The Cold War Conspiracy

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The Cold War Conspiracy

Warning to the Reader:

The following is delicate material. It is classified by the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) as

Beyond Top-Secret. Should this information fall into the wrong hands, any knowledge of you

will be disavowed and your records will be terminated. You are advised to be careful, as there

may be enemies listening in. Good Luck, Agent Alpha. We will support this mission in any way

possible.

Sincerely,

Allen W. Dulles

Allen W. Dulles, Head of the CIA

Prologue:

August 13, 1960Vandenberg Air Force Base

Santa Maria, California

10:30 p.m. Pacific Standard Time

The California air was humid as the man made his way to his destination. He knew he had to

move quickly, for he couldnt be seen completing the task hed been given by forces much greater

than him. Giving a careful glance around to make sure nobody was watching, he snuck into the

shack that held the American satellite calledDiscoverer 14. He didnt close the door; it would

take time and make too much noise. He drew closer to the satellite and stuck a small tracking

device on its massive metallic hull. He smiled as he saw it there, the instrument that would

assure his masters victory. Then, he exited the shack as quickly as hed come, vanishing into

the safety of the shadows that slithered like snakes across the Santa Maria landscape.

August 13, 1960

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Arlington HallArlington, Virginia, Virginia10:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time

Far away from theDiscoverersatellite, Cryptologist Jonathan Dunlap was up late, working on

the project that would change his life. Not only was he about to make an incredible discovery,

but it would also be the last project he worked on before dying. He was typing an email to the

head of VENONA, a top secret Government project which was supposed to report on the latest

communications intercepted by the U.S. regarding Soviet actions. Unfortunately, he wouldnt

get a chance to finish it. He was just ready to hit send when one of the terminals next to him,

apparently left on, beeped. He went over to check it. It had picked up an encoded

communication. Dunlap went over to it, suspecting it was only meant for a select few. He

gazed at the code. Being a scientist, he hated things that didnt make any sense, and wanted to

crack the code right away. He grabbed a pencil and paper from his desk and wrote down the

ciphered letters. He tried a few methods that were most common in enciphered messages, but

nothing broke the code. In a moment, he had figured out what the message said.

This isn't good... not good at all, he thought.

He began furiously scribbling a warning to the others in the lab on the paper hed taken from his

desk. He only had time to write a few lines before his heart gave out.

August 14, 1959

Arlington HallArlington, Virginia, Virginia6:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

The head of the VENONA Project, Joseph Wallinsky, wasnt told about Dunlaps ordeal until the

next day. He was sending two top-notch Cryptologists, Matthew Bellville and Lindsay

Tompkins, to try and examine the cryptic clue Dunlap had left behind. Lindsays high heels

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clicked down the corridor as she entered, swaggering in a way that made her blond hair bounce

up and down while she walked. Beside her was Matthew Bellville, a humble but brilliant

Cryptologist who had bailed VENONA out of a situation involving Soviet spies a few years

back. He was muscular, with chestnut skin and short brown hair. He had studied Cryptology at

John Hopkins University, where he met and befriended his future boss, Joseph Wallinsky. His

brown eyes were darting about nervously, as if sensing the tension in the air. Finally, they

reached the office where Dunlap worked. It was a massive room, large enough to house the

three big computer terminals that were inside. Bellville went over to Dunlaps desk and

examined the paper that was on the table. Looking at it, he gasped in shock.

What is it? Lindsay asked.

Look, Bellville leaned closer to her so that she could see the paper, and she too gasped in

shock. She glanced a second time to make sure that shed read right. Written in plain, decoded

text were the words:

Do not let the following message leave the room.

What I am going to tell you will threaten the entire country within twenty four hours.

But what is it hes trying to tell us? Lindsay asked.

Bellville shrugged; the code below would take a while to break.But do we have the time to

spare?

Bellville stared down at the code that was before his eyes and wondered.

These are very volatile times... we must break the code quickly.

He and Lindsay sat at desks near each other and began to work on the code, not knowing what

was to come. They didnt expect that one simple message could plunge them forever into a

world of secrecy, lies, and betrayal where nothing was quite what it seemed on the surface. They

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had no clue enemies were plotting against them, and had been for many hours. They were

nothing more than pieces of the puzzle, pawns in the game of people far wiser and more

resourceful than they could ever hope to be. They would continue to be in the dark, at least until

Dunlaps code was deciphered.

Lindsay glanced down at Dunlaps mysterious message. Nothing makes sense here, she

concluded. Bellville nodded in agreement.

Whatever the message said, it was obviously not meant for just anyone.

They took another look at the code, approaching it from all different angles, trying this method

and that algorithm.

I dont see any solution to this at all, Bellville sighed.

Lindsay was about ready to agree with him.

There has to be something were not seeing. She thought it over, taking it step by step.

Still, nothing gave her any insight as to Dunlaps message.

What could be so important that he had to keep it hidden from unworthy eyes? She wondered.

Bellville was next to her, clacking away on the keyboard of a lit up computer terminal.

Ive got it! he announced.

Whatd you find? Lindsay asked excitedly. He pointed to his computer screen, and Lindsay

read the words that appeared there:

The Digraph Cipher

The Digraph Cipher is a complex method of encoding in which the message to be coded is

divided into segments that are two letters long (digraphs). Each digraph is then replaced with

another one based on its position in a 26 by 26 letter square. For example, the digraph for the

word is would be the digraph where the column I meets the row s. The 26-by-26 square

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leaves 676 possible digraphs (26 rows times 26 columns.) In order to solve it, the code breaker

must find the value of all 676 digraphs.

You think that might be it? Lindsay asked excitedly.

Its worth a shot, Bellville shrugged. Lindsay gave a slow nod.

The only problem is the fact that theres so many digraphs, Lindsay pointed out.

Bellville had been thinking the same thing.

Not to mention were low on time, he added.

Lindsay nodded; she certainly had not forgotten that the message was time-sensitive.

How long ago did Dunlap write this? She asked.

Bellville checked his watch and did the math. When he was done, he glared at Lindsay.

Just over four and a half hours ago.

They would have to move fast.

Where do we go from here? Bellville asked. Lindsay was silent; she didnt have an answer.

He glanced again at the code that Dunlap had written. Suddenly, Lindsay was struck by

inspiration.

I have an idea.

What?

Itll take us forever to crack the code with all those possibilities, but what if we got a bunch of

the other Cryptologists to work on it?

Bellville did the math in his head:If we could get five Cryptologists working on Dunlaps code at

once, we would each only have to work on five solutions!

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Lindsay, thats brilliant! Bellville couldnt imagine why they hadnt thought of that before

nor could he imagine what was to come.

August 14, 1960CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia6:45 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

The body of John Dunlap had just been presented to Nadia Johnson. The head of the CIA, Allen

Dulles, had ordered an investigation of Dunlaps death by Nadia, one of his most skilled analysts.

Nadia was supposed to examine the body inside and out with the help of Dr. Roger Long from

Langley. The doctor had made a careful incision into the chest and pinned it open. They were

staring at the body when Dr. Long let out a long gasp.

Whats wrong? Nadias blue eyes lit up with concern.

Ms. Johnson, this is very serious. I think wed better contact someone immediately.

Back at Arlington Hall, Lindsay and Bellville had gathered a team of Cryptologists to work on

the code, but they were still no better off than theyd been when the whole ordeal had started.

Bellville hadnt yet started his work, as he was looking over at Lindsays work.

Anything yet? Bellville asked. Lindsay shook her head. You?

Bellville shook his head. Even with four other Cryptologists working on it, they seemed to be

getting nowhere. Bellville had no suggestions, so he returned to his own work.

I just wish there was something that repeated so we could see what if it always meant the same

thing, Lindsay said. Bellville took another look at the mysterious message, and something

caught his eye.

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Look at this! Bellville showed the message to Lindsay.

How could we have missed that? She wondered.

There are repetitions. Lindsay was in shock. Bellville nodded.

Now we just have to find out what the repeated digraphs mean.

They decided to go through the message and circle all the repetitions they found. Lindsay began

work on that and dictated the repeated digraphs to Bellville, who wrote them on a separate piece

of paper:

RP RP RP

Weve got RP repeated three times.RP seems to be important to the message, but what does

it mean? Lindsay wondered. Bellville glanced at the message, knowing that there were 676

possible meanings of that one digraph. He knew they didnt have that long to decrypt the

message, but he also had a plan in mind.

RP Lindsay mused. It doesnt seem to be helping much.

Not yet but we can put everyone on it at once. Bellville sounded excited.

Lindsay did some quick math in her head:six hundred and seventy-six digraphs divided by six

Cryptologists... Is still almost one hundred twelve solutions each.

We need more people; this will take too long. If we get ten people in all, we each only need to

work on sixty-seven solutions; its better than one twelve.

Bellville gave a nod of agreement; the faster this code was cracked, the better.

Suddenly, Bellville smiled. I just realized something we dont need any more people.

What do you mean?

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All we need to crack this code is something with all the possible digraphs in it.

He typed something in to a search engine too rapidly for Lindsay to see.

He clicked on to a website that displayed the digraphs in a twenty-six by twenty-six grid and set

to work cracking the code.

VZ means IH... NL translates to AV He continued on, breaking each digraph with

Lindsays help. After about ten minutes, they had solved Dunlaps puzzle.

Arlington Hall

7:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

Looks like weve cracked the code, Bellville announced.

Whats it say? A bald cryptologist with thin glasses who was near them asked.

Lindsay read the letters off:

The Soviets are coming. They have made a discovery: a fourteen ton warhead.

Thats incredible! Bellville knew the implications of this discovery. What he didnt know was

the length that his enemies would go to to cover up the crisis.

We need to get this to Wallinskyfast, Lindsay said. Bellville gave a nod of agreement.

The Head of the VENONA Project would surely know what to do, and he had ordered the two

Cryptologists to hand him their solution as soon as theyd found it. Lindsay handed Bellville the

encrypted message and he took it to the office where Wallinsky worked. Bellville exited before

Wallinsky had a chance to really get a good look at the message, but it wasnt long after Bellville

took his leave before the Director noticed there was something odd about the message hed just

been given.

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CIA HeadquartersLangley, VA


CIA Analyst Nadia Johnson had just been given the body of John Dunlap. Shed been given

orders by the Head of the CIA, Allen Dulles, to perform an autopsy on Dunlap. She was waiting

for Dr. Roger Long, a Langley man whod been assigned to help her examine the body. Little

did she know, Dr. Long was being followed by an unexpected guest. Finally, the door swung

open slowly. Nadia glanced at the entrance to see a man with light brown hair and a long beard

that matched. He looked like hed been through the war: his beard was scraggly, and his hair

was all over the place.

Youre Dr. Long? Nadia asked; she could barely believe that the man had gotten a P.H.D.

Yes. I assume youre Agent Johnson?

Nadia gave a quick nod.

Ok, then. Well need to make an incision in order to examine him.

Dr. Long did so using the tools hed brought with him. From the place hed opened up, he could

see the digestive tract. He hadnt expected to see what was coming next.

He was snooping around and suddenly stopped dead in the examination.

Is something wrong?

Dr. Long nodded slowly.

Yes, Ms. Johnson, something is very wrong. I think you should contact someone immediately.

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Arlington Hall

Somethings odd here Wallinsky told himself. He re-read the code to make sure hed gotten it

right. He had. He began muttering the message aloud to himself, as if that would somehow

make more sense of it than it had before.

The Soviets are coming. They have made a discovery: a fourteen ton warhead.

Wallinsky couldnt put his finger on it, but something was strange about that code. Before he had

a chance to figure out what it was, one of his assistants ran in the room.

Sir, I just got a call from the White House. President Kennedy requests your presence there. He

says its urgent.

Thank you. Wallinsky decided whatever was strange about the code would have to wait until

later; he had to meet with the most powerful man on the planet.

Wallinsky hadnt gotten very far down the hall when a thought struck him suddenly:

The code! I should bring it.

He turned back to his office to go and get it, but realized he should probably get going. Wallinsky

reversed his direction a second time, went outside, and climbed into his car. Once inside, he

glanced at his watch: 7:30 a.m. Whatever the President wants to talk about, hed better make it

fast. The car took off from Arlington Hall, leaving Wallinskys mind churning with thoughts: The

strange feeling hed gotten when glancing at Dunlaps clue, the reasons as to why the President

wanted to meet with him, and worst of all, whether they would solve the crisis before the events

Dunlap had warned about transpired.

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The White HouseWashington, D.C.

8:30 a.m.

Wallinsky had just arrived and was trying to shake off the jet lag as he walked into the White

House. The sound of one of the White Houses secretaries calling him shattered his trance-like

state.

Hello. Can I have your name, please?

Joseph Wallinsky. I have an appointment with the President, he stated flatly.

The secretary glanced down at her clipboard and nodded.

Youre cleared. Wallinsky thanked her and walk straight ahead to the door shed pointed to,

which was labeled Oval Office. He opened the door slowly, as if unsure. Hed expected to see

the President and his Cabinet, but the young John F. Kennedy was alone. His tanned face turned

towards Wallinsky as he entered.

Mr. Wallinsky. Glad you could make it.

Good morning, Mr. President.

The man laughed. Please, call me John, but thats enough with formalities. I assume you know

why I called you?

Wallinsky shook his head no. My secretary just told me it was urgent.

Kennedy smiled. This morning John Dunlap died and left behind a message the contents of

which threaten the entire country.

Wallinsky nodded, bidding him to continue.

Ive called you here to ask for your help.

Wallinsky had a hard time imagining why the President of the most powerful country on earth

needed his help.

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Ok...

I need your help deciding where to go from here. Before the Director could reply, a young

man rushed into the Oval Office. Wallinsky and Kennedy both turned to look at him. He held

up a hand apologetically.

Sorry to disturb you, but Ive got an urgent message from one of the workers on the VENONA

Project.

Kennedy didnt seem so much angry as concerned.

Excuse me one second, he said to Wallinsky.

The Director gave an understanding nod and Kennedy went to see what the caller wanted.

CIA Headquarters

Who should we call? Whats wrong? Nadia was concerned; Dunlap was a good friend of hers

whom she wanted to make sure was taken care of. The Doctor showed her Dunlaps digestive

tract, and motioned to his heart. He explained how hed come to the conclusion that hed hoped

had been wrong, but now had very little doubt was correct. And then, he divulged the terrible

truth. When Nadia heard what he had said, she almost had a heart attack herself.

Youre serious? She asked, hoping he wasnt.

Dr. Long nodded slowly.

Im afraid this is something too dire to joke about, Ms. Johnson.

Nadia swallowed hard and tried to accept the truth, but it was far too much for her to

comprehend all at once.

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Oval Office

When Kennedy came back from his phone call, he wasnt quite as chipper as he seemed before.

In fact, he seemed slightly disappointed.

Is something the matter, Sir? Wallinsky asked sympathetically.

Its the call. Someone from the VENONA Project said something

What is it? Wallinsky asked.

According to the Cryptologists in Arlington, one of your scientists misinterpreted Dunlaps

code.

Thats why it seemed strange; it was wrong! Wallinsky reflected. Kennedy glanced at the clock.

Not only that, its almost eight oclock; we have just less than three hours before doomsday.

It sounded like a long time, but Wallinsky knew it would go fast.

In that case, I guess VENONA better go into overdrive. But do we do?

Kennedy shrugged.

Theres nothing we can do; we cant handle the crisis until we know what the crisis is. All we

can do is sit and wait for the call to come... And hope like heck it comes in time.

Wallinsky wanted to help, but felt completely powerless. Whoever the enemy was, they seemed

to have the upper hand at the moment.

CIA Headquarters

Nadia Johnson was still shocked at what shed been told. If Dr. Long was correct, this discovery

had to get to Dulles as soon as possible. She knew Dulles had a reputation for staying calm under

pressure, not to mention he would have the authority to act on this potent information.

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I-Ill be right back, she stammered. She headed for Dulles office, still in a state of disbelief.

Had she not been concentrating so much on what shed been told, she might have seen the man

sneaking up behind her...

Oval Office

10:00 a.m.

President Kennedy was praying silently for a call from VENONA. They had only an hour and

a half before the event Dunlap had warned them about took place, and it didnt seem like the

cryptologists were any further along than when the meeting had commenced. Kennedy was

getting very nervous. Something has to be done... but what? All of a sudden, inspiration struck.

Kennedy ran outside the office to use the secretarys phone so his line was still free to get a call

from VENONA.

Can you get me the number for the Head of the CIA? Kennedy pleaded.

One of his secretaries nodded and began flipping through Kennedys address book to D.

She found it and handed it to him. He thanked her and quickly rushed to the nearest phone. He

glanced at the card in his hand:

Dulles, Allen

Head of the Central Intelligence Agency

Langley, VA

(235) 766-8102

He began dialing, but got a busy signal. Darn! If he couldnt get through in time, the whole

country would pay for it. It was then that Wallinsky entered, holding the Presidents personal

phone.

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Dulles is on the phone, sir. He has something important to tell you. Kennedy hung up the

secretarys phone, feeling like a fool. He took the receiver and listened to the mans grave

message.

Uh-huh... yes.

Kennedy did more listening than talking. When the call was over, the President was gaping in

shock.

What happened, sir? Wallinsky asked.

Dulles said he sent one of his agents to investigate Dunlaps murder. She came into his office

and seemed to be trying to tell him something important, but she was murdered before she could

finish telling him what she wanted to say.

Wallinsky was just as shocked as President Kennedy was. Kennedy turned back to the phone

and dialed Dulles number.

Hello. I need to talk to Allen Dulles immediately.

A few seconds later, Dulles came on the other end.

Hello?

Hello, Allen. Its President Kennedy. Listen, I want this agent's death investigated as soon as

possible."

"Yes, sir. We have a Forensics Lab all ready in Langley."

"Good. And I want to know as soon as there are any results."

"Will do." Then Dulles hung up.

Wallinsky could tell the President was under pressure. He caught a glimpse of the clock:

10:20 a.m. Time was ticking...

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Oval Office

10:29 a.m.

We're dead, a voice inside Kennedy told him. The country he'd helped to raise from the depths

of the Cold War was now in danger. With just one minute left, and still no answer from

VENONA, things were looking pretty grim. He'd already dispatched the nation's sharpest minds

to solve the coded message, to no avail; what else was there to do but sit and await inevitable

defeat?

I'm a failure as a leader. Kennedy was trying to crush the thought, but it remained, like an

unwelcome visitor in the house of his mind. He wanted to defeat it, to rise above the challenge

and beat it just like he'd always done, but the challenge seemed too hard to conquer, the

mountain too tall to climb. He sighed and put a hand on his head; he had a migraine the size of a

small country. Little did he know, one event was about to erase all his unhappiness in the matter

of a few seconds.

Just when all hope seemed lost, the Oval Office's phone rang, giving Kennedy the slightest ray of

hope. Could it be? It didn't seem possible; it would have taken a miracle. He advanced slowly

to the phone, as if unsure whether this was real or a dream.

"Hello?" His voice was wavering uncharacteristically.

"President Kennedy?"

"Yes. Are you from the VENONA Project?" He hoped against all hope.

"Yes I am. We have the answer to Dunlap's code. For real this time." Kennedy heard his watch

beep. In horror, he recalled the time he'd set it to go off at: 10:30 a.m., exactly twenty four hours

after Dunlap's code had been written.

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CIA Forensics Lab

Langley, VA


Forensic Detective Robert Redford examined the bullet he'd recovered from the scene of Nadia's

murder. He knew both that he was working under a time constraint, and that he could use the

marks made in the bullet by the manufacturing process to identify the gun's model. He brought

the bullet under a magnifying glass to get a better look at it. He began noticing the number and

positioning of the markings on the bullet and recorded his observations. Being a Forensic

Scientist, he'd dealt with a fair share of murders and had learned what different markings on the

bullet meant. Within a few moments, he had an answer as to the type of gun. If he played his

cards right, he could get the murderer as well.

Oval Office10:30 a.m.

"You said you solved Dunlap's code?" President Kennedy almost didn't dare to believe it. But

wasn't it already too late?

"Yes, sir. It says 'I have intercepted a Soviet communication. Discoverer 14 is in danger. It will

be destroyed within twenty-four hours.'"

Kennedy was not as relieved as he thought he would be; theDiscovererwas the American's first

spy satellite. If it were destroyed, the Soviets would surely get a leg up in the Cold War, which

meant mass hysteria, the White House coming under verbal attacks from all sides, anarchy, and

total chaos.

"We're awaiting your orders, sir," The cryptologist said.

Kennedy didn't know what to say.

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"Just remain where you are; I'll handle this." When Kennedy had hung up, he marched outside

without so much as a word to Director Wallinsky. He went up to his secretary's desk and asked

her how quickly she could summon the President's personal jet,Air Force One.

"I'll have it here in five minutes," she promised. The President nodded to show this was

satisfactory and then waited while the secretary dialed the Secret Service to prepare the plane.

While he waited, there were plenty of interesting events going on in other parts of the country.

CIA Forensics LabLangley, VA

10:35 a.m.

Redford double-checked his work. Yes, he was sure he'd been correct. All the signs on the gun

had pointed to an AK-47 Assault Rifle, which was manufactured in none other than Russia. He

was almost certain the Soviets were to blame for Nadia's death, and possibly for the event that

was threatening the country. Something inside of him told him to call the Oval Office and report

his findings, and yet there was a stronger instinct telling him to dig deeper. Somewhere, behind

the veil of secrecy that he'd grown accustomed to, there lurked a skillful criminal who had made

it their task to ruin the first (and possibly last) American reconnaissance mission involving a spy

satellite.

Washington

President Kennedy was about to board the plane with Wallinsky trailing just behind him.

Kennedy's mind was overflowing with disturbing thoughts: What if we're too late? What if

Nadia's killer is never found and the satellite is destroyed? Things were already bad enough

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with the mass hysteria of the Cold War, but now people's fears of the Communists would only be

increased. He tried to calm himself as he stepped onboard. Their plane was about to take off

when the Plane's phone rang. When he was done talking, Kennedy's face had gone pale.

"What's the matter, sir?" Wallinsky asked.

"That call was from one of my secretaries.Discovereris in the air already; we're too late."

Wallinsky shuddered to think of the repercussions that might come from theDiscoverercrisis.

What he didn't know was that Kennedy wasn't finished yet. And what the Director was about to

hear wasn't good news.

"I'm afraid there's more, Kennedy sighed. Wallinsky's eyes glanced at the President, suddenly

attentive.

"Our radar has detected a missile going up from Cuba. Three guesses where it's going."

Wallinsky felt so powerless, so useless to everyone asAir Force One lifted off the ground.

Kennedy rushed to the phone and dialed the digits quickly.

"Hello?"

The voice belonged to the head of Vandenberg's Mission Control, Jim Flaherty.

"This is President Kennedy. I have been informed of a terrible crisis involving the satellite you

just sent up. The Soviets had sent a missile up; I need a bomber to shoot the missile down."

"Will do, sir." Kennedy thanked the man and was about to hang up when a question popped into

his head.

"How quickly can you get it up there?"

"Well, I don't know... Kennedy had no patience whatsoever for the man.

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"The entire country's in trouble, for crying out loud! Just get it as quickly as possible."

"Yes, sir."

On any other day, Flaherty would have gotten upset if someone had talked to him like that, but

he knew now wasn't the time; the President obviously had too much to think about already.

Flaherty hung up and gave the order to send a bomber up. All he could do was pray it got there in

time.

CIA Forensics LabLangley

Redford was going about his work more carefully now. He set the gun down on a table to go and

get a bag of special dust that could reveal any fingerprints left on the weapon. He knew finding

Nadia's killer was of crucial importance. He sprinkled some of the white dust onto it, and then

went to go get a brush to dust the gun off with. Brushing it off, he saw a set of fingerprints on the

trigger.

Perfect, he thought. Rarely ever was the evidence in a case so definite or conclusive. He booted

up his laptop, which contained a special database that could match a set of fingerprints to their

owner and had over 50,000 people in it. This was both a blessing and a curse: with 50,000 people

to choose from, he was sure he'd get a match somewhere. Unfortunately, there were so many

suspects, it would take time to narrow the list.. and time was something they didn't have a lot of.

Vandenberg Air Force Base

The base was alive with technicians, engineers, mechanics, and scientists scrambling here and

there. They seemed to be more like people in a city, rushing back and forth, each one busy with

their own tasks and chores. Flaherty had been called in to give the bomber a final check-up

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before it was cleared to fly. He was under pressure; he had to check the plane thoroughly, and

yet, he didn't have time to double-check every minute detail. He glanced the plane over: it looked

ready to fly, but he knew better; he checked the inner workings, the engine and all the things that

made it tick. When he was sure he'd checked every detail, he cleared the plane to fly. He thought

he'd checked and double-checked everything before it lifted off. He was wrong.

Airspace over Vandenberg

The plane had lifted off and hadn't had time to gain much altitude when an unmarked plane flew

near it.

"Be careful. There's another plane nearby." Flaherty had seen the plane on radar and was taking

no chances.

"Thanks, Vandenberg," the pilot replied gratefully into the radio.

The unmarked plane flew closer to the American bomber, which was calledRhapsody.

Now Flaherty was very worried.

"Rhapsody, the plane's coming up on your left. You have permission to open fire if necessary."

The Pilot made no reply because something was flying at theRhapsody. Somehow, the pilot had

a feeling it wasn't a gift.

CIA Forensics Lab

Langley

The fingerprint database program was about a quarter of a way through its search, and no

suspects had been found yet. Redford glanced at the dismal results:

Suspects Searched: 12,500

Match(es) Found: None

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Suspects Remaining: 37,500

Estimated Time Remaining: 1 Hour.

An hour? He would have to wait sixty minutes just to possibly end up with no matches. He

wished he could somehow speed the machine up and was staring at it when it beeped. He

glanced at the screen:

Match(es) Found: one.

Bingo, he thought. He'd just solved one of the biggest murder cases in the country at the

moment... or at least, that was what he thought.

Airspace over Vandenberg

An explosion ripped through theRhapsodys backend, shaking Capt. Daniel Hawkins to the

core.

"What do we do?" his navigator, Michael Lincoln asked.

"Return fire!" Hawkins' had always had a short temper, but in these sorts of times, it was even

worse than usual.

Lincoln didn't want to argue, but his instinct got the better of him.

"I don't know if that's a possibility...

"And why not?" Hawkins pressed.

Lincoln pointed to the meter that showed the remaining gas level.

"We're low on fuel." Wonderful, Hawkins thought. The base they'd flown out of was full of

engineers and rocket scientists, yet nobody had thought to check the fuel level?

"I guess we don't have much choice to refuel," Hawkins said.But what if the other plane follows

us?

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It was a chance they'd have to take. Hawkins turned to Lincoln.

"We're going back to Vandenberg."

"You sure that's a good idea?"

"If I wasn't sure, do you think I'd tell you to do it?" He snapped. Considering the alternative,

Lincoln agreed with him. "Ok, then." He grabbed the radio and began speaking into it as

Hawkins took their plane closer to the ground.

"Vandenberg, this is Michael Lincoln. Can you hear me?"

"We read you, Lincoln. Over."

"We're running out of fuel, so we're coming back to base. Over."

"Affirmative. We'll have gas ready when you arrive."

"Thanks, Vandenberg."

"What's your altitude?"

Lincoln checked the corresponding meter.

"We're at 1500 feet and falling. We'll see you soon."

"Ok." Then, Lincoln stopped transmitting. They were going down faster now, freefalling through

Earth's atmosphere. Then, like lightning, a plane came from out of nowhere. That's what I was

afraid of, Lincoln thought.

"Captain, they're right on our tail."

Lincoln spoke urgently into the radio.

"Vandenberg, can you hear us? We're being followed."

"This is Mission Control. Bring your speed up a bit."

Hawkins knew it was risky; too fast and they'd have a head-on collision with the ground... too

slow, and they'd surely get caught.

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Wallinsky nodded slowly, his eyes still examining the paper and his brain still trying to absorb it

all.

The information on the page was incredible to him:

Patient's Name: Dunlap, Jonathan

Doctor: Roger Long

Symptoms Identified: Bleeding of the digestive tract and blocked heart found during an autopsy

on the body. A white powder was found in the digestive tract as well.

Conclusion: Dunlap suffered from blockage of the heart, in addition to bleeding of the digestive

tract, both of which are symptoms of Potassium Chloride poisoning. Potassium Chloride is a

chemical compound that has a whitish color, just like the powder found in Dunlap's body. We

therefore have evidence to believe that John Dunlap was murdered.

Wallinsky was speechless. Obviously, he would have to step up security back at Arlington Hall

when this whole thing was over. Wallinsky pondered the events of the past forty-eight hours,

wondering what fate would bring upon him next. He didn't know that fate was planning to

surprise him yet again.

The American bomber was back in the sky now, its tank refueled and its Captain more

determined than ever to win the battle that could save the country... or end up destroying it. The

unmarked bomber darted back and forth through the air swiftly, as if daring Hawkins' crew to

come closer.

Hawkins let out a round of machine gun fire, and saw that the ship had been damaged, though

not badly. It still fought, answering Hawkins with a round of its own. The two exchanged fire for

what seemed like forever. Then, all of a sudden, one of the planes was sent plummeting

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downward towards the ground. Nobody could tell whether it was Hawkins' plane or the enemy's,

and time seemed to stand still as they waited for the result.

Everyone that had been inside Vandenberg Air Force base all rushed outside to see if the

Rhapsody had made it back safely. Something zoomed through the sky above them and they

glanced up in time to see a plane with no visible markings flying overhead.

"We lost them," Flaherty said somberly. For a moment, nobody spoke; there wasn't much of

anything to say.

"I'm sorry, Jim. They were good men," the President said. Flaherty gave a slow, reflective nod.

"Hey, look!" One of the operators yelled, pointing up at the plane. The vehicle was giving a slow

turn, one hundred eighty degrees, so that the right side faced them instead of the left.

On the right side was a decal of an American flag and the wordsRhapsody painted in silver.

"They made it!" Flaherty felt like a father being told his child was safe after some huge crisis.

President Kennedy was happy as well, but was more concerned with other matters. Where did

the others go? He was bent on finding and bringing the ones responsible to justice. Too bad they

were getting away.

"They're getting away!" Kennedy yelled, turning everyone's eyes to him.

"Have security stop them," he ordered Flaherty. Flaherty nodded and gave the order via radio.

Soon, three armed men ran after the culprits. They began firing on the ones who were trying to

escape.

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The girl sounded like a possible candidate for the attacks that had occurred. Nevertheless, if she

had been exiled by the KGB, why would she help them? Conversely, why would the KGB be so

eager to have her as an ally again? Redford got a pad and paper and quickly scribbled down her

name. If he could just get a phone number for her, someplace where she worked, or maybe her

home address. He needn't have worried about it; the suspect was about to be delivered right into

the hands of justice.

Vandenberg Air Force Base

Kennedy turned to the security guard and whispered to them to arrest the man standing before

them.

"What the-" The man had tried to run, but to no avail; he had been captured.

"What are you doing? You can't arrest me without any evidence!"

Kennedy smirked.

"Actually, I believe only citizens of this country must be given a reason for their arrest. Unless

you can show me some proof of citizenship here, I have every right to bring you into custody.

Well? We're all waiting..." The man had nothing to show.

"I didn't think so. We're going to visit an old friend of mine in Virginia." Kennedy nodded toAir

Force One and the security guards hauled the suspect off to the plane, which sat waiting just

outside the Air Force Base.

"I'm glad this is finally all over... Kennedy said.

He had spoken too soon.

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Once the President had made his way ontoAir Force One, he went to the phone to dial the

Forensics Lab in Langley. Redford was the only one there and answered the phone, though he

hated to be pulled away from an investigation.

"Hello?"

"Hello. This is President Kennedy. Is this Robert Redford?"

"Yes, sir. How are you? Its been a long time."

"I'm ok, considering everything that's been going on today. But I need you or one of your

associates to question a suspect we have in custody."

"You have someone in custody?! That's great. I'm in the middle of an investigation, but I can

send my co-worker. His name's Ralph Woods."

"That's perfect. We can meet him in a few hours at CIA Headquarters."

Redford agreed to the terms and promised to call his friend and have him there in time.

CIA HeadquartersLangley, VA


Hours later, the suspect and Forensic Detective Ralph Woods were inside a small, dimly lit room

inside CIA Headquarters. The room was soundproofed so outsiders had no chance of listening in.

Kennedy and Wallinsky had been kept out, and they wouldn't be informed of anything until the

questioning was over. Woods scribbled notes on a pad as the suspect talked. He had also hooked

the man up to a lie detector to help see whether he was telling the truth. Woods knew that lie

detectors weren't one hundred percent accurate; since the machine used nervousness to guess if

someone was lying, it didn't account for criminals who could control their emotions expertly, or

for innocent people who were nervous just to take the test. Still, he hoped it would help a little

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bit. When the session of questions and answers was over, though, Woods was shocked at the

answers he'd been given. If they were true, the case had just taken a turn he'd never expected.

Kennedy was growing impatient. He'd been trying for days to go out and find the criminals, and

now that they just might be in his possession, he wanted some answers. After what seemed like

an eternity, the door to the soundproofed room opened. Woods' face displayed the confusion that

was running through his head.

"Is something wrong?" Kennedy asked once Woods was out of the room.

"It just doesn't make any sense..." Woods muttered.

"What doesn't?"

Woods didn't reply; he was too busy playing the interrogation over in his head.

"Woods... can you tell us what happened?" Kennedy pried.

Woods was shaking his head, almost ignoring the President in his confusion.

Kennedy's brow furrowed with indignation.

"Woods... is he or is he not the criminal?!"

Woods finally snapped out of his trance-like state.

"Yes... and no."

"What on Earth are you talking about?" Something's telling me this guy should be in a mental

institution rather than working for the CIA, Kennedy thought.

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"According to the testimony I received, this man's name is Dennis Conrad. He's guilty... but he

wasn't working alone."

Kennedy's face lit up with surprise.

"He wasn't? Then who-"

Kennedy didn't finish his sentence because Conrad was making a run for it.

"He's getting away!" Kennedy exclaimed. He and Woods rushed to the front door, but it was too

late.

"Follow him!" the President barked. The CIA's security followed Conrad.

Gunshots exploded like firecrackers outside the door of the building.

"Who's winning?" Woods asked Kennedy as the President watched the scene from a window.

"It's close right now. I'll let you know if something changes." There were more shots and

someone ducked behind a garbage can.I can't tell who that is...did someone win?

"It's all moving too fast to follow," Kennedy added. In another minute, it was all over.

Nobody seemed severely injured. Kennedy still couldn't tell who was who. The men scrambled

again, and someone got the upper hand. Soon, everyone was walking back towards CIA

Headquarters. The faces of the security guards were scratched and scraped, and they were

panting heavily from exhaustion. There were two men in front of them, both in handcuffs. At

first, Kennedy couldn't get a good look at the second man who'd been arrested, but then the man

turned towards him. Kennedy stared at the suspect. "This is impossible! You've got it all wrong."

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"I'm afraid not; the testimonial identified him by name." Kennedy's eyes widened in shock... he

was staring into the lifeless eyes of Joseph Wallinsky.

"How-you-we... The President stammered.

"I'll give you a moment to collect your thoughts."

Something must be wrong... he helped the investigation against himself?

"But... you were with me the whole time... how did you kill Dunlap and Nadia?"

Wallinsky nodded towards Conrad, the other man in handcuffs.

"You helped him? Why?"

Conrad recounted the call Wallinsky had delivered to him in the secret of his office back in

Arlington Hall after everyone had left.

A storm had been carrying on for several hours, as if predicting the chaos Wallinsky was about

to unleash. Conrad had been working as an accountant in Russia ever since he was fired from

the KGB for a conspiracy to overthrow the Government. Wallinsky had apparently done his

homework, and called raving about a scheme that would offer revenge against the Soviets, and

particularly the KGB. Fortunately for Wallinsky, revenge was exactly what Conrad was after.

The two began to conspire, enlisting two other former KGB Agents who had also been fired and

desired revenge to help carry out their plot. And then, Wallinsky explained what he had in mind...

Kennedy had so many other questions. Why were Nadia and Dunlap killed? What was Wallinsky

hoping to accomplish by settingDiscovererup to be hit? The President couldn't imagine that

even as he was being hauled off towards prison, Wallinsky had one final trick up his sleeves.

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Vandenberg Air Force Base12:00 a.m. Eastern Standard Time

One of the operators of Vandenberg's radar let out a gasp. "What's wrong?" a female operator

next to him asked.

"Look at the radar; the missile just hitDiscoverer."

The woman's eyes widened in fear.

"We were too late..." tears ran down her face.

"Wait a minute... something weird is happening."

"What?"

"The missile... it's turning or something."

"You're right." There was the slightest hint of hope in her voice.

"You think the co-ordinates or something were off?" the man asked.

"It's possible... but they're only off by a hair... chillingly close." A shiver ran down her spine.

"Any closer and we'd need a new spy satellite."

The male operator checked the co-ordinates ofDiscoverer.

"They're off, but just by a little bit."

"Thank God." The woman's heart was beating twice as fast as normal.

"I wouldn't speak so soon if I were you... The man pointed to the radar and the woman checked

it. When she saw it, she gasped.

"The Soviets knew exactly what they were doing... The man nodded.

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"In a few seconds,Discovererwill be perfectly in line with the missile. We have to call the

President."

The man rushed to the nearest phone and dialed Kennedy's emergency contact line.

"President Kennedy speaking."

"Sir, this is Michael Keller. I'm one of the operators at Vandenberg. TheDiscoverersatellite is

going to be hit any second. You have to do something."

Kennedy thanked the man and assured that the problem would be solved. Then, he hung up.

The next thing anyone knew, Kennedy was manning the cockpit ofAir Force One. He rushed

through the air, nearing the missile. Meanwhile, on the ground, Wallinsky was shocked.Is he

insane?

Kennedy realized everyone probably thought he was nuts, but didn't care.

There's a method to my madness. He wondered whether it were possible for the plane to move

any faster. He glanced up into the sky. The missile's just inches away... will I get there in time?

Kennedy neared the missile, closer and closer.If I could just nudge it with the nose of the plane...

He tried to, tilting it away from the satellite. One more time... the next nudge of the plane was

much harder, much faster than the others. It sent the missile flying into space.Bingo...now it will

burn up somewhere outside the atmosphere... and never bother us again.

En Route to Washington, D.C.

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It was supposed to be the perfect crime! How could it have failed? Wallinsky had had the entire

thing planned out.I used a Russian-made gun, launched the missile from a base in a Soviet-

controlled country. Yet, somehow, he'd gotten caught.

"Well, great plan." Conrad rolled his eyes.

"Did I know it was going to turn out like this?"

"Look, you promised me revenge or else I wouldn't have done it."

"Well, if they believed it was the KGB, you would have hadrevenge."

"Why did you do it, anyway?"

Wallinsky sighed; the memory was quite painful and he wasn't sure he wanted it to bring it up.

"When I was little, my father was in the Air Force and he died in a war. I was young, and I

promised revenge on the Air Force... although it wasn't really their fault. Still, I guess I let my

childish instinct get the best of me. And everyone was so afraid of the Soviets... I thought they

were the perfect people to blame."

"So you scammed a bunch of former KGB agents for your own purposes?"

"Well, when you put it like that... Wallinsky sighed again. Theres no denying it...

"Yes."

Conrad nodded. "I see."

He glanced out the window of the plane, pondering what his fate would be...

After-Note:

Wallinsky and Conrad were tried and convicted on charges of Conspiracy, Treason, and Murder.

They were sentenced to one life term each, but reduced their sentences by revealing the names of

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the other two KGB Agents, who were later captured. When Conrad got out, he wrote a book of

all the events that had happened to him, entitledThe Cold War Conspiracy. In the book, he

revealed he'd never planned to kill Nadia or Dunlap. According to him, he had to keep them

quiet about the conspiracy they'd uncovered. Bellville and Lindsay were appointed the new

Heads of the VENONA Project and President Kennedy became even more of a national hero

than before. Redford was awarded a Congressional Medal of Honor and then lived a quiet life,

at least until his next case came along....

Documents

The Cold War Conspiracy