Winter of the World

Alice interjected angrily: ‘We assumed the American military would give some demonstration of the power of the bomb, as a threat to make the Japanese surrender earlier.’ So she had known about the bomb beforehand, Volodya noted. He was not surprised. Men found it hard to keep such things from their wives. ‘So we expected a detonation some time, somewhere,’ she went on. ‘But we imagined they would destroy an uninhabited island, or maybe a military facility with a lot of weapons and very few people.’

‘That might have been justifiable,’ Frunze said. ‘But . . .’ His voice fell to a whisper. ‘Nobody thought they would drop it on a city and kill eighty thousand men, women and children.’

Volodya nodded. ‘I thought you might feel this way.’ He had been hoping for it with all his heart.

Frunze said: ‘Who wouldn’t?’

‘Let me ask you an even more important question.’ This was step four. ‘Will they do it again?’

‘I don’t know,’ Frunze said. ‘They might. Christ forgive us all, they might.’

Volodya concealed his satisfaction. He had made Frunze feel responsible for future use of nuclear weapons, as well as past.

Volodya nodded. ‘That’s what we think.’

Alice said sharply: ‘Who’s we?’

She was shrewd, and probably more worldly-wise than her husband. She would be hard to fool, and Volodya decided not to try. He had to risk levelling with her. ‘A fair question,’ he said. ‘And I didn’t come all this way to deceive an old friend. I’m a major in Red Army Intelligence.’

They stared at him. The possibility must have crossed their minds already, but they were surprised by the stark admission.

‘I have something I need to say to you,’ Volodya went on. ‘Something hugely important. Is there somewhere we can go to talk privately?’

They both looked uncertain. Frunze said: ‘Our apartment?’

‘It has probably been bugged by the FBI.’

Frunze had some experience of clandestine work, but Alice was shocked. ‘You think so?’ she said incredulously.

‘Yes. Could we drive out of town?’

Frunze said: ‘There’s a place we go sometimes, around this time of the evening, to watch the sunset.’

‘Perfect. Go to your car, get in, and wait for me. I’ll be a minute behind you.’

Frunze paid the check and left with Alice, and Volodya followed. During the short walk he established that no one was tailing him. He reached the Plymouth and got in. They sat three across the front seat, American style. Frunze drove out of town.

They followed a dirt road to the top of a low hill. Frunze stopped the car. Volodya motioned for them all to get out, and led them a hundred yards away, just in case the car was bugged too.

They looked across the landscape of stony soil and low bushes towards the setting sun, and Volodya took step five. ‘We think the next nuclear bomb will be dropped somewhere in the Soviet Union.’

Frunze nodded. ‘God forbid, but you’re probably right.’

‘And there’s absolutely nothing we can do about it,’ Volodya went on, pressing home his point relentlessly. ‘There are no precautions we can take, no barriers we can erect, no way we can protect our people. There is no defence against the nuclear bomb – the bomb that you made, Willi.’

‘I know it,’ said Frunze miserably. Clearly he felt it would be his fault if the USSR was attacked with nuclear weapons.

Step six. ‘The only protection would be our own nuclear bomb.’

Frunze did not want to believe that. ‘It’s not a defence,’ he said.

‘But it’s a deterrent.’

‘It might be,’ he conceded.

Alice said: ‘We don’t want these bombs to spread.’

‘Nor do I,’ said Volodya. ‘But the only sure way to stop the Americans flattening Moscow the way they flattened Hiroshima is for the Soviet Union to have a nuclear bomb of its own, and threaten retaliation.’

Alice said: ‘He’s right, Willi. Hell, we all know it.’

She was the tough one, Volodya saw.

Volodya made his voice light for step seven. ‘How many bombs do the Americans have right now?’

This was a crucial moment. If Frunze answered this question he would have crossed a line. So far the conversation had been general. Now Volodya was requesting secret information.

Frunze hesitated for a long moment. Finally he glanced at Alice.

Volodya saw her give an almost imperceptible nod.

Frunze said: ‘Only one.’

Volodya concealed his triumph. Frunze had betrayed trust. It was the difficult first move. A second secret would come more easily.

Frunze added: ‘But they’ll have more soon.’

‘It’s a race, and if we lose, we die,’ Volodya said urgently. ‘We have to build at least one bomb of our own before they have enough to wipe us out.’

‘Can you do that?’

That gave Volodya the cue for step eight. ‘We need help.’

He saw Frunze’s face harden, and guessed he was remembering whatever it was that had made him refuse to co-operate with the NKVD.

Alice said to Volodya: ‘What if we say we can’t help you? That it’s too dangerous?’