Illegal Action by Stella Rimington Read Free Book Online

were long-time intelligence officers who understood, but Signor Scusi, a young Italian army officer, new to his service, asked in broken English, “Illegals? What are they?”
    “Ah,” said Beckendorf. “For those of you new to the phenomenon, Illegals are officers of an intelligence service who live outside the embassy. They assume a false nationality and identity to cover their presence.”
    Beckendorf was warming to his theme. “The Russians long ago recognised that for the most secret work an intelligence officer under a completely false identity was much more likely to escape the attentions of the security service in the country where he was living, than an intelligence officer inside the embassy. As you all know the intelligence component of the embassy is called the ‘Legal Residency.’ So those outside it are ‘Illegals.’
    “An Illegal is supported by an officer in the embassy but he is not supposed to have any direct contact with him, except in an extreme emergency. He gets his instructions by direct communication with his controllers at home. But an Illegal is never documented as a national of the country he is infiltrating. They are carefully trained to pose as foreigners. Obviously if they wanted to infiltrate the United States, it would be far too risky for their officer to pretend to be American: such an impersonation would be virtually impossible to sustain. So instead he would present himself as something different altogether—as a Brazilian, say, who has come to live in the U.S. This ‘third nationality’ has always made Illegals extremely hard to detect. And the damage they have caused in the past has been proved to be immense.”
    “One of the most famous cases,” chipped in Peggy—in her usual thorough way she had researched the recent history of Russian espionage—“was in England. There were two spies at the Admiralty in the fifties, called Harry Houghton and Ethel Gee, and they were controlled by Colonel Molody of the KGB, who was documented as a Canadian businessman called Gordon Lonsdale.” Peggy stopped abruptly, realising that she had stolen some of Herr Beckendorf’s thunder.
    “Quite,” said Beckendorf, taking back the initiative. “Some people,” he said, making clear this did not include himself, “have gone so far as to think that this phenomenon has disappeared altogether. But they are wrong. It is with us again.”
    By now he had his audience’s full attention. Peggy herself found the history of Illegals intriguing, but it had always seemed to her just that—history. Another aspect of the Cold War passed and gone. Surprised by the dramatic start to Beckendorf’s talk, she began taking careful notes.
    “For the last three years the BfV has been keeping an eye on Igor Ivanov, an economic attaché at the Russian Embassy in Berlin. We learnt some time ago from a defector to a friendly country”—America, thought most of the delegates—“that he is an Illegal support officer. He travels frequently in Germany, which is understandable, given his official duties. What has interested us very much are his regular trips to Norway. It seemed curious. After all, there is a Russian Embassy in Oslo, with a good number of SVR officers in it.”
    “Twelve,” interjected Miss Karlsson quietly.
    “After his third trip, I asked Miss Karlsson and her colleagues if, on the next occasion Ivanov travelled to Norway, they would keep an eye on him.”
    The Norwegian woman flicked the switch on the microphone on her desk. “After arriving in Oslo, Ivanov took a train the next day to Bergen, then returned the following afternoon and went back to Germany. Six weeks later, he visited Norway again, and this time we followed him to Bergen. His anti-surveillance measures are excellent and unfortunately, once there he managed to lose our surveillance. He went to extraordinary pains to do so, though we do not think he knew we were there.”
    Beckendorf resumed. “We thought perhaps Ivanov