They're walking explosives." "What are you trying to say?" "I'm not sure, Mr. Winthrop. I want to know more about him. Who is he?
What is he? Where did he come from?" "The child being the father of the man?" "Something like that. I've read his file-a number of times, in fact-but I've yet to speak to anyone who really knows him." "I'm not sure you'll find such a person. Brandon.
The elder statesman paused briefly and smiled. "Incidentally, he's called Bray, for reasons I've never understood. It's the last thing he does.
Bray, I mean." "That's one of the things I've learned," interrupted the director, returning Winthrop's smile as he sat down in a leather armchair. "When he was a child he bad a younger sister who couldn't say Brandon; she called him Bray.
name just stuck with him." "That must have been added to his file after I left. Indeed, I imagine a great deal has been added to that file. But as for his friends, or lack of them. He's simply a pdvate person, quite a bit more so since his wife died." Congdon spoke quietly. "She was killed, wasn't sheT' "Yes.,, "In fact, she was killed in East Berlin ten years ago next month. Isn't that right7" "Yes.
"And ten years ago next month you resigned the directorship of Consular Operations. The highly specialized unit you built." Winthrop turned, his eyes leveled at the new director. "What I conceived and what finally emerged were two quite different entities. Consular Operations was designed as a humanitarian instrument, to facilitate the defection of thousands from a political system they found intolerable. As time went on-and circumstances seemed to warrant -the objectives were narrowed. The thousands became hundreds-and as other voices were heard, the hundreds were reduced to dozens. We were no longer interested in the scores of men and women who daily appealed to us, but only in those select few whose talents and information were considered far more important than those of ordinary people. The unit concentrated on a handful of scientists and soldiers and intelligence specialists. As it does today. That's not what we began with." "But as you pointed out, sir," said Congdon, "the circumstances warranted the change." Winthrop nodded. "Don't mistake me, I'm not naive. I dealt with the Russians at Yalta, Potsdam, Casablanca. I witnessed their brutality in Hungary in '56, and I saw the horrors of Czechoslovakia and Greece. I think I know what the Soviets are capable of as well as any strategist in covert services. And for years I permitted those more aggressive voices to speak with authority. I understood the necessity. Did you think I didn't?" "Of course not. I simply meant. Congdon hesitated.
"You simply made a connection between the murder of Scofield's wife and my resignation," said the statesman kindly.
"Yes, sir, I did. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. It's just that the circumstances...." "'Warranted a change,"' completed Winthrop. 'That's what happened, you know. I recruited Scofield; I'm sure that's in his file. I suspect that's why you're here tonight." "Then the connection?..." Congdon's words trailed oM "Accurate. I felt responsible." "But surely there were other incidents, other men.. and women." "Not the same, Mr. Congdon. Do you know why Scofield's wife was selected to be the target that afternoon in East Berlin?" "I assume it was a trap meant for Scofield himself. Only she showed up and he didn't. It happens." "A trap meant for Scofield? In East Berlin?" "He had contacts in the Soviet sector. He made frequent penetrations, set up his own cells. I imagine they wanted to catch him with his contact sheets. Her body was searched, her purse taken.
It's not unusual." "Your assumption being that he'd use his wife in the operation?" asked Winthrop.
Congdon nodded. "Again, not unusual, sir." "Not unusual? I'm afraid in Scofield's case it was impossible. She was part of his cover at the embassy, but never remotely connected to his covert activities. No, Mr. Congdon, you're wrong. The Russians knew they could never spring a trap on Bray Scofield in East Berlin. He was too good, too efficient... too elusive. So they tricked his wife into crossing the checkpoint and killed her for another purpose." "I beg your pardon?" "An enraged man is a careless man. That's what the Soviets wanted to accomplish. But they, as you, misunderstood their subject. With his rage came a new determination to sting the enemy in every way he could. If he was brutally professional before his