IWCF 008 - American Kremlin

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I was a communist for the FBI.

Starring Dana Andrews in an exciting tale

of danger and espionage.

I was a communist for the FBI.

From the actual records and authentic experiences

of Math Svetic, come many of the incidents

in this unusual story.

Here is our star, Dana Andrews, as Math Svetic.

Who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist

for the FBI?

In all these fantastic years, fear was my worst enemy.

The average man in the normal course of events

comes face to face with fear only a few times in his life.

But I faced the terror of fear almost constantly

for nine years as a communist for the FBI.

In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews

as Math Svetic, undercover man.

Now here is Dana Andrews as Math Svetic, undercover man.

This story from the confidential file is marked

the American Cremlin.

An early spring afternoon in a large Midwestern city.

The sun has found its way through the haze

that shrouds the downtown business section

and is drying the remnants of a morning shower.

I decide to walk from my rooming house

to the meeting at party headquarters.

An unobtrusive address on an undistinguished side street.

Hey, mister?

No, thanks, cabbie, I'll walk.

I think you better ride, mister.

3, 4, 7.

7 is a lucky number.

You're clear?

No one following?

Why the emergency contact?

Two tough agents, the MBT have been smuggled into the country.

Their job is to close any loopholes in party machinery.

Who are they?

You know who they are, what they look like.

But so far, they've been efficient, too efficient.

Two of our new York contacts disappeared.

As Chancellor's agents are here right now,

you see them, we want them.

Don't waste any time calling your contact.

Anything report?

No.

Okay, you can let me out.

Two tough agents of the MBT here to check on their own party members.

They're never sure of themselves or the people who work for them and with them.

For how can you really trust a man who's a traitor to his own country?

It's still rather early for my meeting,

but there before me is the party headquarters.

Upwardly, it resembles some of the other faded and fallorn buildings on the street,

but there are the resemblance ends.

For this building is the nerve center of the entire communist network in this section of the country.

This is the American Kremlin.

Come and bar stuff, come and bar stuff.

The door to bar stuff's office is open.

I walk in.

Bar stuff?

Not here.

Beyond this office, the printing presses.

I start to call bar stuff's name,

but the words choke at my throat.

There, above me, dangling like a limp cord of an overhead light,

hanging and swaying from a pipe which runs across the ceiling,

the body of common bar stuff.

I look around for the box or platform which you use to raise himself off the ground,

but there is none.

The floor beneath his swaying feet is clear.

This isn't suicide.

This is murder.

Hello?

Yes?

Is it done?

Yes.

I stagger wildly out of the building,

casping for air, sure I'm scared.

I didn't recognize that voice on the other end of the phone.

Let's hope I wasn't recognized either.

Why did I answer it?

Call it an automatic reaction.

A phone rings, you answer it.

Just like you see a body swinging from a pipe and you know it's murder.

Except in this case, there's a frame attached to it,

and I could be the picture inside.

I can't understand why the building is empty.

The presser should be rolling a symphony of inky lies,

and some of my beloved comrades should be at the door.

Of course.

This is Sunday,

and even a communist sometimes takes advantage of a decadent bourgeois custom,

like not working.

I walk around the block, and then I spot Comrade Cobra,

a local party leader,

entering the building I just left.

The American Cremlin.

I wait about two minutes,

and then I walk back in.

Who is there?

It's me, Comrade Svetic.

Quickly lock the door and come back here.

I had seen only Comrade Cobra enter the building yet.

Comrade Svetic, this is Colonel Blansky, who is here from Moscow.

It is my privilege.

I'll be needed after the press room Comrade Cobra,

so that Comrade Svetic may also see.

Pasta.

Who did...

Either my eyes are playing tricks on me,

or else I didn't get a good look the first time.

For there, under the swaying feet of Comrade Barstoff, is a box.

Yes, Comrade Svetic.

Master of Realize that any weakness in our party's structure

is dangerous to the entire course.

You may close the door, Comrade Cobra.

Comrade Svetic, Colonel Blansky has asked me to recommend the man

to take Barstoff's place.

I have recommended you.

I'm here to serve.

When the revolution comes,

task trains will lie in the instrument of the workers.

They trade unions.

Your first assignment, Comrade Svetic,

is the shipbuilders union in the Brooklyn area.

It's a train which leaves in exactly 40 minutes.

It will be on it.

Your contact is the waitress in the King Street diner,

for name, Millicent Johnson.

Comrade Cobra here will give you specific instructions.

About Barstoff.

You have seen nothing?

You know nothing.

Where for me, Comrade Svetic?

I will accompany you to the station.

Oh, don't bother, Comrade Cobra.

No bother, Comrade Svetic.

Who knows when I miss you next?

He helps me pack.

He helps me find a cab.

He's too much of a help.

He's right with me as we enter the railroad station.

I buy a ticket.

Look at the clock.

There's less than 10 minutes to train time.

10 minutes in which I should get to a phone and tell the FBI

that one of the two MVD agents is right here.

But how to do it without arousing suspicion

on the part of Comrade Cobra,

who is being most solicitous and most comrade.

Comrade Cobra, will you watch my bag while I wash my hands?

Sure, go ahead.

Hello.

3 and 4 are 7.

Comrade Svetic, who are you calling?

I was just checking the time with Meridian.

The last thing I see is the train picks up momentum

and speeds out of the station as Comrade Cobra

is standing on the platform and smiling goodbye.

I've been cornered, boxed and shipped.

Eight hours before the train arrives in New York.

Eight hours before I can get to a phone.

Contact the FBI and tell them the MVD agents have arrived.

Eight hours in which Colonel Polansky and the Hattit woman

on the phone could be in Dallas, Chicago, Los Angeles.

You pick this spot.

Penn Station, a canyon of noise and activity.

I disregard the poorer with the outstretched hand

waiting to take my bag and head for a telephone booth.

I call home to my FBI contact and reverse the charges.

Hello.

What are you doing in New York?

I'm on my way to the Brooklyn Navy Yard,

replacing a local comrade who was killed.

Details?

August Barstoff, party courier.

Murder made to look like suicide.

The body was still hanging in the press room

when I left eight hours ago.

Be careful how you check it.

I don't think anybody knows except myself.

Comrade Cobra and one of the two MVD agents

you're looking for.

Name?

Colonel Polansky.

I think his partner is a woman.

What's my Brooklyn contact number?

Your Brooklyn contact number is...

Well, look me, mister.

Hello, Millicent.

Hello, yourself?

Brooklyn isn't near Pittsburgh.

Pittsburgh isn't near Brooklyn.

You've been expecting you.

The meeting starts in 30 minutes.

I finish here in 10.

I'll get you a cup of coffee while you're waiting for me.

What about a place to sleep?

We have a room for you.

Hey, Millie, I'll buy some silence.

Brooklyn headquarters is an innocuous three-story brownstone

a couple of blocks from the waterfront.

A converted rooming house which boards all the local agents.

I'll be on a constant surveillance here.

Is this by design or accident?

Oh, Comrade Millicent.

Come in.

And this is...

Comrade Spedic from out of town.

How do you do?

How do you do?

And where is Comrade Oken?

She's you here any minute.

She? Comrade Sped?

Yes, Comrade Head Big Oken.

One of our most brilliant party members.

Direct from the Stalin Institute.

Are you discussing me?

Come, Red Oken.

This is Comrade Spedic.

There is Varstov.

I'm taking his place.

Comrade Smith, how did he get here?

Comrade Millicent brought him.

How do we know he's not an FBI spy?

He identified himself correctly?

Oh, but how do we know?

This is childish.

You can check me whenever you please.

I'm here to carry out a mission.

Which is the shipbuilder's union.

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I'm satisfied.

Comrade Millicent.

You have contacted one of the union men.

Yes.

Fans Martin.

He's been a party member for two years.

And he's anxious to do what he can.

Comrade Spedic, this is an important union.

They are at work on some vital naval projects.

So far, we have only been able to win over Martin.

But one man and there is not enough.

He will help you join the union.

When do I meet Comrade Martin?

He comes into the diner every day before his ship.

Brown quarter after three.

You beat the diner tomorrow and I'll introduce you.

There are other items on the agenda.

So I just sit back and listen.

I listen and look and catalog their faces.

What is the connection between head big puck and common bar stuff?

Was she the voice on the phone?

There being no further business to discuss.

The meeting is adjourned.

Comrade Spedic, may I speak with you alone?

What about?

Alone.

Come to the hall.

What's on your mind?

Why did you kill bar stuff?

What did you say?

Why did you kill bar stuff?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Me?

Now back to Dana Andrews, starring as Math Sabetic,

and I was a communist for the FBI

And the second act of our story.

This was it. Fear again.

Fear projected by the cold, deadly accusing boys

that come and hit the rock and why did you kill Buster?

I had this told for a time.

The best defense is an aggressive offense.

I grabbed her arm and replied,

what did you say?

Why did you kill Buster?

Let go of my arm, you're hurting me.

Come on.

Let go!

Let's go!

What is the meaning of this?

Come on, Comrade Arcan.

Repeat what you just asked.

Shoot.

I said repeat what you asked me.

I will hear it from you, Comrade Smithy.

She asked me why I killed Buster.

Comrade Arcan, you place yourself in a very bad position with such a question.

How many times have you seen Comrade Buster?

And under what circumstances?

Was there a romantic attack for you?

Comrade Smith, you excite yourself.

Comrade Smith?

Perhaps Comrade Arcan's suspicions might be alleviated by a long distance phone call.

And you might ask Comrade Kova why Colonel Polonsky recommended me.

Polonsky?

Yes.

Comrade Smith, I wish to withdraw my charge against Comrade Smithy.

Good night.

Next morning, I use an empty cigarette pack as an excuse to get out of the house and call my Brooklyn contact.

Hello.

Three and four are seven.

Seven is a lucky number.

Have you made contact?

I'm living in local headquarters.

Nothing to report is yet.

Did you hear from out west?

Party headquarters out of visit from the local building inspector.

When everything was in order.

Did they find Barstoff's body?

No.

Was Barstoff an FBI contact?

No.

Okay, if he were, you wouldn't tell me.

Any other contact beside you?

The Shushan man outside the King Street subway station.

Tell him you prefer a red polish.

A deep red polish.

Three o'clock, and I'm sitting at a table in the corner of the diner.

And over in the opposite corner, a fat ponchy individual blows the steam off a spoonful of soup.

It's during my second cup of coffee that Hans Martin comes over to the table.

Sit down.

You're old Millie's friend.

And you're a friend, Hans Martin?

First we've got to get you into the union.

It's a meeting of our shift tonight at 11.30.

The business agent for the union will be there.

You meet me at 11.30 and I'll introduce you with my cousin.

Where is the meeting?

In the warehouse of P9.

Don't worry, nobody will stop you.

Just walk past P10 and across the cutover which you can't miss.

Meet me at the entrance to the warehouse.

I walk out of the diner with Hans Martin.

Walk him part way back to the pier.

As we pass the King Street subway station, I say goodbye to him.

Shann, Mr.

I start to say yes, but because I look up, I see Colonel Polonsky coming out of the subway.

He looks straight at me, through me, and around me.

And walks on.

Shann, Mr.

Yeah, I prefer a red polish, a deep red polish.

Well, well, well, my cab driver from home, I'll come.

Yeah, the feeling out there that you might be hidden into something.

I can't get over the feeling of being watched.

I sit back in the shine chair and let my eyes wander.

Sure enough, across the street is a fat man who had been blowing steam from his soups bone in the diner.

Anything to report?

Colonel Polonsky.

What about him?

Can't talk.

Being watched.

Hey, there you are, sir.

Got a shoe, please.

As I walk away from the shoe shine stand, I notice that the fat man has disappeared from the doorway.

Rather than walk the four blocks back to the party headquarters, I take the trolley.

Was the fat man really watching me?

Did I do anything to give myself away?

Oh, nuts.

I'm falling for the old, comy trick.

But the guilty man will always worry.

The innocent man will only be confused.

As I start up the stairs to the three-story brownstone, I turn around and freeze.

There and across the street is the fat man.

I shut the door behind me.

Run up the stairs into the meeting room.

Ah, comrade Spedic.

Colonel Polonsky.

Well, is it comrade Spedic?

You look pretty.

I think I've been followed.

He's right across the street.

Oh, the man has been following me.

Look.

Polonsky and Smith cautiously move across the room and through a party and the drapes get a good look at the fat man standing on the other side of the street.

Comrade Smith, will you leave us alone?

Yes, Colonel.

Well, this is no laughing matter.

Easy, comrade Spedic. Easy.

I watch his Colonel Polonsky lowers and raises the window-shade twice.

And then see the fat man across the street.

Come up the steps and into the brownstone house.

A minute later, the door to the room opens again and he waddles into the room and smiles at me with the lower part of his face.

His eyes can never smile.

Comrade Artoren, this is comrade Spedic.

That was her, I'm honored.

So, it is you who have taken comrade Vastov's place.

This is the other member of the two-man team from the MVD.

This is the voice on the telephone.

I watch you handle your contact in the diner and I'm very pleased to know that we have such workers in the party.

Good.

Spedic, what have you arranged?

I'm to meet Hans Martin on the pier tonight at 11.30.

He's introducing me as his cousin to the business agent of the union.

I should have no trouble.

And my dear comrade, but the test of a good agent is to always be prepared for trouble.

The Colonel Polonsky will accompany you.

In the meantime, I suggest you get some sleep.

You look tired.

At exactly 11, Colonel Polonsky knocks on the door of my room and takes me down to the car he has rented especially for the occasion.

He opens the back door for me and there is comrade Turing.

Come in quickly comrade Spedic.

The night air is a bit cold.

Comrade Spedic, you wonder why a comrade and the Colonel should accompany you.

And such a routine matter.

My duty is not to wander.

That's to obey.

Very convincing comrade Spedic.

You should not have run out of the building where you found Bastard's body after you spoke to me on the phone.

Oh yes, do not look startled.

It was you.

And you should not have entered the building a second time and acted as if it were the first time you had seen the body of comrade Bastard.

And finally, you should not have called the FBI.

This is some sort of joke.

I don't get it.

Or come now comrade Spedic, spy, traitor, fascist tool of the FBI.

Let us put an end to pretenses.

As you say, I am an agent for the FBI.

How do you accompany me to my meeting with Hans Martin?

Why don't you just kill me now?

You have an appointment with him.

If you do not appear, you will ask questions.

Come as I.

We are approaching PR10.

Turn your lights off.

I was comrade Bastard killed.

Let us say he served the cause.

Serve the cause.

Yes.

To trap any traitors in our ranks.

And we did trap you, didn't we?

I should put it all in my report tomorrow.

Moscow will be pleased.

Bear in mind that Colonel Polansky and I are both armed.

Now we shall get out and keep our date with Hans Martin.

The shrill whistle of the tugs.

A basso bomb of the larger vessel

that are playing a funeral deride across the night winds

of the Brooklyn Waterfront.

Carrying the coffin to its final resting place.

You think you get accustomed to staring death in the face, aren't you?

Where is that light coming from?

Drop your guns.

And it's the eye trap.

This is my cue.

I make a die for shelter behind some piling.

And this is my target.

Find myself choking.

The water drags me down the choking.

Asping, fighting my way up my break for air.

And I hear the barking of guns punctuating the stillness of the night.

There's an eerie quiet, isn't it?

Betty!

Betty, are you all right?

There's a little wet, that's all.

Here, grab this rope and I'll put you off.

Thanks.

Where are Turen and Polansky?

We've got them.

Are they dead?

I don't know.

The boys will find out.

But you managed to get here.

We've had a stick out on local headquarters ever since you arrived.

The shoe shine man reported your contact.

And when you've got on the card tonight, we just followed.

Did anybody else know of this, especially?

I don't think so.

But I'm supposed to meet a party and member on Peter 9 at 11.30.

What time is that?

Well, that's the 11.30 break now.

What do I do?

Tell him you slipped and fell overboard to explain you went suit.

We'll take care of Polansky and Turen.

Well, what are you waiting for?

As I make my way to Peter 9, the calm of the waterfront is as before.

As if those gunshots had never been.

As if Polansky and Turen had never been.

But there will always be more Polansky's and more Turen's.

For this fight I'm in is a lonely fight.

And I'm the clever man who must forsake his friends and family

for the false friendship of the comrades in the party.

I must continue this fight along as I walk.

Dana Andrews will be turned in just a moment.

This is Dana Andrews with the word about the story you've just heard.

In this episode, as in all others, names, dates and places are fictitious

to protect innocent people.

However, party headquarters, described as the American Kremlin, did exist.

And similar places will continue to operate in this country until we won the fight against communism.

Next week, another exciting adventure based on Matt Sylvett's experience as an undercover man.

A communist for the FBI.

So join us, aren't you?

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