 I was a communist for the FBI. Calling Dana Andrews in an exciting tale of danger and espionage. I was a communist for the FBI. Many of the incidents in the story you're about to hear are based on the actual records and authentic experiences of Matt Sevettik, who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist for the FBI. Where is our star, Dana Andrews, as Matt Sevettik? They call each other comrades. Talk a lot about the brotherhood of man. Well, you can add that one to the long list of their lives. How can a man who has no identity, no mind, or soul of his own be a comrade or a brother to anybody? I know. I was one of them. I was a communist for the FBI. In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Matt Sevettik, undercover man, who's as Matt Sevettik, FBI undercover man. This story from the confidential file is marked Bert Offering. One thing that always excited the local party members was the arrival of a visitor from Europe, any sort of an official from one of the iron-critting countries. These messengers from headquarters always demanded and got the full plus-carpet treatment with all the thinning. It was assumed, of course, that they were here for some secret purpose beside their official duties, and they usually were. Like Zubansky, the diplomatic courier from, well, let's just say, from a certain country in Europe. Zubansky had a purpose, and if necessary, he was ready to kill to carry it out. I know this is extremely sharp-notice, comrade Sevettik, but the tremendous importance of comrade Zubansky's mission fully justified. I understand, comrade Jones. I'm glad you were able to find me. What is the mission, comrade Zubansky? Question, comrade. A most remarkable attitude. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to try, but well, if I'm assigned to work on it... Your assignment is to accompany comrade Zubansky to Chicago. He's going to meet a contact there and return immediately to New York. And from there, you go on back to Europe. If you don't carry out the mission, your job is to facilitate it. I've made plane reservations. You're to be at the airport in 30 minutes. Or one more thing. You'll carry this with you, comrade Sevettik. I'm gone. This must be a big one. The biggest job we've ever done. The man you're going to contact has been in Chicago only a week. He came there from Los Alamos, New Mexico. 30 minutes. No time to discuss anything with the FBI. In fact, I didn't see how I was even going to contact them. Zubansky went to my hotel with me and stayed with me while I packed. Finally, we were ready to leave and there was no way around it. I had to take a chance. With Zubansky standing a dozen feet from me, I picked up the phone and called the FBI member. Hello, city cab company? No, this is not the... Will you hold a cab at the stand in front of the Gavin Hotel, please? A friend and I have to get to the airport right away to catch Flight 9 to Chicago. Richard? Right. It's very important that we catch that plane. Something big? Yes, yes. The Gavin Hotel. Right away. All right. We'll cover you. Thanks. Thanks a lot. The taxi will be waiting, Comrade Zubansky. Shall we go? I think that'll be all for now, boy. There you are. Thanks. What did you say is the name of this hotel, Conrad Zavedik? They handle their house. One of the best in Chicago. Yes, it is most delightful, very luxurious. Now to business. I have a telephone number here, Conrad Zavedik. I wish you to put the call through when they let me talk with the person who answers. All right. All right. Operator, will you get me? Iroquois 7349. Yes, that's all right. They're ringing now. Good. Let me have it. Hello. This is Ivan of Zubansky. You have been informed of my identity, I believe. Good. I am here now and prepared to complete the transaction at once. Number 14, cottage grove 9 to 9. Excellent. Very well. Goodbye. Conrad Zavedik, do you know the location of a place called cottage grove? Yes. As I recall it, the summer resort, 10 or 12 miles up the lake shore, probably deserted this time of year, not entirely. There will be someone waiting for us in number 14 at 9 o'clock. Would it be possible for us to obtain an order? Yes, I can rent one to the hotel. So simple? It's amazing. We will make history tonight if everything goes well. Make history? Conrad Zavedik, I have been an agent of the party for 20 years and I have never carried out an assignment even approaching this one in importance. A range for the car. An hour later we left the room and headed for the elevators. I was worried, plenty worried, because I couldn't be sure the FBI was on hand and covering me. We left the elevator and started across the hotel lobby. Then I saw him, sitting in a chair near the reservation desk, reading a paper. It was David, an agent I'd contacted before. The FBI was on the job. At the door I glanced back and saw that Davis had folded his paper and was sauntering along behind us with a parent unconcerned. A doorman pointed out the rented car and we walked over and climbed into it. Now Conrad Zavedik, let us go now, quickly. Just a second, the motor's cold. Never mind, we leave now. Alright, you're the boss. But why? I don't get it. The secret police, Conrad. You mean the FBI? Yes, the secret police. You see, there were no taxis at the door when we came out. It was better to leave quickly before one should arrive. The secret police, they would be unable to follow us. You understand, Conrad? Yeah, I understand. The timing was excellent. It worked perfectly. I'll say it worked perfectly. I caught one last glimpse of Davis in the rearview mirror. He was frantically trying to flag down a cab. And then I was on my way to meet an unknown contact with a gun in my pocket and a commie sitting beside me who turned out to be smarter than he looked. And I was out of touch with the FBI on my own. That must be number 14 there at the edge of the sand. We will soon know. Come. You will leave everything to me, Conrad Zavedik. I'll have to. I don't even know what it's all about. No matter. I do. Be on guard. Be careful. That is number 14. All right. Good. Thank you. Get your hands up. Who are you? I am Ivanov Zubansky, a friend. A friend of whom? A friend of a friend. All right. The door's unlocked. Open it and go on in. I'll be behind you. How come there's two of you? I understood you'd be alone. This is one of our American comrades, Conrad Zavedik. A U.S. commie? I told you, guys, I wanted no part of these local jerks. Mind if I say something, fella? I'm not interested in anything. Maybe you'll be interested in this. Conrad. Hacking a rod, huh? And I'll take your gun, if you don't mind. Thanks. Conrad Zavedik, I am not sure of the advisability. I know this type of comrade Zavedik. He'd keep us here arguing for half a night if we'd let him, and probably try to raise the ante. As it is, we can do business and get out. Right, pal? I still don't like it, but... Did you bring the money, Zbansky? Yes, I have it here in my dispatch case. $10,000? Correct. There you are. You may verify the amount if you wish. No. No, you wouldn't try to shave it. You're getting a bargain and you know it. Suppose we find out what we are getting. There's the money. Produce. All right, take it easy. There you are, boys. Fine. I'm not Zavedik. I'll take care of it. Sorry, I didn't mean to get out of line. Not at all. You had been most helpful. But the one important thing now is to transport this item safely to Europe. And at that, I am a past master. Shall we go? I drove back into the hotel with Zbansky holding the dispatch cases, though it was stuffed with diamonds. And there it was talking very much. I still didn't know what it was he'd bought. But it was a bound report of some sort. And the man who'd sold it had come from Los Halamos. Two good reasons why it shouldn't get out of the country. We just got inside our hotel room when the phone rang. Who's that? Well, I don't know. I'll get it. Hello? Yes, this is Mr. Slady. David's here. I see. Tell, I saw you come back. Pick up anything, a report or a film? Of course. Well, we have a plane reservation out on flight 12 in the morning, so the room will be available by 9 o'clock. All right. No trouble at all. Bye. The room clerk. They've got a convention coming in tomorrow. Wanted to know when we were leaving. Oh, yes. Is the matter of fact coming at dawn? I think we shall leave immediately. But I thought we were staying over until morning. There's hardly any point in it now. I have what I came for. It's better to get it out of the country as quickly as possible. What about this? Getting it out of the country, comrade. How are you going to get it through customs? This batch case, of course. I'm about to put the seal on it now. Diplomatic immunity. I hadn't thought of that. Comrade Svedik, I think you might be interested in seeing what a tremendous prize we have acquired tonight. I will show you just the title of the report before I seal it up. Look. There aghast. Watching him put the customs immunity seal on the case. Realizing the full meaning of the title on the front of the bound pages. Get read. Quarterly progress report. Secret weapons. Anna Andrews, starring as Matt Svedik. And I was a communist for the FBI. And the second act of our story. Once again, the timing was against me. Zabonski's sudden decision to leave immediately put me out of touch with the FBI again. And that diplomatic immunity seal was another problem. A problem even for the FBI. I didn't dare let that report leave the country. And yet I didn't know how to prevent it. Then we boarded the airliner and took off from Chicago. According to this schedule, we will arrive in New York at 6.40. And at 8.10 I catch a transatlantic plane to Europe. Excellent. Yes, the timing seems to be with you all right. Because the times are with us comrades Svedik. The march of history. Hey, better go kind of easy on this comrade stuff. Do you want the secret police on our necks? Oh, who I forgot. It is well that you accompanied me. Who knows what errors I should have made. Glad to do it. It's all for the cause, you know. Always before I have come only to New York or Washington and I've seen no one outside our own embassy. I know very little of your customs. Yes, I began to realize that Mr. Zabonski. Well, when you're in doubt just follow my lead. Mr. Svedik, that's the idea. Oh, stewardess. Yes, sir. What can I do for you? I wonder if I could have something to eat. Certainly. Would you like something, sir? Well, I don't. You might as well. It's on the house. Bring us both a snack. Yes, sir. I'll bring it right away. Such luxury, such service. You said it. By the way, I guess I'd better send a radiogram to the chairman and tell him everything went off all right. Well, wait a minute. Why, Mr. Svedik? Those were my instructions. Oh, I understand. You can send the message from the plane? Yes. Another one of those luxuries. But isn't there danger of it being intercepted by the secret police? Wouldn't do them any good. I use a code of my own. See, now, let him know we got the item. You're hurrying on to Europe. And I'll be there by noon today. I guess I did. There. Think the secret police could make anything out of that? Hmm. Save fly, boy. This all the same upstairs drawer. Keep mum. Your truly long side wrong G. G. Up front, sing plenty. Hear no can. You'll fix him. Nixon tipple. Let's see. A remarkable code. Yes, isn't it? Here's your food, gentlemen. Thanks. Stewardess, would you mind giving this radiogram to the pilot? Well, I... Just give it to him, please. He'll take care of it. I'll be glad to. Thanks. I sat there eating and listened to Zabanski congratulating himself on the great job he'd done. And then what I'd been waiting for happened. The stewardess came back from the pilot's compartment. Sir, the pilot can't make out some of the words in your radiogram. He wonders if you'd come up and explain them. Yes, I'll be happy to. I'll be right back, Mr. Zabanski. A minute later, I was back in my seat again, and the pilot was trying to make radio contact with the FBI in New York. Flight 17, New York to Gander, German and London. I believe the immigration office is over this way, Mr. Zabanski. Yes, right ahead there. It is such a nuisance to require a foreign diplomat to check through immigration. It is always a mere matter of routine clearance. Well, it won't be long now. You'll be in the air and safely on your way to Europe. Quite so. And with the satisfaction of having completed a highly successful mission. Here we are. Can I help you, gentlemen? I am Ivan Zabanski, my passport. Ah, yes, Ivan Zabanski, government courier. It is a diplomatic passport, you may notice. Yes, I see it is, Mr. Zabanski. I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to step inside. Step inside? Thanks. What is this? A slider of regularity. I'm sure we can clear it up in no time. This way, please. You too, sir, if you don't mind. What is the meaning of this? I don't know, but I'm afraid we'll have to go along with it for the time being. Come on. This way, gentlemen. My government will hear of this. I hope you know what you're doing, Chum. This is the next thing to an out-and-out insult to the official representative of a friendly foreign power. I'm sure it can all be straightened out, sir. Through here, please. Hey, so what's the idea? This is the detention section, the cell block. It's quite all right, sir. There's nothing to be concerned about. Here we are, gentlemen. Inside, please. A cell. A prison cell. Nothing of the sort. There's some slight question of regularity in Mr. Zabanski's passport, and we'd like a half hour or so to check it. That's all. But he's a foreign diplomat. I'm aware of that, sir. Well, maybe we'd better make you a superior's aware of it. I'm carrying out their orders. My dispatch case. That is your objective. You are going to take it and break the seal. Please, Mr. Zabanski. You may keep the case here with you if you like. What are we going to do, Mr. Silver? I don't think we have much choice at the moment, at least. Come on. Thank you for your cooperation, gentlemen. Far so good. The pilot had evidently got my message through, and the FBI had decided to go along with my plan. I'd ask them to detain us for half an hour and leave us in a cell together. The rest was up to me. The problem? Block off that report. Without getting the State Department involved and without arousing Zabanski's suspicions, quite a problem. What is taking them so long? Why doesn't he come back? Easy, comrade. He's only been gone five minutes. Somehow they have found out comrats of edict. It's impossible. How could they? I have been thinking that man who sold us the reports, a traitor and a criminal, perhaps he sells to both sides. Yes. It's possible, of course. Not this spatch case of yours. If they do open it and find that report... They will open it. Of course they will. That official didn't even deny his intention when you accused him. It's possible. They may be trying to get authorization from higher up. And they will come for it at any moment. What can we do? If we could only get rid of that report. Without that for evidence, they wouldn't dare hold you. If we could only dispose of it some way. Sure. But it's a little hard to dispose of anything when you're locked up in a cell. Like a cigarette? No, thank you. Ah, that is it. The cigarettes. You have matches, of course. Yeah, well, I get it. It's in the report, right here on the floor. Exactly. We must hurry before they come for it. Where are the matches? Here. Let's tear the thing in a shred so it'll burn in a hurry. Otherwise they may smell the smoke and get here before it's destroyed. Ah, it's a very shrewd idea. If I get out of this, rest assured that I shall commend your assistance highly to your self-chairman. And you're coming? Well, too generous. Well, that ought to do it. Here goes nothing. Good, good. It is flaring up very quickly. It would all be burned within a matter of seconds. A $10,000 blade and an even greater loss to the party. We had the plans of secret weapons right in our hands, Comrade Tsubaki. Comrade, there was no way to save it under the circumstances we are fortunate to have saved our lives. Here, what's running in here? Just a minute, Comrade. And as he do for a surprise... Good Lord! What are you burning here? Private diplomatic papers to which I have no further use. I'd say you're wasting your time, pal. There's nothing left but embers. Why did you do this? Why did you burn these papers? They purely personal matter. What about Mr. Zabanski's passport? Did you get that irregularity cleared up? Here is the passport. It's been cleared. You take it as stamped. I am free then to take the plane to Europe. I have no reason to detain you further. Not now, huh? As for you, however, my superior is waiting down all to ask you a few questions. Glad to oblige, I always... Hey, look at the time. What? You've got just three minutes to get aboard that plane, Mr. Zabanski. Get out before they change their mind. Yes, yes, I understand. I go quickly. I will communicate with you in the very near future. Fine. Good luck, Zabanski. Nice going, sir. Thanks. You put on a pretty good act yourself. I don't exactly know who you are or entirely what this is about. But there's a man down the hall who does. I must say, though, you made a fine mess of the four of one of my security units. Yeah, but it was a fortunate mess. Plenty fortunate. There you are. Come on in, Matt. Oh, Davis. A little bit an hour behind here. But I guess there's nothing much left for me to do, but also congratulations and say that we're... Wait, hold on a second. I just wanted to enjoy that sound. That was Zabanski's plane taking off. That was that. Davis traced a spy from his fingerprints on the gun I took from him and picked him up in Chicago a week later. But that was later. There in the immigration office, I shook hands with Davis and he left to catch a taxi to his apartment and his wife and kids. I walked down the long corridor toward the terminal, heading to the ticket windows, heading back to my hometown cell and the same dangerous double life. I wondered for an instant how it would be to have a wife and kids to go home to. And then I killed the thought. I couldn't afford to have thoughts like that. I'm a communist for the FBI. I walk alone. Dana Andrews.