 I was a communist for the FBI. Starring Dana Andrews and an exciting tale of danger and espionage. I was a communist for the FBI. You are about to hear a strange story. Names, dates, and places are, for obvious reasons, fictional. But many of these incidents are based on the actual experiences of Matt Sauvettik, who for nine fantastic years live as a communist for the FBI. Here is our star, Dana Andrews, as Matt Sauvettik. Nine years is a long time to endure the hatred and contempt of your loyal fellow Americans. But that was part of my job when I agreed to become a communist for the FBI. And I don't regret it if anything I did was instrumental in helping defeat the grinning rottenness of communism. If you think my words are a little strong, mister, listen to this story, another story of communism. In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Matt Sauvettik, under cover man. Andrews as Matt Sauvettik, under cover man. This story from the confidential file is marked, the party got rough. There was something about this man, Brown, that fell trouble to me and for me. He followed me into a dingy little upstate hash house and planted himself on a stool next to me. Instinctively, I knew that he was a party goon and that he was looking for me. And I was afraid, afraid that the Reds had finally discovered my double life. I was reaching for the menu and he jilted my arm and said, That can wait. Follow me outside, comrade. He didn't even look back because he knew what I'd do. I followed him to the street. Comrade Sauvettik? Yes? I'm comrade Brown. I got orders to return you to comrade Martin. Orders to return you to comrade Martin, my cell leader. Previously, I tried to think of an excuse for not returning with comrade Brown. An excuse Martin would accept, but I couldn't take of any. So finally, lamely, I suggested that Brown return to Martin and report that I was finishing my assignment and would follow him on the next train. My orders to return you, comrade Sauvettik, not to carry excuses. And my assignment is to establish several contacts, comrade Brown. Two remain to be made and I'm not in the habit of leaving party assignments uncompleted. All right. We'll make the contacts. You know that isn't permitted. I'll make the contacts and meet you later. How much later? Well, an hour at the bus station. Don't keep me waiting. I wouldn't want to be forced to report that you delayed our return unnecessarily. I wasted ten minutes making certain that comrade Brown wasn't following me. Then I tried to contact the FBI, but a local storm had disrupted the telephone lines. I tried again after completing my party business, but the lines were still out. So I met Brown at the bus station and we rode back to the city and cell leader Martin's house. It was a noisy house when comrade Brown and I walked through the door. But when we entered the room with the group, the chatter stopped abruptly. And in my state of mind, the quiet was commonest. You kept us waiting, comrades. I presume you have a reasonable explanation. Comrade Sauvettik refused to return immediately, comrade Martin. But you have to say that, comrade Sauvettik. You gave me a list of comrades to check. When comrade Brown arrived, I still had two contacts to make. As soon as I'd completed the assignment you gave me, we returned. I see. That probably explains it. Explains what, comrade? Why the party leaders have chosen you for a mission of utmost importance. I'm afraid I don't follow you, comrade. The party is conferring a great honor upon you, comrade Sauvettik. Obviously, because of your unflinching devotion. You're unquestioning fulfillment of any assignment. You're being rewarded through participation in this one. What is the assignment? I don't know. I was told only that I was to send you to party headquarters in New York. I was to board a train for New York at 1123. So I left Sir Leader Martin's house at 1015 to pick up some gear at my rooming house. To avoid attracting possible attention at that time of night, I was allowed to go alone. So I was finally able to contact the FBI. This is your phone booth, man Randall. Where have you been? Upstate. I was strictly routine until I was called off the assignment. Brought back here and ordered to report in New York. What's up? I don't know. They may be setting me up. My train leaves at 1123 and no one's going to the station with me. They may be establishing alibis. Your train leaves at 1123? Yes. I'll be at the station in about 20 minutes as soon as I pick up my gear. At five minutes before train time at 1118, stand under the big station clock holding your hat in your left hand. Look there and travel you to New York. I'll feel a lot better. So will we. Oh, if there's some reason I decide against an open contact under the clock, don't worry, I'll pick you up on the train. Thanks. Goodbye. After gathering my gear, I went to the station and stood under the clock, thrilling my hat in my left hand. But no one attempted to contact me. Finally, after the trainman's warning calls of all aboard, I sprinted for the moving train and swung onto it. I gave my ticket to the conductor and was settling down to a little rest. When I was contacted, I didn't know Randall, but I'd noticed this man watching me as he made his way up the aisle of the swaying train. So I wasn't surprised when timing his lurch to the movement of the car, he stumbled against me and muttered, club car. Straightening up, he resumed his course toward the back of the train and after a decent interval, I followed him. He was waiting in the club car when I arrived and I took a seat deciding. You can call me Hartman. Okay, you can call me Red. Red? You got a nice sense of humor. Thanks. You catch on quickly, too. I was expecting you. Me? Not you personally, perhaps, but I was expecting a contact. Oh. Do you have any ideas to what this assignment may be? No, none. I'm just worried. Sounds important. Yeah. You don't seem very enthusiastic. What's bothering you? That man halfway down the car on the other side. We're in a light gray suit? Yes. He's been watching us closely ever since I sat down. I don't like that. I've been expecting something of a sort. Ever since I got this assignment thrown at me. You think he's after you? I'm almost positive. In that case, I better be gone. You're not going to help me? This assignment is more important than the individual, Comrade. Comrade? Did you say Comrade? Sorry. I know it's against orders. It just slipped out. You better go. All right. I'm going to take the bull by the horns and sit down beside that guy who's been watching us. If he is an FBI agent, I'll find it out. All right. I'll see you later. Four minutes after Hartman left the club car, I sat in my chair bathed in a cold sweat. I had mistaken a party member for my expected FBI contact. In my mind, I tried to recall every word that Hartman and I had spoken, but I was too shaken to think clearly. I knew only that men had died painfully for making smaller mistakes. Rising to my feet, I walked half the length of the club car and took a seat beside the man in the light gray suit. He identified himself as Randall, my FBI contact, with his first sentence. What time did the big clock say? 11.18. Sorry I didn't get a chance to speak to you on the station. Not half as sorry as I am. I had to make certain you weren't being tailed. I don't believe I was then, but I am now. What? That guy who was sitting with me, he's a party member. I got a good look at him. And he got a good look at you. I pointed you out to him. Why? I thought he was FBI. And that you were a party-hanted man. Oh no. Oh yes. He didn't give me an identification phrase, bumped into me in my regular seat. I'm not a club car. I thought it was you. Did you give yourself away? I don't know. I don't think so. I just don't know. And why did you come over here and sit by me? Don't you think you'll be watching? I hope he is. I tried to cover myself by saying that I'd sit down beside you and find out whether or not you were FBI. What are you going to report? That you are. My only chance to regain the comrades' confidence. Yeah. Well, that case, I won't be able to give you any protection. Oh no. I'm on my own. Until you get to New York, I'll slip off the train to the first stop and phone a head in a new mail, pick you up and you'll reach the city. If I reach it? Well, don't take any chances. And be particularly careful when you're passing through the car vestibules going back to your seat. A man isn't expecting it. It's easy to push him through an open door at this speed. Yeah. I'll be careful. Yeah. Did this other guy have any word about your assignment? No. It's either a really important project or they're setting me up to knock me off. Well, good luck. Yeah. If the new man you put on me in New York gets a chance to make the contact, tell him to identify himself to me the same way you did. I'll give him the same answer. I sat in the club car until the FBI man had left his coach at the rear of the train. Then after we'd rattle across a bridge, I got up and started forward toward my regular seat. I'd passed through two coaches and had just stepped into the vestibule of the third, deep in thought. Subconsciously, I realized that the track side door was swung open and a man was standing in the shadows beside it. It was Comrade Hartman and he was beckoning me to him. For one panicky moment, my impulse was to turn and run. But before I could do so, he'd taken a step toward me and placed his hand on my shoulder. Was he an FBI agent then? Yeah. At least I think so. All right, then stand on the other side of the vestibule. When he walked through, lurch against him and nudged him over here to me. I'll take it from there. He won't be walking through, Hartman. Why not? His coach was at the other end of the train. When we passed over that bridge, I made certain that we won't be seeing him again. Good work. Thanks. You sure he's dead? I didn't watch him die. That's what you mean. But I'm quite sure he won't bother us again. Good. Now I can shut this door. We can go back to our seats and get some peaceful sleep. Hartman may have slept well, but I didn't. I forgot all that, however, when Hartman, another comrade named Franco, and I assembled at party headquarters and learned of our assignment. Comrade Rogers, a member of the Central Committee, explained our mission to us. In selecting you three comrades for this glorious mission, the party is bestowing upon you a great honor. Is it so? Very important, Comrade Rogers? It is extremely important, Comrade Stettich. If you are successful, you will strike a seriously damaging blow against the warmongering western powers. In fact, the damage may well be irreparable. Rosamund Bay, prime minister of an oil-wealthy country in the Near East, arrives in New York this week. He is coming to negotiate an important trade agreement with the American government. Your mission is to prevent his securing that agreement. How, Comrade? We have a plan, Comrade Hartman. If you three can implement the plan successfully, Rosamund Bay will return to his country, hating the west and without the agreement. If we cannot implement the plan successfully, Comrade Rogers? In that case, Comrade Stettich, you will make certain that Rosamund Bay does not leave this country alive. Now back to Dana Andrew, starring as Matt Sevettik. An eye was a communist for the FBI and the second act of our story. The mission for which the party had brought me to New York was important enough to thrill any communist fanatic, entailing, as it did, the effecting of an irreparable breach between the western powers and a small but oil-wealthy country in the Near East. And the party's plan for accomplishing this was beautifully simple, unless the FBI could frustrate it. It looked as though that might be possible too when Comrade Rogers ordered me to head the project. Within the framework of the plan, Comrade Stettich, you are free to handle this matter in any way you choose. There are no strings attached, Comrade Rogers? Only one. You must not fail. You must send Rosamund Bay back to his homeland empty-handed or dead. I understand. Good. You will start immediately. But can I have an hour to think this through and work out the details of your general plan? Certainly. I'll find an office for you where you can work undisturbed. I'd rather go for a walk if you have no objections. I think better on my feet. Oh. I can think of no objections, Comrade Stettich. Just make certain that you're back in an hour. As I walked out of the building that houses party headquarters, I stopped beside the entranceway and took plenty of time to light a smoke, a time-consuming gesture that gave any FBI man who might be waiting a chance to locate me and follow me for a pickup. A few moments later, I walked slowly down the street. I'd gone three blocks and was standing at a crossing waiting for the traffic lights to change when a cab edged up to me and the driver said, What time did the big clock say? 11.18. Hop in. The lights are changing. You were in there so long we were beginning to worry. We? There are a couple of others for protection. It doesn't look as though I'll need it now. I've just been put in charge of an important assignment. What is it? To force Rasmund Bay to return to his country without a trade agreement and hating Americans. Or to kill him. And you are in charge? Right now I'm supposed to be formulating my plan. How long can you stall? I was given an hour. The Bureau will need more time on that. They'll have it. I'm going to suggest that the first thing we do is circulate petitions. They take time. What sort of petitions? Demanding that our government refuse to consider any trade agreements in that area. Will the Reds buy that? I think there's a good chance. They take a perverse pleasure in using the Constitution to defeat itself. And the Constitution guarantees the right to petition. Well, try it. Try anything that'll take time. Without putting your neck out too far. I'll drop you at this next light. If there's the slightest change in your situation, get to a phone booth and call the Bureau. If there's someone with you so you can't talk, ask for Mr. Kroener. We'll know what you mean and get back to you. Some way. At party headquarters, my plan to circulate petitions was accepted as a starting point for the operation against Rasmund Bay. Comrade Rogers also had a suggestion to make. That's an excellent front for our activity, Comrade Svedig, but there isn't time enough for petitions alone to be effective. You must urge these people to meet Bay's plane when it lands. They're not up to make a great show of hate. But they won't need to. We'll have a crowd of party and front members there to finish the violence. Your suckers will give it a cloak of respectability. I see. And if some of the petitions get hurt, so much the better. Exactly. Before you leave, we'll give you identification that establishes your connection with businesses that would be affected by a trade agreement. If there's any official curiosity, you're simply acting as interested individuals. Any questions? What approach should we use? The obvious one, this trade agreement will permit the entry of cheap goods and put Americans out of work. While you're handling that, we'll be organizing the party workers and the various front organizations into the biggest demonstration New York has ever seen. Now, work fast. Probably no people in the history of the world have been as generous as we, but we hate to be played for suckers. And that was the Red's propaganda line for this attack. The results were frightening. We should let in their goods we don't need and put Americans like you out of work. If my congressman likes his job, it better not happen. Why should we give them prosperity and make a depression for ourselves? I say let's meet this Rasmund Bey when he lands and tell him to go home. As ward committeemen and businessmen, I want to thank you young man for the unselfish service you're doing the taxpayers of this country. Our wire, our congressional representatives, advising them that the voters in this district refuse to endorse any such trade agreement. But I'll organize a delegation to meet this... Now, whatever his name is, tell him to go back where he came from. Directed by propaganda, ignorance and misguided self-interest can be played right into the party's hands. At the Idlewild International Airport, surrounded by goons and agitators, these normally reasonable and good-hearted people would become part of an angry mob. A mob capable of driving Bey and his countrymen in their vital oil reserves right into the Russian camp. I reported the situation to the FBI. They had an answer. We'll contact Bey's plane and have it landed Washington D.C. instead of at Idlewild. I'll get back on the job and check with us in the morning. When I did check the next morning, the news was bad. Well, our plan didn't work and we're stuck. What happened? The old man's ill. This personal physician who's aboard the plane with him has countermanded our instruction. The plane with Bey aboard will land at Idlewild. Proceed to the airport as planned. You'll be contacted there. That was a real slap in the face, but a worse one hit me at the airport. A wild, shouting mob of reds and their dupes were waiting for Bey, and Franco and Hartman were waiting for me. They'd come directly from party headquarters with new and frightening orders. We have new instructions for you, Comrade Svedik. Yes, Comrade Hartman? Words been received from Washington that no demonstration can affect relations between the Western powers and Bey. It's already been promised a trade agreement. You have your gun? I was given one this morning. Good. You'll have a chance to use it. I'm not a very good shot. All right, then you'll have to get closer to the target than Comrade Franco and I. We three have been ordered to eliminate Rasmund Bey. Those are the orders? Those are the orders. Now, look, if you have anything on you that might serve as identification destroy it. I have the business identification, Comrade Rogers gave us. But then go to the smoking room destroyed and dispose of it. Yes, Comrade. And hurry. We'll wait for you here. The plane is due any minute. I was practically blowing my top as I heard toward the airport waiting room to dispose of my identification. And if ever I felt the need of help from the FBI, it was right then. As I stepped into the waiting room, a man following close behind me stepped on my heels. I spun around to face him and gave a little prayer of thanks. It was my cab driving FBI contact. But the thanks was a little premature. What's up? You looked worried when your boys were talking to you. The party's had word from Washington that this demonstration will have no effect because the trade agreement is going through regardless. We've been ordered to liquidate Bey. Who's to do the shooting? All three of us from different spots in the crowd. Can't you radio the pilot of Bey's plane and warn him off? It's too late for that now. The plane's too close. We'd have to spell it out so clearly that the party would fully understand your party. Let them. Let me glad to get out. I don't blame you, Matt. But I don't have the authority to do that. Well, whatever we do, we're going to have to do it fast. There isn't much time. I'll keep your shirt on. I know how much time there is. Carson, the guy you've been talking to on the phone is due here any minute. With a new plan? I hope so. He's coming through the door now. That little guy wearing glasses. What's new, Carson? Who's your friend? He's your telephone friend. The orders are out to liquidate Bey. And then we have to move fast. Our friend in particular. What do I do? We've arranged for a decoy plane. One plane, a stand at DC-6, will land in front of the administration building. The other, which carries official markings, will land on runway 4. Now, your job is to lead those party goons to the plane with the official markings. That's the decoy. Flight 23, now landing on runway 1. Special flight landing on runway 4. Yet going, friend. Point out the official marking to your boys and head them there. Roger. Well, one thing more. Get them over there, but don't get picked up with them. Once they're on their way, get lost or something. Good luck. Thanks. I reached out of the building and ran to where Franco and Hartman were impatiently waiting. Both planes were on the ground before I could convince the commons that they were heading to the wrong one. Why should you think this is the wrong plane, Comrade Svedik? Look at the official markings on the other plane. Nothing was said about official markings. Do you want to take the responsibility of letting Bey escape? No. Then follow me to that plane and eliminate Rasmund Bey. Come on. Come on. What happened, Comrade? Oh, my ankle. It's broken. It's sprained badly. Here, I'll give you a hand. There's no time for that, Comrade. Get to the plane. But you won't be able to get away. That's my worry. Your orders are to get Rasmund Bey. He's right, Franco. Come on. What happened, Comrade Svedik? We were trapped, Comrade Rogers. Comrade Hartman insisted that Bey must be on the plane with the official markings. I tried to argue with him, but he said that he had been placed in charge of the liquidation and that he was giving the orders. And then? Running toward the plane, I fell down and sprained my ankle. As I lay there, I watched Comrade Franco and Hartman drawing their guns. I'm afraid they were overzealous. When the plane door opened, they began shooting. They didn't have a chance after that. Hartman was a fool. He paid for it. As I left party headquarters, I couldn't help thinking. That time, it was Franco and Hartman. The next time, it might very well be me. For nine long years, I shunned all companions, sharing my secrets with no one. Because in the party, someone is always paying the price for misplaced confidence. That's why, by day or night, I choose to walk alone. Dana Andrews will return in just a moment. This is Dana Andrews reminding you that Abraham Lincoln warned us, a house divided against itself cannot stand. Communism's greatest weapon has been its ability to divide its opponents. Refuse to let anyone drive a wedge between you and your neighbor. Whether it's the man next door, or the man in some other country in the free world. Next week, we'll bring you another exciting story based on the fantastic adventures of Matt Svedic. Join us, won't you?