Chapter 36: My Frenemy

My morning at the White House consisted of meetings about the specific duties assigned to us and the Soviet counterparts that we were responsible for meeting and entertaining. It reminded me of the buddy system in place at summer camps nationwide. You had to have a ‘buddy’ nearby if you wanted to be in the pool. His responsibility was to know where you were at all times. It was a misfortune for any scout who wasn’t near their buddy; out of the pool you went. The other State Department bureaucrats, including myself, didn’t know who our Soviet ‘buddy’ would be, since our counterparts were unknown.

We were scheduled to have lunch at the White House, and we were to meet the Soviet plane carrying the Soviet Premier and our counterparts after that. The Soviet jet was set to land at Andrews Air Force Base at 2 PM local time. The plane arrived 30 minutes late, and the ceremony began after another fifteen minutes spent positioning the steps for the Soviet Premier. While being less than an hour late was acceptable behavior according to my DC friends; it was insulting to my Midwest values. I kept my mouth shut and stayed close to the airplane hangar that blocked the cold December winds coming off the Chesapeake Bay, about twenty miles to the east of us. It’s true that the bay wasn’t very close, but those winds off it were still brutal.

The President greeted the Soviet Premier at the base of the stairs and led him past a military honor guard to the airplane hangar, which served as an impromptu shelter from the wind. The President and the Premier each read a short statement for the press, then hustled over to the presidential limousine for the ride to the White House, where the Soviet Premier and his wife would be staying as the President’s guests. The rest of the Soviet entourage was staying at the Russian Embassy. The formal introductions were made, and the Americans and their Soviet counterparts gathered in the hangar to escape the weather. There was no introduction given for me, so I assumed that my Russian counterpart had not been named yet. I figured that I would be able to escape early and get back to the office, where I would stay until it was time to rush home and get ready for tonight’s fancy doings at the White House.

No such luck; I saw an older man in a uniform that would have made a New York City luxury hotel doorman jealous instead. A State Department weenie, eager to get out of the cold as much as I was, led him to me. He introduced me to Major General Dmitri Volkov of the Soviet GRU, the much-feared Soviet Intelligence Service. I noticed the General’s bushy eyebrows almost reach his hairline upon hearing my name when the State Department flunky made the introduction. I thought that it was an odd reaction to meeting someone for the first time.

I started the introductions early, hoping that the General understood at least some English, since I had no mastery of the Russian language.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, General,” I said as warmly as I could. “You are the first General I have been introduced to, Soviet or American.”

“And you Dr. Mercer, you are well known in certain circles in the Soviet Union. It is a pleasure to meet you. You are much admired,” the General said.

I took his comment as a compliment to my mathematical work and said, “Thank you, General. Is my mathematical algorithm well known in Soviet academic circles?”

The General looked at me in confusion and said, “You are a legend for the ruthlessness you show in eliminating your enemies. It was brilliant how you took out that foolish U.S. Senator who now sits rotting in an American prison. The GRU is impressed with how you handled that meddlesome British Intelligence Agent without leaving a trail leading back to you.”

I was aghast at the General’s statement and quickly responded, “You have that all wrong, General. I had nothing to do with the Senator’s downfall. He brought that upon himself; his greed and weakness for beautiful young women were what ended his career. As for the British Agent, I have no idea who he was. I never met the man.”

The General kept smiling and shaking his head. “Who taught you your craft?” he asked. “It wasn’t the CIA; their skills are nowhere near as ruthless as yours. It couldn’t have been the British or the French; they are not as cold-blooded as you are. I know, it was the Israelis. They are the only ones who can be as ruthless as you.”

I stood there in shock, listening to the Soviet General sing my praises for my supposed spy skills. I really hated to disappoint him and tell him that he was full of it.

“You are embarrassing me, General; please stop. I don’t deserve your praise,” I said. I hoped that it sounded convincing. “I have never been trained by the Israelis; in fact, the only contact I’ve ever had was with a former Israeli Army dog handler who sold me a pair of trained Dobermans for my home’s security.”

The General looked at me and smiled. “Guard dogs are sheepdogs, like you. They are sheep,” he said, pointing to the people around us.

“You protect them from wolves,” he added.

I noticed that he didn’t point at anyone when he said that.

He then concluded, “You are the sheepdog that protects the sheep from the wolves. I see why your President thinks so highly of you.”

“I want to be your friend even though we are on opposite sides, Dr. Mercer. I respect you and fear you. You make a good adversary,” the General said.

“Maybe someday you can come to my house and share a meal with my family, General. I hope you will find out that I’m not the monster that you make me out to be,” I honestly said.

“It is too dangerous for citizens of the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics to go to your home, Dr. Mercer,” the General candidly said. “My side lost a high-ranking Spetsnaz Officer and an Ambassador. We thought that you had convinced them to defect at first, but I’m not so sure now.”

“I can tell you in all honesty that I didn’t convince anyone to defect, General,” I said, somewhat agitated.

“I’m sure that you didn’t, Dr. Mercer; but I’m positive that you know what happened to them. I just hope that none of them suffered. By the way, leaving the Ambassador’s car in a foreign country over a thousand kilometers away was sheer brilliance. You’ll have to tell me how you did it someday. That alone kept our investigators chasing their own tails for months. I salute you for your ingenuity,” the General said.

The Russians left on hired buses, which were there to take them to their embassy. The General departed after shaking my hand.

I stood there for a moment, wondering where this was going to lead. No one back at my office was going to believe the conversation I’d just had with the General. I could hardly believe it myself—and I was the one standing there talking to the man.

I glanced at my watch. It was just after four PM, so I had time to stop by the office after leaving the White House and see what Randy had found. Today was quickly becoming one of the strangest days I’d experienced in Washington. It was a thirty-minute drive back to the White House, where I was supposed to get my ride to the office. I realized that most of my team would already be gone by the time I checked my watch again, so I had the driver take me straight home instead.

It was just before 5:30 PM when I arrived home. I thanked the driver, got out, and went inside. I didn’t even need to call Randy, he was already there with Olive, who was helping Karen get ready. I found him in the living room, playing with the twins on the floor, making them giggle with his funny faces and tickles.

He stood hen he saw me and motioned for us to go into my study. I followed him in and closed the door behind us.

Randy explained that he was able to trace the leak to the FBI office responsible for background checks after a couple of phone calls. He then tracked down the clerk and confronted her. It turned out that an employee at the State Department had promised her a better-paying position in exchange for passing along certain information.

The clerk was terminated for cause, and the State Department employee was reported to his superiors. I felt sorry that the clerk had lost her job, but she should have known better. She would hopefully learn from her transgression.

I told Randy that I had to go get ready and would be back down shortly. I went up to our room to grab my tuxedo and accessories. I wanted to shower and shave before dressing, so I headed over to the guest room bathroom, took a quick shower, and shaved with a new blade for a closer shave. I was ready to go thirty minutes later, and went back downstairs to wait with Randy. I kept looking at my watch and reminding the women that our ride would be here in 30 minutes, hoping that it would speed the process up.

Karen came down the stairs, followed by her hangers-on, a few minutes before it was time to leave. Everyone thought that she looked beautiful, and I had to agree. I was so lucky that she had consented to marry me after my folly in the park. It probably wasn’t the memory that she wanted, but she got what she wanted. So did I, it just took me longer. I heard the limousine pull up and went to check. It was Robert, in his full uniform, including that silly hat that he insisted on wearing. I went to get Karen and escorted her to the limousine. Robert assisted her while I went around to the other side to join my wife in back. What should have been a twenty-minute drive turned into a forty-minute drive, as the traffic was heavy for a Monday evening., We joined the line of Washington, DC, limousines dropping off their passengers when we finally arrived at the White House.

A White House staff member opened the door for us when we pulled up in front of the entrance. Karen and I exited the limousine and lined up in the queue to pass through the Secret Service security checkpoint. Several of the Secret Service Agents recognized me and nodded toward me in greeting. They may have known me, but we still had to go through the security checkpoint. There had been one unsuccessful attempt on the President, so there was no need to slack off now. Karen went through the security line ahead of me, turning heads as she passed. I saw one man get poked in the ribs by his wife when he was caught staring. I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.

We got in the formal reception line for an introduction to the Soviet contingent. We received very formal and stiff responses from the Soviet treaty-signers until we came to General Volkov. He warmly greeted me in stark contrast to the cold demeanor we had received from the other Soviet representatives.

“General Volkov, I would like to introduce you to my wife, Karen,” I said, smiling.

The General appreciatively looked at Karen and responded, “Your wife is lovely, by far the most beautiful woman in the room, Dr. Mercer.”

“Thank you, General Volkov. A woman likes to hear that she is appreciated by others,” Karen said, flattered. “My husband could take lessons from you on complimenting a spouse. Did your wife choose to stay back in Russia?”

“My Olga unfortunately left this world several years ago due to that dreaded disease, breast cancer. I miss her terribly,” the General lamented.

We both expressed our sympathies to the General and didn’t want to insult him with our rude remarks, as we were unaware.

I noticed that we were holding up the reception line and told the General that we would speak further later. We continued down the line until we reached the President and the First Lady, who were standing next to the Soviet Premier and his wife. The President smiled at us and reached out to shake both my hand and Karen’s. The First Lady greeted Karen with that pseudo-hug women often use in social situations. He then turned to introduce us to the Soviet Premier and his wife. I saw the Premier’s surprised reaction when the President introduced me and the Premier’s translator translated it. He said something in Russian, and the translator repeated it in English. The Premier said that he was glad to have met me and hoped that my wife and I would visit Moscow someday, and he would be glad to show us his beautiful city in the near future. There was something in the Premier’s response that piqued my curiosity. I hoped that I could get the answer from the General. I was sure that our friends in Langley would fill me in, if not.

We followed the directions of a White House staffer to our seats after going down the reception line. Karen mentioned the Premier’s reaction to my name once we had sat down. She had noticed it too. I thought that it was an excellent decision to have all the security in place at our house. I was planning to increase my security at work, both coming and going. There would be no more walks to the park without a protection detail. Having a wife and two young children was reason enough in my book.”

The last of the Americans must have gone through the line, as our dinner companions soon joined us for the evening. The General sat across from us, along with several other Soviet treaty negotiators. I noticed that the General was subdued around the other Russians. Our dinner conversation with the General was limited to the food served, the weather in Washington compared to Moscow, and how beautiful both cities were. Looking over at Karen, I could tell that she was bored, and I felt the same way. The President and the Premier both made brief remarks about how this was a monumental achievement for both countries after the tables were cleared. It would serve as the framework for future peaceful negotiations.

Both men gave their remarks, then the socializing began. I wish I could say that the vodka flowed like the Potomac, but the beverages served were much less potent. The options for the night included watered-down champagne drinks and wine spritzers. They served finger foods to ensure that no one became roaring drunk and started divulging state secrets.

The General came over and we discussed how Russia and the United States had similar areas in regards to climate. I asked the General about the Premier’s response to learning my name. The General replied to my question by reminding me of my reputation. Yes, it went to all levels of the Soviet government. the General relayed to her the supposed deeds that I had done when Karen asked what reputation I supposedly had. Karen focused on me and snorted while trying to hold in a case of the giggles. The General looked confused at Karen’s reaction to what he had told her.

Karen said “The only person in our household that you have to fear is me, General. My husband is a pussycat, but James becomes as ruthless as you described if you threaten our children and me. I come by my nickname as the ‘Viking Princess’, honestly.”

The General realized what the truth was. He smiled, and the smile turned into a laugh, which quickly became a full guffaw. I thought the man was having a seizure for a moment. He quickly calmed down and told us that his intelligence sources reported the ‘Viking Princess’ was a code name for an Arctic missile launch location. We all had a huge laugh at that.

Karen then told him that the Ambassador and his wife, along with the Spetsnaz intelligence officer and his wife, were alive as far as she knew. She mentioned that she and the officer’s wife had become close friends and had planned several Washington, DC, shopping trips before they disappeared. As for the Ambassador, Karen suggested they start looking at Russian immigrant settlements in Canada, where she believed their car had been found and where they likely disappeared.

The General nodded in agreement. What Karen had said made a lot more sense than the idea that I had killed all those Soviet diplomats. After all, what would I have hoped to accomplish by killing a couple of non-threatening diplomats and their spouses? I think that he and his intelligence unit would be trimming some dead wood when he got back to Moscow.

The evening was winding down, and it was time for the General to leave to return to the embassy and for us to head home. We had a treaty signing that we were required to attend tomorrow. I certainly didn’t want to be late for that. We bid the General good evening and started for the exit. A Russian aide stopped us and handed me a folded message as we were leaving. I thanked him and continued on so that we could wait for Robert to pick us up.

Robert showed up a few minutes later. We got into the limousine and headed for home. I glanced over at Karen and realized how incomplete my life would have been without her. Everything I was I owed to her. I intended to tell her so when we got home. The message in my inside jacket pocket made me curious as hell, however. I decided to wait until we got home before reading it.

The only ones there to greet us when we got home were Grandma Jorgenson and the ‘Two Mountains’. They were watching a late-night TV show with Don Rickles doing his usual insult act and getting plenty of laughs from the audience. We said goodnight to everyone and went upstairs. We looked in on the twins before heading into our bedroom to get ready for bed. I had to be up early, as tomorrow was a historic event that I needed to attend.

I told Karen how much I appreciated her and how incomplete my life would have been without her as we were getting ready for bed. That brought tears to her eyes and earned me a hug.

I then remembered the folded note the Soviet aide had handed me on our way out tonight. I opened it, and there was a time and a phone number in a distinctly European style of handwriting. It was a Washington-area phone exchange, which really piqued my interest. I’d pass the number on to Randy in the morning, and have him track it down. I was dying to know who it was.

I had a difficult time falling asleep. So many things were playing in my head: my meeting the head of one of the Soviet Intelligence Services, my ‘reputation’, the Soviet Premier’s response to my name, and my Viking Princess showing me her worth at the state dinner tonight. I lay there, with my head spinning. Today had been a crazy day, and tomorrow was shaping up to be just as crazy. It took a while, but I finally was able to fall asleep. I wasn’t sure how well I had slept as I woke up when my alarm went off. It took sheer willpower to get out of bed on my part.

It took a lot of drive to get dressed, as I didn’t have to be at the White House until 1 PM. I wasn’t the first one in the office that morning. Everyone asked how my day yesterday went. I asked everyone to be in the conference room instead of repeatedly telling the story, and I would tell them all at the same time. They were impressed with my meeting the head of the Soviet Intelligence Group and being on friendly terms with him. I told them about my reputation with the Soviets. I received a few chuckles from several team members. It didn’t hurt my ego that much. I asked everyone to get back to work when story time was over, because this was a busy week for us.

I pulled Randy aside as everyone was leaving, and asked if he would check out the number on the note handed to me last night. It didn’t take Randy long to tell me the number was from the Maryland suburb of Gaithersburg, Maryland. It was a community roughly twenty miles north of Washington.

I called the number from the public phone in the lobby of the State Department Building promptly at 11 AM, as the note indicated. A woman who spoke English with an extremely thick accent picked up the phone on the first ring. I identified myself and was asked to wait; a man also with a thickly accented voice then took my call. The man didn’t identify himself, but told me to watch my back as we had a mole in our midst. He responded, “The General sends his compliments and tells the Viking Princess that she made an older man happy once again” when I asked why I should believe him. The person on the other end hung up.

I immediately went to my office and requested the security team meet me in the conference room. There wasn’t a lot of time, so I was quick and to the point. I explained that I had gotten information from my Russian contact there was a mole somewhere and I wanted them to find the mole. Randy and the rest of my people were alarmed that one of us was the mole at first. I quickly ruled out that possibility as we had not been together long enough for the Russians to make contact and turn someone. I reasoned that it had to be someone in the President’s inner circle of advisors and Cabinet members. That is where I suggested they start and not be discrete. It was getting close to the time when I had to leave for the White House, and I asked them to get busy and to keep me advised on what they uncovered.

I walked to the exit where I was to meet Robert. Our constant mixing things up kept the other side guessing. It was similar to the kid’s game, Whack a Mole, except that this mole was avoiding being whacked.

I arrived in plenty of time for the signing ceremony in the White House’s East Room. It was the only room big enough to handle the overflow crowd that were there to witness the historical treaty signing. I was standing in the background, almost at the opposite end away from the actual signing ceremony. I observed the President and the Soviet Premier sign a copy of the document, and then switch and sign the second one. It was during the switching ceremony that I felt someone tap me on the shoulder. I turned to face a Secret Service Agent motioning for me to follow him. Wondering what was going on, I followed him out of the East Room and down the corridor. The Agent told me that my security team was here once out of earshot of others. They had located the mole. I thanked the Agent and made my way down the steps to the visitors’ waiting room. I saw Randy, Scotty, and both of the ‘Twin Mountains’ there, all looking somber. I could tell from the look on their faces that someone was getting an ass-whipping administered by the ‘Twin Mountains’.

I walked into the room and waited for them to tell me why they were all there and not out looking as I requested. Randy, with some anger in his voice, finally told me that they knew who the mole was. I started to compliment them when Randy interrupted me and said that the information didn’t come from any of their work. It came from none other than my wife, Karen, who had called the information to them. General Volkov, smitten by my wife, had revealed the name of the mole to her. The name of the mole was a complete surprise and a terrible blow to our country’s security. I’d wait for the signing ceremony to end and then request a private, short meeting with the President, Vice President, and the President’s Chief of Staff. The mole was an Assistant in the Chief of Staff’s Office. What had gotten my security team upset was that this Assistant was a retired military officer. The President himself had nominated him. This would ruin what had otherwise been a perfect day to become part of this President’s legacy, and then to have his day ruined by the announcement that there was a traitor among us. My security team, being all ex-military, felt betrayed.

Things were winding down by 3 PM, and the invited guests were heading back to their offices or their embassy. I waited until the Chief of Staff was free then break the news to him. I told him that my security team had discovered a mole at the highest level, and that it threatened our national security. The Chief of Staff blanched and grabbed my arm and hustled me off to an unused office at the end of the hall. He demanded to know who the mole was and who my source was. I told him what my guys discovered, and I thought he would have a stroke when he found out. I suggested that we have an emergency meeting with the President, the Vice President, himself as the Chief of Staff, and me in attendance. There should be no one else in the room, especially none of his Assistants.

The President, the Vice President, the Chief of Staff, and I gathered in the situation room with the door guarded by a Marine Security Guard. The President and the Vice President had no idea about what I knew. I felt terrible for ruining this special day for the President, who was the man who had confidence in my abilities and had pushed me to do my best, and I now had to share bad news. The Chief of Staff asked me to inform the others what I had discovered about the person betraying his country. Two men aged almost ten years in front of me when I revealed what I knew. I watched the President’s facial expression turn from shock, to anger, to sadness. The President sadly asked me to find the Assistant Chief of Staff and ask him to join us.

I left the situation room, now accompanied by several Secret Service Agents, on the lookout for the mole. We found the Assistant Chief of Staff talking to several White House aides outside the East Room. I waited until he was finished talking to the White House staffers before I told him that he was to go to the situation room. I simply said I was just the errand boy when he asked what this was in reference to. He would have to ask the President about that. The Assistant COS to be arrogant appeared to me, as he had this smug look on his face. He commented that the ‘old geezer’ couldn’t do anything without his assistance. I couldn’t wait to see how this played out in a few minutes. I was discussing with one Secret Service Agent, who had also worked on my personal protection detail, about meeting the General, who was the head of one of the Soviet Intelligence Services, as we were retracing our steps back to the situation room. I was telling him about how I was impressed by the General and how personable he was. When the assistant to the COS added that the General was like the rest of the Soviet bureaucrats, mindless drones, who did the Communist Party’s bidding. I just looked over at the Secret Service Agent who just rolled his eyes.

We returned to the situation room, and I allowed the Assistant COS to enter before I did. What awaited him, I didn’t think he was expecting, nor did I. Besides the President, the Vice President, and the Chief of Staff, sat a fourth person who I immediately recognized as being from the FBI Counterintelligence Group. I had heard him speak at a seminar at the University of Chicago about the dangers and concerns of foreign exchange students working in university research labs a couple of years ago. I will have to admit that the Assistant Chief of Staff played it cool. He acted as if being called into the situation room like this was routine. I stood directly behind him and could see that his reaction was all but normal. The Assistant COS had beads of sweat appear on the back of his neck, just above his collar. I imagine that you would have seen sweat stains under his arms and along his spine if his suit jacket was off. The jig was up, and he knew it; the only thing left was to accept his fate.

The President looked glum and didn’t say anything while the man stood there in front of the assembled leadership. The only one to speak was the President’s Chief of Staff, who expressed everyone’s disappointment. The COS informed him that he would be put in cuffs, led past his fellow staff members, and led away in disgrace,. They would learn about his criminal act. He was put in handcuffs with his arms behind his back, and led away by two FBI Agents who appeared out of nowhere. I’m usually observant, but I didn’t see where these two came from. The door to the situation room closed after they left, and I stood there wondering what would happen next.

“Have a seat, James,” the COS said. “Now would you like to explain how you knew one of mine was dirty? He has passed every security check you can imagine and yet you were able to ID him in a matter of hours.”

“Easy,” I said, “I read his mind.”

That comment got me all sorts of looks, from complete shock, to some thinking that I was feeding them a lot of bull, which I was. I started laughing, and the only ones who appreciated my joking were the President and the COS. I think the Vice President completely fell for it at first, then realized that I was simply clowning around.

I turned serious and said, “General Volkov indirectly notified me that we had a mole. This information was passed to me at the White House dinner yesterday. I was instructed to call one of his Agents here in the US and was informed that we had a mole in our midst, but not who. General Volkov has taken a liking to my wife and myself for some reason. He called my wife and informed her who it was. Karen called the office during the signing ceremony and told the head of my security team who the mole was. He then came here to pass the information along. The phone was too risky, so he came in person and informed me of the mole’s identity. That was when I requested this meeting with you attending to oust him. The President nodded his head in agreement to my reasoning.

The COS said, “We need to get back to our offices and do damage control now that we are aware of the mole and the level of damage he must have done. There is no way to determine how much information he was able to pass along to the Soviets.

I said, “Or, if he worked alone. The Soviets could have recruited other support staff members to gather intelligence and pass it along to your former Assistant. I would suggest putting out some bizarre intelligence. and see if the Soviets react. You will know he wasn’t working alone if they do. I would suggest changing the story just enough so that we could tell where the leak is coming from by what version of the story the Soviets distribute.”