In 1956 as Hungarians mount their revolution against the Soviets, CIA agent Henry Caldwell is sent to Budapest to monitor activities. But when he sees Katalin, the love of his love who disappeared four years ago, he’s confused. Through the war-torn streets, Henry finds himself in a deadly game of cat-and-mouse where trust is scarce and survival uncertain.
Chapter 9
Finding a scientist, the one scientist in Hungary, that was of interest to the Soviets was like finding a needle in a haystack. As the Soviets slowly clamped down on the revolution, I received word that Americans, like me, would be receiving less invitations to embassy events, and travel of U. S. citizens to Hungary was also being restricted because the Soviets didn’t want Hungarians learning about life and culture in America, nor give the impression that America continued to have an interest in Hungarians’ welfare.
When I passed this information on to my Reuters editors in London, they cabled back: “You should record whatever you see and hear, whether you like it or not.”
I returned to the Cinema to consult with Zsolt. Perhaps he could guide me on where and how to begin my search.
Along the way, I passed the spoils of the revolution: a side entrance to a private residence revealed rubble of bricks and plaster strewn about as if an avalanche had started inside and spilled into the street; at City Hall, Freedom Fighters improvised an unsteady ladder of chairs and tables to reach the portrait of Lenin which hung high on a wall. The painting was removed with disdain; disabled Russian tanks sat like dead elephants in the middle of wide boulevards. Farther on, a group of revolutionaries ransacked the Horizon, a Soviet bookstore. They hauled out armloads of books and portraits of communist leaders and burned them in the street. A look of satisfaction rested on the eyes of every man who played his part to dismantle the communist regime.
When I found Zsolt in his second-floor makeshift office, he looked dismayed.
“How goes the effort, my friend?” I said.
He sighed and lit a cigarette. “We win battles, here and there. These small victories give momentary hope to my friends and to everyone in the streets fighting against the Soviets. But I’m afraid these victories are not enough.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, my sources tell me, the Soviets may pull back. Your Freedom Fighters are embarrassing the Red Army.”
He scoffed. “I wish that were the case. While our fight is just and we must continue, I am skeptical for a long-term result. Only a fool would believe we are winning.”
I allowed him to wax with the idea of defeat for a few minutes and tried my best to buck him up. Then, as if, he’d stuck his finger in a light socket, he lit up. His expression changed and he smiled. “Let’s have a coffee.”
A small pot boiled on a hot plate. He poured two stout cups of brown liquid in chipped pieces of china. I must have winced on the first sip because Zsolt laughed at me. “This will make hair for your chest.”
“How old is this coffee?”
“Two, maybe three days. We can’t be choosy, now. I am sure you understand.”
“I understand, Zsolt, but my tongue wants to disown me.”
“What? Too strong? You Americans.”
“No, not too strong. Too bad. You could use this to fuel your car.”
He reached into his desk drawer and placed a flask on top. “Peach brandy will smooth out wrinkles.” He poured liberally but it still wasn’t enough to override the bitter taste of shoe leather and notes of used rags that defined his coffee. I pushed my cup aside.
“Say, Zsolt. I need your help, on two things—”
“Two things? I can barely hold one thought in my head at a time.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I need to find Katalin Vadas, she works for the embassy. I haven’t seen her for a couple of days—”
“Have you asked the embassy?”
“Yes. They haven’t seen her. Everyone there is worried about her.”
Well, if you find her, tell me where she lives. I’ll make a personal visit.”
“You like Katalin?”
“Who doesn’t. She’s connected. She’s intelligent. And she’s beautiful. A triple threat, is that how you say it?”
“Yes, definitely a triple threat. Do you know where I can find her?”
“I will ask around. Come back and see me tomorrow. But if I find her first, I marry her. You can be best man, okay? What’s second thing?”
I ignored his matrimonial urges. “There are rumors the Soviets are hunting for a Hungarian scientist and may kidnap him to Moscow. I need to know who that is?”
“And, if I may ask, why this scientist is so important?”
“I don’t know that either. But I do know the Americans and the British would like to sneak him out of Hungary before the Soviets do.”
“Oh, now this is serious business, my friend.”
“I think everything is serious business here under these circumstances.”
“Good point. I know of no scientist that is so popular but I will ask. Again, come see me tomorrow. I make fresh coffee then.
“Gawd. I hope so, Zsolt.”
I returned to the streets of Budapest and walked aimlessly in no direction hoping that sheer luck might lead me to Kat. Ahead of me, a black car caught my eye. It raced up to a curb in front of a burned-out church. Exiting the church’s front steps as if on the run, I saw Kat holding an older gentleman’s hand, encouraging him to hurry down the stairs. They jumped into the car and as it roared past, I caught a glimpse of Kat staring at me out her window. Her smile was faint as the fading revolution.
Very well written. Your imagery is good, I felt like I was there.
The description of the coffee was so good. I could almost taste it, blech.
Dead elephant tanks...great image.