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Frunze did not want to believe that. "It's not a defense," 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 cooperate with the NKVD.
Alice said to Volodya: "What if we say we can't help you? That it's too dangerous?"
Volodya followed his instinct. He held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. "I go home and report failure," he said. "I can't make you do anything you don't want to do. I wouldn't want to pressure you or coerce you in any way."
Alice said: "No threats?"
That confirmed Volodya's guess that the NKVD had tried to bully Frunze. They tried to bully everyone: it was all they knew. "I'm not even trying to persuade you," Volodya said to Frunze. "I'm laying out the facts. The rest is up to you. If you want to help, I'm here as your contact. If you see things differently, that's the end of it. You're both smart people. I couldn't fool you even if I wanted to."
Again they looked at each other. He hoped they were thinking how different he was from the last Soviet agent who had approached them.
The moment stretched out agonizingly.
It was Alice who spoke at last. "What kind of help do you need?"
That was not a yes, but it was better than rejection, and it led logically to step nine. "My wife is one of the physicists on the team," he said, hoping this would humanize him at a moment when they might be in danger of seeing him as manipulative. "She tells me there are several routes to a nuclear bomb, and we don't have time to try them all. We can save years if we know what worked for you."
"That makes sense," Willi said.
Step ten, the big one. "We have to know what type of bomb was dropped on Japan."
Frunze's expression was agonized. He looked at his wife. This time she did not give him the nod, but neither did she shake her head. She seemed as torn as he did.
Frunze sighed. "Two kinds," he said.
