Operation Apocrita
Operation Apocrita
A fictionalised alternative to the infamous 1960 U2 flight over the USSR. This is NOT a true story - as far as we know...
I wrote this short story in response to prompts from a short story contest to which I then never submitted. I came up with two versions of the story, both based around Gary Powers’ ill fated May 1st 1960 flight over Russia and this is one view that I took.
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OPERATION APOCRITA
Eisenhower was not happy. The spooks were running their own game again and this one could turn into a real shit show blowing to hell any chances he had of re-election and possibly starting World War 3.
The problem was the Intelligence. Or in spook talk ‘Our interpretation of the available Intelligence Mr President which would seem to indicate an entirely new type of weapon. Something we are referring to as WMN or Weapons of Modified Nature sir” Blue eyed CIA Assistant Director, (Soviet Desk) Norman Krantz with his buzz cut, square jaw and sweating forehead was not painting a picture but relaying facts. “What we know now, Mr President, sir and have received reliable verification from the Brits about, would suggest that the reasons the Russians have not put bombers at the Kotlas airbase is because of their work on WMN”
The President could see Krantz’s cigarette burning itself out in the glass ashtray. He wondered what would happen if the burn got all the way to the filter. Would the Winston tip up and spread ash over the dark green ‘TOP SECRET’ stamped folder that sat next to it on the huge dark coffin shaped conference table and set fire to the White House Cabinet room? Krantz was dressed in a dark suit with a white shirt and navy tie. He had removed the jacket when he stood up to speak.
A bulky Army General, George Reeves III, who sat further down the table from the CIA man looked up and said “Krantz?” He then spent 20 seconds lighting his sewage smelling pipe while trying his hardest to stay inside the jacket that had fit him well only nine years earlier. As the viscous pipe smoke spread out from his face he scratched the inside of his hairy ear and continued “Krantz. Listen! Are you sure the Limeys have got this right? The Soviets are replacing missiles with this WMN stuff?”
“Not replacing missiles General Reeves sir. The WMN is intended to cause damage in different ways. And, General, delivery time line is expected within months - if not weeks - if our ally’s intelligence is to believed which we feel it very much should be sir.”
This set the table buzzing. Twenty white men some in suits, and others in various shades of military uniform reached for cigarettes, cigars and pipes. Green, buff and red folders were opened, their papers were shuffled and all eyes were turned towards the President as each man tried to guess what Eisenhower would say in order to be ready with the strongest possible agreement and support for the Commander In Chief’s point of view.
Eisenhower knew a thing or two about directing military operations and, as a five star general, it was difficult to bullshit him on affairs of war. This was different though. This was not tens of thousands of men, millions of dollars of equipment and a clear area of land to take back. This was a potential threat that would be undetectable until it started attacking and spreading panic in cities full of people. There would be no missiles, no planes and not even a shot fired but millions would be affected if this damn Soviet WMN program ever got going.
On the other hand, Eisenhower also knew that this meeting could soon develop into a pitch for funds with the spies talking about dangerous programs, and the military lapping it up (despite their attempts to look aggrieved) and everyone needing more resources to counter this new existential threat. Somewhere along the line somebody and their uncle was going to make a buck out of this.
The President gave a gentle cough into the smoke that had spread to fill every available cubic inch of the room. He had quit his four packs a day habit in ’48 but today he was smoking for free.
“Gentlemen.”
Silence descended.
“This is a pretty poor way to spend an afternoon especially on such a beautiful day for golfing. But I want to hear more about this WMN program and I have to admit that I don’t like the sound of it one little bit. Director Dulles, do the Soviets have a name for this program?”
Dulles stole a glance at Krantz raising his eyebrows to encourage his Assistant to help him.
“Mr President we are aware of nomenclature and at this moment it might be opportune to introduce our allied partner Mr Martin Brown”
A thinner, and more clipped voice rose out of the table hugging nicotine cloud. The accent was British and precise without the time to be plummy.
“Thank you Director Dulles, Mr President sir, and Gentlemen if I may introduce myself”
The President nodded indicating that the man should continue.
“Martin Brown Mr President, Cultural and Military Attaché British Embassy Washington sir. Present today merely in the role of an observer at the request of Assistant Director Krantz.”
The two men acknowledged each other before Brown reached into his grey jacket pocket and retrieved a packet of Senior Service cigarettes and a gold lighter and placed them on the table in from of him - the lighter on top of the cigarette pack. The Englishman then reached down for his dark brown leather briefcase, lifted it onto his lap and snapped open the brass locks. He pulled out a manila folder with ‘Top Secret’ stamped in red across it and laid it down closed on the table. He then placed the briefcase back on the floor. Twenty pairs of eyes strained to develop x-ray vision.
General (USAF) Thomas Alvin Masters waved for one of the less senior men to bring him a light for his cigar. Masters was suspicious of the Brits after his daughter had married one just after the war.
“Mr President, Director, Gentlemen. One of our female operatives, Codename Shalford, who is based in a European capital recently persuaded a Russian airforce Major who had been stationed at the Kotlas airbase to share some interesting information. Comrade Major informed Agent Shalford that Operation Apocrita is very much underway and in fact underground.” Brown opened his folder and removed three documents from it which he placed on the table. The first was a standard defector form showing a mug shot type photo of the Major along with details such as his age, experience and family situation. The Major (who was now living in some comfort in a undisclosed but very pleasant English location) had provided verbal and written information, “verified against facts confirmed with certain local contacts” assured Brown, that Comrade Khrushchev has been digging a mine “so large that it has become nothing short of an underground city. This is where the WMN program is being developed”
The second document was marked “Eyes Only” and showed a list in Russian of twelve items. Next to each item was a handwritten English translation each indicating the name of an underground railway station in New York, Paris, London and other cities around the world. No explanation was necessary.
Brown laid down the third document which was a folded A1 sheet in the middle of the table. He opened it up one fold at a time. He explained that it was a diagram of the Kotlas airbase runway with various routes criss-crossing it and eight large circles running down each side - four to the North and four to the South.
“This plan” Brown explained was brought out by our defecting Major and shows the scale of the WMN plan. “We see the main runway on a NorthWest/South East axis and the tracks we see running across it are in fact underground tunnels while the eight large circles we see are, apparently, air vents to keep Project Apocrita ventilated, “ Brown had everyone’s full attention and continued “As of this morning, UK time, it has not been possible to get an agent near to the airfield as the Soviets have effectively closed off a five mile radius around the site with an influx of men and vehicles. Our estimate is around two thousand troops mobilised to secure the area.”
Krantz and Dulles nodded along to this explanation both happy to let the Brit explain and own the problem - they would be providing the solution. Brown was on the final stretch.
“According to our man, the mining has been so intense and so poorly managed that the runway at Kotlas is considerably weakened and it is no longer safe to land heavy bombers at the airfield. The part we are missing is verifiable imagery”
“Which Mr President,” Krantz was aware that he was appearing over eager and took a breath to slow down and lower his pitch “Which Mr President is why we are proposing a U2 flight over the area.”
“This is your fancy spy plane Krantz is it?” Asked General Masters.
“Reconnaissance aircraft.” corrected Director Dulles. The CIA had taken over the U2 project after the air force turned it down and now it was reaping rewards.
“Indeed.” agreed Martin Brown.
All eyes again turned to the President, seated halfway down one side of the table facing the large net curtained windows. “What did you say this program was called again?”
Krantz jumped in, keen to bring the momentum and focus back to the home team.
“The Russians are calling it Operation Apocrita, Mr President.”
“What in heaven’s name does that mean son?” General Masters was unimpressed.
“Well this is a rather interesting point gentlemen,” Brown was in before Krantz could refer to his notes. “You see Apocrita is a sub-order of insects that includes bees, ants and wasps which are the little blighters that interest us today. It seems that, before the war, wasps were bred to keep aphids off crops but were replaced by DDT. The Russians still had some of these wasps being used which they have intensively bred and fed some kind of growth chemicals which has resulted in creatures close to 8 inches in length with a sting that could take down a horse.”
A man in a black suit with a patch over his right eye who was sat at the far left hand corner of the table spoke up. His voice still bore traces of a Germanic accent “This is entirely possible Mr President. I have heard of similar experiments in Germany in 1943. All you have to do is place an appropriately adjusted dormant wasp nest in a disused metro station and within three months there will be 5000 giant wasps swarming out and destroying entire populations. This is very good scientific work.”
“Thank you Professor Buchwald.” Krantz was well aware of the kind of experiments that Buchwald had been involved with during the war.
Eisenhower looked round the high-ceilinged room that, in reality, was nothing more than a large dining room with an oil painted portrait of Washington hung on the pale walls at one end and two dressers built into the wall behind him that contained shiny coffee pots and cups together with a random assortment of statues and ornaments that nobody ever looked at.
“Krantz, with respect, could this really happen? I know the Commies are sneaky SOBs and we don’t want to be caught out like we were with Sputnik. But if it were to get out that the Reds were breeding giant killer wasps there would be panic across the Free World. Director Dulles do we have a plan to stop this?”
Dulles had worked in the secret world for the last 20 years, building networks of spies across Europe during the war, and heading CIA covert operations before eventually being invited to head the Agency. Colleagues joked that he had taken dumps that were classified and he looked round the table as if he were connecting each man with the file he kept on them.
“Mr President we have a mission planned for one of our U2 planes that will take off from Pakistan on May 1st and fly in an arc over Eastern and Northern Russia before landing in Norway. From 70,000 feet, where there is no danger of interception, the U2 can also take photographs of Kotlas.”
General Reeves was caught between making a joke and relighting his pipe and ended up coughing out “Why can’t we just get some DDT and put it in the back of a crop duster?” Nobody laughed.
Eisenhower noticed how relaxed Martin Brown appeared to be and how, in contrast, Krantz had not stopped sweating since the meeting started. He addressed Dulles:
“Director, who’s flying this plane and do we trust him?”
“Ex-Air Force pilot Mr President. His name is Gary Powers sir and he has a heck of a lot of experience on these kinds of missions. We have a new camera as well that will give us even more clarity and we are expecting to have the photographs back here one week after the plane lands. We do not want to get caught out Mr President.”
“And if I may Mr President,” The Englishman was back “By way of further explanation we have a short film that Director Dulles and Assistant Director Krantz have already viewed. We asked our boffins at Porton Down to replicate the Russian experiments as near as they could and then explain the results.”
The intelligence operatives had clearly already prepared for this and two white coated younger men entered the cabinet room pushing a White House dessert trolley that had a film projector balanced on top.
“Didn’t know it was Show and Tell Dulles” growled Reeves. His sentiment echoed what his military colleagues were thinking as they had nothing to show and only opinions to offer.
More tobacco was lit as a temporary screen was placed in front of the Washington portrait and the lights went down.
A young man appeared on the screen. He had a dark fringe that fell onto his forehead and was wearing a white lab coat over a shirt and tie and holding a long dark cane. He introduced himself in a clear English accent as Doctor Jeffrey Bayer, a research scientist with the Ministry of Defence at Porton Down. The military men present all knew that Porton Down was where the Brit’s secretly developed chemical and biological weapons 80 miles outside London. It was not a place most people wanted to visit.
Doctor Bayer indicated a large diagram on an easel next to him which showed a hand drawn image of a wasp in biological close up. He explained how his team had studied the Russian documentation brought out by the British spy and had worked on replicating the work done by the Soviets. According to the Doctor the British had been able in a short time to breed a wasp that had grown to 4 inches in length - which he clarified in a sterner tone was four to eight times the length of the common wasp. This larger wasp had not lived long but when examined post mortem it was found to contain nearly one hundred times the venom capability of a normal wasp. The scientist then showed how ever larger doses of venom affected different animals and how wasps this size could easily kill or seriously incapacitate people. Doctor Bayer then showed a terrifying table of the estimated deaths at specific locations should a killer wasp nest be placed there and then also provided information on serious injuries that would occur to those not killed.
He finished his presentation by confirming that his team had indeed tried injecting larger amounts of this wasp’s venom into human volunteers and the results were “in a manner of speaking, highly prejudicial for the subject.” And with that the film ended, the lights came up and the trolley containing the projector was wheeled out to be returned to the dining team.
“Jesus Christ” Masters the Air Force General could no longer contain himself “Mr Brown are you fellas killing each other already with this stuff? Director Dulles please do not think for one second that we will be shipping American airmen across to England be stung to death by these killer critters” He was impressed with his own use of alliteration “We need to get this plane up and get this site stopped.”
“Without starting World War Three General.” Eisenhower reminded the General that he would not be able to send bombers in to destroy a Soviet airbase. “We need to get our fellas working on a plan to keep wasps out of the subway without having to spray whole cities with DDT. Director Dulles please ensure that we get this plane up on May 1st and I am sure that Mr Powers is aware of the importance of his mission. Mr Brown we appreciate your country’s openness in this situation and we will share with you any information that we can.” The President was not going to promise to share everything as he knew that the Americans were sending the plane over Russia to look for bombers and missiles and this cockamamie wasp project was in an area that they would pass over anyway.
However, the more he thought about it the more Eisenhower couldn’t shake the feeling that Operation Apocrita was just ridiculous enough to be true. After all the Brits had already tried to use live chickens to keep landmines warm and the CIA were trying to implant microphones inside cats in order to spy on the Soviets so why not create nests full of giant killer wasps?
Eisenhower closed the meeting and asked for a progress meeting on May 2nd for the assembled group -“Including Mr Brown if you are able,” Brown agreed and thanked the President and the council for their time. Papers and folders were taken from the desk while cups, ashtrays and other detritus were left behind. The group left the Cabinet Room as one and within a few steps had already divided into the political, espionage and military groups - each one with their own view on what had happened inside.
Brown, Dulles and Krantz shook hands at the Lobby Entrance to the West Wing and went their separate ways: two black executive cars were waiting for the CIA men while Brown walked down to 17th Street where he headed north glad to feel real air on his face. He was picked up at Pennsylvania Avenue by what a spotter later described as ‘a dark coloured Buick driven by a blonde wearing sunglasses and a headscarf.’
It is not known exactly what Martin Brown and the hot blonde did in the days leading up to May 1st 1960 but what is now clear is that the woman’s name was Jean Willis. She was married to a minor member of the aristocracy who was also a name at Lloyds and took a seat in the House of Lords. Mrs Willis had been working with British Intelligence since being recruited at Cambridge and had, under the supervision of Mr Brown, run a Russian double agent who was able to defect on the strength of the information he provided about Operation Apocrita.
On May 1st 1960 a small private plane took off from Lydd Airport in Kent with a flight plan showing it heading to Le Touquet where it never arrived. The pilot’s name was listed as Squadron Leader John Harwood, formerly of the RAF and now a Military Advisor with the Foreign Office. In October 1960 Harwood was confirmed as Martin Brown. He had been spotted in Warnemunde and his appearance reported to British Intelligence by a compromised East German functionary who, during the summer of 1957, had been photographed with several young men in a Berlin hotel room and was now desperate to defect.
Jean Willis was originally thought to have been collateral damage in Brown’s plan until her name was brought up by another Russian defector and the Service put her under extended surveillance. Eventually she was arrested in Guildford, Surrey in 1963 by a team of MI5 operatives who put her in the back of a red GPO van leaving her four year old daughter, Emma, alone crying at the side of the road holding on to a pushchair.
It was never clear if Jean Willis truly knew that the Operation Apocrita documentation was false but, either way, after several days of questioning in a dark, soundproofed barn somewhere near Abergavenny she finally broke and admitted that she had been in a sexual affair with Harwood/Brown who had promised to take her with him to the East if she helped him. The Americans were never able to discover who Harwood / Brown had tricked in the CIA and remained suspicious of several people, including Krantz, whose careers were forever blemished.
Many felt that Jean Willis’ 20 year sentence after an in camera trial was harsh and with no appeal allowed she was sent to Holloway. Her actions with Harwood had led directly to the Soviets being ready for Gary Powers’ U2 flight which they successfully shot down near Kotlas. The U2 was captured with its camera almost intact and Powers was held prisoner and interrogated for over a year in a major diplomatic incident that embarrassed the Americans publicly and shamed their intelligence services privately.
Jean Willis was sprung from prison in 1968 by a helicopter which was then shot down by the RAF over the Channel. The incident was subject to a D Notice and, therefore, never reported. Her body was recovered and buried in a graveyard outside Guildford by her brother Doctor Jeffrey Bayer who also brought up her daughter, the artist, Emma Willis at his home in Shalford. Later Ms Willis also worked for the Intelligence Services and was instrumental in recruiting me into its shadowy embrace.
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