now.” He followed her out into the hallway and down to the front entrance. After holding the door for her, he stalked out into the street.
“What are you trying to pull?” she demanded quietly as they strode down the street toward the little cafe.
“Haven’t you ever heard of ‘talking to the walls’? The most realistic cover for us is a personal relationship, i.e., an affair. How can I convince state security of that scenario if I only see you inside that bug-ridden embassy? We have to act the part.”
Liz frowned. “It doesn’t mean you have to hit on me every time you come in there.”
“It certainly does mean that,” he said stiffly. “They would never believe I’d spend so much time with you if we weren’t…you know.”
Liz narrowed her eyes, zipped her lips, and kept walking. Someday the man was going to pay for all the insults he tossed her way. If she’d learned anything in her young life, it was that karma was indeed a bitch.
“So you might as well quit playing hard to get. I need your help.”
“A translation?”
“No,” he replied, looking off into the distance. “It’s a personnel issue. One of my assets has a daughter, a young woman about your age. She’s ill. The local physician says she has pneumonia. It’s her third bout of serious illness in a year, and my asset wants her to have a medical assessment in England or the States. I’ve tried to put him off, but he says he’ll quit doling out information if we don’t comply with his request immediately. I need him. He’s my best contact inside the commerce sector of the Hungarian government, and all the intelligence worth gathering in this country is about commerce.”
“You’ll have to call headquarters for this. I can’t pull the kind of strings needed to get her out, and neither can the ambassador.”
“Obviously.” His impatient tone betrayed his frustration. “The exit papers aren’t the problem. With enough lead time, I can have them forged. I’m already working on it.”
“Then what is the problem?”
“My asset is throwing a fit because he says she needs medical care right now. Currently, she’s living in their countryside home under the care of a woman from the village.”
“Where’s the girl’s mother?”
“Dead for many years, and with her father here in Budapest, there’s no one else to care for her. He’s afraid to leave the daughter with just anyone for a variety of reasons, and I’m afraid to lose his intelligence information. The only way he’ll stay in the field is if I find a qualified person to watch over her and directly supervise her care until she’s cleared to leave.”
Liz could see exactly where this was going. “You want me to care for her? I’m not a doctor, Mr. Kent.”
“It’s only for a few weeks at the outside. And you do have some medical training; it’s in your dossier.”
“I don’t care what headquarters put in my dossier. Don’t you think the KGB and Hungarian secret police will suspect something if I disappear from my job for a few weeks?”
“That’s why I’m hitting on you, Ms. Hertford. A romantic getaway to beautiful Lake Balaton is the op’s cover.”
“That would mean…”
“I’m coming with you, yes.” He opened the door of the cafe and found a small table in the corner to discourage other patrons from joining them. “Actually, I’ll be there before you. I’ll have the daughter moved into one of our safe houses and pretend you and I are having a secret rendezvous there.”
“What logical reason would we have to leave town? Why the big secret getaway? We could ‘rendezvous’ right here in Budapest.” She shook her head. “State security won’t buy it.”
“I’ve already thought of that. We’ll put about that we have to hide in the countryside because I’m married.”
“Which begs the obvious question…”
“What?”
“Who on earth would marry you?”
He smiled. “Ha-ha. Let me clarify. Darby Kent is married.”
“This whole cover makes me look like the worst sort of tramp.”
“Necessary evil.”
“Who thinks up these stupid scenarios anyway?”
“The same bureaucrats who sent me, the heir apparent to the Soviet station chief position, to Hungary as a case officer.” He picked up the menu. “So, you better put on a good flirt for me, Liz darling, because I’m whisking you off to a charming little village near Lake Balaton day after tomorrow.” He leaned forward, a smug smile on his face. “By the way, sweetheart, Hungarian secret police just came in the door.” He stared into her eyes, mocking her even as he smiled in a way that made her insides heat up.
“You’re such an ass,” she whispered, and took a sip of her wine, putting on a fake, sultry smile of her own.
He covered her hand with his. “And yet, you’re crazy about me.”
***
That afternoon, Liz ascended the stairs to the embassy safe house. She had a call to make, and it had to be shielded from the outside world and its unfriendly ears.
Head down, she dug in her purse as she made her way along the plush carpeted hall. After retrieving her key and unlocking the door, she began to dial the combination lock, a second level of security to access the room. Suddenly, the force of someone behind the heavy panel nearly knocked her off her feet. She squeaked, and a familiar face with oversized glasses and sandy hair peeked around the door.
“Oh! Excuse me, Ms. Hertford! Excuse me! I’m so sorry.” Bill Collins looked extremely flustered.
“Bill!” She put a hand over her heart. “Geez, you startled me! What possessed you to come out that door like a house afire?”
“Oh, um…had a call to make. To headquarters.” He looked nervously up and down the hallway. “I have clearance. Certainly, yes.”
“I see.”
He stood, barricading the entry to the safe room, staring at her.
“Well, then.” Another pause. “If you’ll excuse me.”
“Yes?”
“I need to call in.”
“What?”
She gestured at the door. “I need to call in.”
“Oh!” He laughed. “Of course. I needed to call in myself.” He stepped around and held the door for her. “Forgive me.”
“You know, you really shouldn’t just let me in the safe room. For all you know, I could be one of those dreaded double agents.”
“Oh, not you, Ms. Hertford.” He cocked his head to the side and looked at her, puzzled.
“No, not me. Still.”
“Follow protocol. Yes, that’s good advice. Thank you.”
She sighed and walked around him into the safe room. His earnest face was the last thing she saw as the door shut behind her.
Elizabeth picked up the phone and dialed. He answered on the second ring. “Wickham.”
“Calling in.”
“Hey, gorgeous.” George Wickham’s voice warmed as he recognized her.
“New development.”
“Really?”
“Single Man is moving personnel to the other side.”
“Asset?”
“No—family.”
“A whole family?”
“No, just one person.”
“Through Czechoslovakia or Austria?”
“Not sure yet. She’s not well enough to travel, so it might be a few weeks. I’m to help him.”
“You’ll be away from the embassy?”
“Yes. I’ll be out of touch. There’s no secure way to contact you from Lake Balaton, I’m assuming.”
“Hmm. Not sure. I’ll look and try to get you a message.”
“Okay.”
“In the meantime, stay vigilant. It worries me that he’s spiriting you off by yourself somewhere unprotected.”
“I won’t be alone. We’re staying at the ambassador’s house, and his wife will be there.”
“That’s for the best. We’ll feel more comfortable if you aren’t completely on your own with him, even if the other companion is the ambassador’s ditzy wife.”
“She should keep Single Man occupied at any rate. I’m supposed to be the love interest, but it looks like I’ll have to wait in line. As if I’d ever consider such a thing.”
Wickham laughed. “You’ve got him pegged, rookie.”
Undeceived Page 4