Luftwaffe officer, Harro Schulze-Boysen had been a Soviet NKVD agent since 1935. In fact, it was he who had approached them through a contact to offer his services. No one within the Nazi echelon had any idea of his real political convictions. Known by the codename ‘Corporal,’ he became a highly-placed asset for Soviet Intelligence within the Goring Air Ministry. A gregarious personality, he easily befriended Hermann Goring, who was similar in nature. Soon after their initial meeting a close relationship began to develop. So much so that in 1936 Goring gave away the bride, Libertas Haas-Heye, at his wedding.
Well placed in Goring’s inner circle, Harro forged several contacts within army staff communications, among Abwehr officers, and with Hans Henniger, a government inspector of Luftwaffe equipment.
At about the same time Harro was recruited, Arvid Harnack, a senior civil servant in the economics ministry, was also recruited. He was given the code name ‘Corsican.’
The information flowing out of Berlin from Schulze-Boysen was at first slow and sporadic. Always suspicious, Lavrenti Beria, Stalin’s Head of the NKVD, scrupulously examined every detail of information sent by Harro for its authenticity.
Then, in the summer of 1938, Beria wrote a report for Hozyain, Stalin, on the extent and health of the forest of Soviet espionage networks in Germany. In that report, he particularly praised the Rote Kapelle and Schulze-Boysen/Harnack groups for their reliability, integrity and excellence in intelligence gathering and reporting. “The Red Orchestra,” he concluded, “is securely in place in Berlin.”
Attached to his report was a Department E typescript from the Geheime Staatspolizei, 8 Prinz Albrecht Street, Berlin. The document focused on security and counterintelligence in the Reich. In this three-page addendum, Beria highlighted, “…’limping lady’ actively engaged…subversion…resistance networks in Germany.” He also referenced, “…British Intelligence…thought to be American…”
Pavel Sudoplatov knew about Beria’s report through his good friend Richard Sorge who had just recently transferred from Berlin to Tokyo. He also knew that Captain Hall was likely the ‘limping lady’ mentioned in the Gestapo typescript.
Pavel lit up a cigarette and offered one to Anatoli, who took it. From their vantage point they had a clear view of Ringwood Pub. Their vehicle was situated far enough back so as not to arouse any obvious suspicion by either Captain Hall or Inspector Collier.
Two evenings ago, during dinner, Gunther Stein, a journalist, had presented him with a package from their mutual friend Sorge. Wrapped like a present, inside the ‘gift’ was a tie. Sewn into the tie, now worn by Pavel, was a coded message from Sorge to be delivered to Beria in Moscow. Gunter did not know the content of the coded message.
Over several drinks of Vodka, Gunter described a meeting he had with Harro Schulze-Boysen and his wife, Libertas, during a short stay in Berlin the previous week. According to them, the German foreign minister, Joachim von Ribbentrop, would sign a German-Soviet Non-Aggression Pact in August with the Soviet foreign minister Vyacheslav Molotov. Beyond that, he knew nothing further about the agreement.
Pavel cringed. Nevertheless, he thought Hozyain had made a wise decision. Since the purging of top military leadership, the Russian military was in disarray. Latest classified projections estimated Russia’s readiness for war with Germany to be sometime in either 1943 or 1944. This Pact would buy valuable time.
Two additional pieces of information shared by Gunter, troubled Pavel the most. The Japanese ambassador to Germany, Hiroshi Oshima, informed Hitler of Japan’s plan to test Soviet military strength on the Manchurian-Mongolian frontier. Confident of quick success, Hitler readily gave Oshima his blessing. It was agreed, though, that the attack would occur ahead of Ribbentrop’s visit to Moscow.
Pavel inhaled the cigarette smoke and purged it through his nostrils, his hand gently stroking his tie, while he reviewed the conversation. His brother was stationed in the Manchurian-Mongolian frontier under the leadership of Georgy Zhukov. And he feared for his well-being.
Pavel had already concluded that that was most likely the coded message hidden in his tie.
Now it makes sense, he mused. That’s why Anatoli is temporally taking over the operation here.
When Pavel had received the plane and train tickets, he felt no small degree of trepidation over his sudden recall to Moscow.
Before Gunter and he had departed that evening, Gunter asked him if he had ever heard of Operation Gleiwitz. To Pavel, Gleiwitz was nothing more than a location in upper Silesia, so he shrugged and told him he hadn’t.
“Well, when you do hear,” Gunter called back with slurred speech as he wobbled away, “I’ve been told it’s a false flag.”
Jarring him from his train of thought, Anatoli pointed in the direction of Ringwood Pub. Captain Hall, Inspector Collier and Sergeant Snowden had exited the tavern and were standing on the sidewalk engaged in a lively conversation.
Rolling down his window, Pavel flicked out his half-finished butt and encouraged Anatoli to do the same.
When Collier’s vehicle slowly left the curve-side and travelled down the street, they followed at an unobtrusive distance.
Pavel hoped that before boarding the plane to France that evening, he would have Otto’s identity in hand.
Who knows, he thought, perhaps Hozyain might decorate me, even give me a dacha for smashing this Nazi ring.
“What’s so funny?” Anatoli asked.
Pavel stared at Anatoli sternly. “Keep your eyes focused ahead and don’t lose them.”
Further back and out of sight, Werner Gruener followed them. His mission was to protect Otto’s identity at all cost.
END OF PART ONE: RIDING THE BACK OF THE HUNGRY OLD LION