Red Inferno: 1945 by Robert Conroy

about, but what on earth are two divisions? How many men are we talking about? How many lives are involved in this potential tragedy?”
    “Maybe thirty thousand, all told.”
    Natalie paled. “So many? If the Reds attack, it will not just be a slap by Stalin, will it? If he does attack them there will be a great many dead and wounded, won’t there?”
    He agreed grudgingly. How could he say otherwise?
    Natalie persisted. “Then we’ll be at war with Russia, won’t we?”
    He saw a tear roll down her cheek. He put his arm around her shoulder, and she rested her head alongside his. “Yes, Natalie, by this time tomorrow we could be at war with the Soviet Union.”

CHAPTER 5
    T he meeting in the Oval Office convened just before dawn. Truman looked alert and fresh while Stettinius and Stimson looked tired and disheveled. Marshall, of course, looked impeccable although working hard to hide his fatigue. The previous night had been long. Burke, standing behind the general, had managed to find a clean uniform and looked reasonably presentable.
    Truman looked around, glared, and began. “All right, who is this source and just how good is he? I find it rather incredible that what General Marshall describes as a mid-level functionary at the Soviet embassy would even have access to such inflammatory information as this. I also find it dubious that any other Russian in the United States would have it either.”
    If Marshall was insulted by the implied rebuke, he didn’t show it. “The question’s a plausible one, Mr. President, and I’ve been trying to find that out as well. First, I would prefer not to divulge the Russian’s name. The more who know it, the more likely the fact of his treason will get back to his masters. That’s not to imply that anyone in this room can’t be trusted, but I believe his name is irrelevant. He is, however, one of a number of field-grade Russian officers stationed at the embassy. I have been able to confirm that he has, in the past, provided our intelligence people with little nuggets of information that would indicate he is not in love with his Communist leaders.”
    “For money?” asked Truman.
    “Yes.”
    The president grabbed on to that line of thought. “Then the man could be doing this totally for reward. He could be lying through his teeth and there’s nothing we could do about it once he’s been paid.”
    Marshall answered. “He knows the rules. He hasn’t been paid for this, and won’t be unless it is proven correct. He also hasn’t asked for anything.” Truman grudgingly nodded his appreciation of the fact.
    “Yet,” said Truman, “he contacted your people and this colonel of yours was unexpectedly given the message. How did this come to pass?”
    Burke was standing along the wall and felt a number of eyes on him. Some of the most important men in the United States were looking at him. He tried to appear stoic. He made it a point to memorize everyone and everything in the room along with what was being said. He could hardly wait to tell Natalie.
    Marshall thought briefly of the grief that so often comes to the best-laid plans of men. “Sir, I found out that the Russian had contacted one of our intelligence people by telephone, probably a pay phone, and said he had information to give. In response, the Russian was told that an officer he knew would be at the embassy reception that night, and that the Russian should pass on whatever he had to that officer. At that time we had no idea of the contents of the message, or any indication from our source that it was so explosive. Our Russian played his cards very close.”
    Truman laughed harshly, shook his head in disbelief, and glanced at Burke. “So when this Colonel Burke showed up, he was presumed to be the contact since your source knew him slightly.”
    “Correct,” said Marshall. “The American officer originally designated to be the contact was delayed by car trouble. I have commended Colonel Burke for coming