 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. 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 Severick, who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist for the FBI. Here is our star, Dana Andrews as Matt Severick. Comrade, it's a word that should stand for something good, but I learned to hate it as the symbol of the most vicious hypocrisy in the world. One thing I knew for sure, being a comrade was one of the most dangerous occupations in the world for a man who believed in freedom. In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Matt Severick, under cover man. This story from the confidential file is marked, The Canadian Backbone. A little after midnight, get dressed. Do you have to deliver this package to a comrade in Calgary? Calgary? Your train leaves in 20 minutes. That package must be pretty important. It is. If you fail, if anything happens to the package, well, it's nothing to what will happen to you. Well, it's nothing to what will happen to you. I was escorted by Comrade Drake to the station. In a few hours, I was crossing Victoria Jubilee Bridge in the Montreal. By morning, I was having breakfast aboard the Canadian Pacific Streamliner heading west. Sir, but may I join you? She was young, square jawed, wearing glasses and a smile like a garfish. For no apparent reason, the chill of fear iced my spine as she sat down at my table. Ask for the menu. Well, of course. Here. Thank you. I can recommend the sausage. It's deliciousness. Susan Poitier. To you, I would be just Susan. Yeah. Well, I'm Matt Severick. Matt. Susan and Matt. Oh, yes, I like that. We would make good neighbors, you and I. Neighbors? I have the compartment next to yours. We are neighbors all the way to Calgary. Oh. What makes you think I'm going to Calgary? Well, I must have heard you tell the porter. Excuse me. Oh, but Matt, you have not finished. Mystery has ruined my appetite. Mystery? Yeah. You see, Suzanne, I didn't tell the porter my destination. I didn't tell anyone. Mr. Ferguson, secret service. Hi. Nice to see you again, lad. Well, same here. You better let me see that package. You know everything, don't you? It's my business. And it's tough business this time. It's a strong box. Steel. And I don't have the key. I suspected as much. That's why I brought these tools of mine. Pick locks. You did come prepared. It's going to someone in Calgary. Who? I don't know yet. He'll identify himself to me. Money. Hey, look at the size of those bills. What a sight for an honest scot to see. Must be nearly half a million dollars. Mr. Ferguson, what's this all about? Trouble. Lots and lots of trouble. In Calgary? That's the center of it. There's been too many breakdowns and troubles of all kinds recently on the railroads and airlines there. Too many to be accidents. Call me sabotage. That's my thinking. And if I'm right, this money is intended to help the Reds enlarge their operations. Well, stopping this money will... I'm not stopping it. Huh? They'd only get more money. The Reds have other sources. You know that. Sure, but if you stop... I want the whole commie ring, Matt. Particularly the leader. I need names and proof. That's a big order. The Communist in charge will have to keep records to account for so much money. All you'll have to do is to locate those books. Me? You can do it, Matt. If I was working with them, yes, but I'm not part of the Calgary cell. I'm only a courier. When I hand over the money, they'll expect me to go home. Then I guess you should go home. Try and understand, Mr. Ferguson. If I hang around asking questions, they'll crucify me. You are right, laddie. Why, if anything happened to you, it would be on my conscience forever. Huh. What conscience? Because if you insist upon risking your neck, I cannot stop you. Try. It would do no good. You're a stubborn fool, Matt Servetik. Saying in Calgary it was going to be about as healthy as skipping rope with the rattlesnake, unless I came up with a very good reason. But two days later, as the trains iced through the great wheat fields of Saskatchewan and the endless cattle ranches of Alberta, I still didn't have an answer. Then finally we pulled into Calgary, a sprawling, oversized cow town with a bow and elbow river she can't. Journey's end for me and half a million communist dollars. This is what he is. Oh, please. It is Susan. Yes, of course. But if you'll excuse me, I was expecting someone to meet me. Susan! Oh, Susan, my pretty. Please, my little one. Oh, now, be yours, papa. Bien, bien. Ah, and, of course, this is Mr. Servetik. Permit me. I am Jack Poitier, Susan's papa. You're also psychic, it seems. Must be a Poitier family trait. First, she knows my destination and now you know my name. What kind of a crystal ball do you two use? Oh, I can explain very well. Don't forget it. I have to meet someone. May we, Mr. May we. Welcome to Calgary, copran. I think he is surprised, papa. He is indeed. Oh, here's a package come with Poitier. It must have great value for you to send your daughter to help me guard it. Oui, oui, but this value does not concern you. Uh-huh. I hope you found Susan an agreeable traveling companion. Oh, yes, yes indeed. The loveliest bodyguard I ever had. Ah, she's a very efficient worker for the party, too. Yes, I'm sure she is. Well, I wish I could remain for a visit, Susan. Now that I know you're a comrade, I'm sure I'd enjoy a last night. And why not? Susan? Oh, yes, papa. Ah, comrade Servetik, can you delay your return? Well, uh, yes. Ah, then it is settled. You will stay at our house and be our honored guest. Thank you, comrade. That means a great deal to me. Eh, perhaps to all of us. You understand. Susan is without the elsebound yet. Who knows, my son? You may be the lucky one. The Poitier House turned out to be a large break-affair near the Provincial Institute of Technology and Arts, a game equipped with a strange albino butler. But Bard, low enough to break his back, but whose pink eyes forgot to smile when I did. Oh, son, turn, please. Take Monsieur Servetik's luggage to the guest room. He is visiting us for a few days. Of course, Mr. Poitier. Shall I unpack your bags and hang things up for you, sir? Huh? Oh, no, I can do it. Oh, it's no trouble at all, sir. Mr. Poitier. Yes? Your associates are waiting for you and Mrs. Anne in the library. Oh, uh, Monsieur Servetik, perhaps you'd better let Thorpe to show you to your room now? Oh, certainly. I'd like to freshen up a bit. This way, sir. To Poitier's associates. Perhaps I know them. Do you know their names, Thorpe? I doubt you know them, sir. Shall I run your bag first? So it's me. Uh, do you think anyone would mind if I ran down and borrowed a book from the library to read while I soak? I wouldn't do that, sir. No. No, sir. Mr. Poitier has a fearsome temper when anyone interrupts his conferences. Excuse me, I'll draw you about, sir. What a nice, friendly place. I gave you good advice, ma'am. Oh, did he come in? Why? What goes on downstairs that I can't... I'm sorry, but Papa and I, we have strict orders to not even discuss the work we are doing. Ordered? I thought your father was in charge. Oh, no. No, he is only the liaison man for our leader, but I am saying too much, and you ask too many questions. I would not like having to report you as being overly curious about it. Mm-hmm. But if it became necessary, I would. Oh, keep that in mind. You do that. The result of any such report would bring down on you the most severe disciplinary action. You will understand what that means. Well, I sure do. Good. Then let's talk about things more pleasant, huh? What would you like for dinner? I, uh... I am a very good cook. That's about it, Mr. Ferguson. Not much to show for three days, but they're making a point out of not letting me see or hear a thing. I love cagey ones. No argument about that. Every time I step out of my room, I seem to have one of the poitiers or that pink-eyed butler fontan for company. Even getting away for an hour tonight was like breaking out of jail. And every day the sabotage grows worse. I know, I read the papers. It's quoting a real bottleneck. I will have to move in soon. You can't. Not until we know who the commie leader is and where he keeps his records. With no proof, arrests will be futile. Don't you think I know that? Yeah. Matt, do you have a chance? I'll make one, Mr. Ferguson, somehow. All right, lad. Be careful. I would not want anything to... That is, I... Sure, I know. Now, good night, Mr. Ferguson. There was no more time for caution. The next night, after pretending to go to sleep, I slipped down to listen at the library door during one of Comrade Poitiers' mysterious conferences. It was a poor gamble, for all I heard was a mumble of voices. I was on the verge of trying to look through the keyhole when I saw Suzanne coming down the hall toward me. There was no way to avoid discovery. I was trapped. There was a communist for the FBI and the second act of our story. I was trying to help Canadian counter-espionage, break up a big commie sabotage ring operating out of Calgary, but as I eavesdropped on Comrade Poitiers' secret meeting, I found myself caught by the approach of a not-so-lovely Suzanne. What else could I do? I knocked. What are you doing down there? Yes, sweating. Hi. Suzanne? I do not know. I saw him just again. How can I see Comrade Poitiers? You pay very little heed to warnings. And for a butler, you don't pay much attention to a guest's request. I ask to see... Yes. Perhaps you'd better come in. Thanks. Oh, excuse me, Comrade Poitiers. I didn't realize you were busy. The meeting is adjourned, Comrade. It's good night. Oh, look, you didn't have to break up the meeting. Oh, Comrade Matt, why did you do this foolish thing? Well, I... I guess I thought it was time to talk to you alone about some things. Alone? Oh! Oh! Oh, so that is deep. Suzanne, you hear. Yes, Papa. I heard too, Jacques, but I'm afraid I'll need some explanation. But it is obvious, Nespas. He came to speak to me about Suzanne. He came to spy, you mean. No, no, no. Oh, he knocked at the door. It's his one's that he had to spy. Comrade Poitiers, if he was a spy, would he have been trusted to bring us the money to continue our work? Give him a chance. Oh, yes. Yes, we will, without fail. All right, all right. But if he causes us any trouble, you'll both answer for it along with him. Oh, now, look, stop doing me favors. I'm a party member, too, remember? Yes, but you haven't been cleared for this kind of work, Comrade. Cleared? Oh, that tags you as MVD. That's true. I'm an agent of the secret police, but I'm more than that. I'm in charge of this operation. But I haven't any ideas where he keeps his records yet. Matt, I think Thornton's books may be right in the Poitiers house. He'd have to have them close at hand. Well, that figures, but you'll have to be sure. If you can win Thornton over, work with him, preparing for the big piece of sabotage. That's a dream. He won't let me even... Tell him you know of a secret shipment of copper, a big double train load coming through Calgary tomorrow. No dice. You'd have ways to check up. Let him. The train is coming. Oh. It might work, but it's risky. If Thornton doesn't let me work on it, we won't be able to stop him from sabotaging trains. It's worth the risk. Okay. How do I get word to you? We'll have the house surrounded like a blanket. If you can get outside, we'll contact you. And if not? Then get a signal to us. We'll be ready to move in. And I'll be ready to move out. You better drop me now, or I'll have to meet Suzanne. Where? Drugstore on Naples Street. I promise to treat. I love our working together. We have so much in common. You and I... Spoken to my father, yes? Oh, well. That is, because of the way things worked out, I decided it would be best to move myself first. Oh, you don't have to. No, I must. Or Comet Thornton will believe we're putting sentiment ahead of our work. Oh, but... Sorry, Comet, Suzanne. I discovered something tonight that I think will do the trick. I'll show him I can be just as valuable to the party as anyone else. But of course you can. I'll do it tonight if he's still up. Oh, come right in. I hope your work went well this evening. Oh, fine, Comet Red. Oh, better than that. Mm-hmm. Oh, tell him, Comet Redman, tell him. Sure. I picked up some important information from the chief dispatcher's office. One of the clerks. What kind of information? A big train load of copper. Secret shipment. You'd have passed through here tomorrow. Oh. What kind of reaction is that? You're lying, Svethig. I have my own sources of information, and I checked them only this afternoon. What are you... There is no copper train scheduled tomorrow. And I say there is. Check again. Oh, don't worry, I will. Or maybe you'd better worry. I took the commie chief's advice. I worried. If Ferguson had made a mistake about that copper shipment, I was due for a long rest from breathing. Horton plainly suspected that I was a spy, and my story just a trick to get his group to betray itself. I had no illusions as to what would happen if he became sure of it. You don't want it downstairs? What happened? Did Horton find... I don't know. Come on. Suzanne, you know... Please. I want to believe you, but I have to be sure that you are not what Comrade Horton suspected. Well, that won't take long. Down here. In the cellar? Now, wait. What's the idea? Quiet. Like a morgue. Of course. What's in this room? The bodies? Uh, good. Come in, Comrade. Suzanne, you go back upstairs. Very well. Mm-hmm. Coming in. Hmm. Oh, yeah. This is my private room where Stark and I plan our work. We. Our most important work. Hmm. Wait a minute. I get the idea. I've just been taken out of the doghouse. That's right. It seems I made a mistake about you, Comrade Stettig. Oh. Well, don't bother to apologize. I wasn't going to. I acted as I felt proper on the information I had. Only as it turned out, my information was wrong. The train is coming through here tomorrow, then. Just as you said it would. You've proved yourself both alert and loyal to the party, Comrade. We can use these things. Thanks. I've also got an idea how this job can be done more effectively. Mm-hmm. Your work has always been in or close to the railroad yards. But where else? Where would you pick, Comrade? Kicking horse pass where the railroad enters the Rockies. It's 40 miles from here. Now, if we arranged a real accident to happen in that pass. Aha! We. It would be manifesting. You're right, Stark. We'll take weeks to retrieve that copper and repair the line. You don't have much time to set this up. And if you don't mind, I'd like to work with you on it. Well, why not? Jock, get my records out of the safe. We'll see whom we have to do this job. I watched as Comrade Poitier opened a hidden floor safe and brought out a familiar strongbox along with the records. It was time to signal Ferguson now, but that didn't look so easy from a small cellar room with no windows. A pot-bellied stove. Pay attention, Comrade. What? Yeah, it's cold in here. Well, some wood in the stove, then. Along with the wood I added my handkerchief. And when the fire was smoking good, I reached for the damper up on the stove pipe. I opened it for three quick short intervals, followed by a long one. Somewhere above the house, I knew the smoke was rising in puffs that spelled out the Morse code letter V. V for victory. I could only pray that Ferguson saw it and understood. Comrade Stettig, what are you doing? Oh, it's just damper. It seems to be stuck. You have it open now. Leave it that way. All right, that should complete the plan. Jacques, you send Dishon Lane to Kicking Horse Pass. Comrade Met, this cellar gun just came for you from the United States. For me? Yes. I see it. Oh, no. What's the matter? Take a look. They want me back home immediately. Home, Met. They're upset with you, Comrade, for staying so long. So what? I don't care. I can't leave now just for me. Comrade! Huh? Since when do our personal desires come to your obedience to the party? Well, they don't, but I can't leave right now. If you're needed in America, you must go at once. But no, not right now. Come on, Met. You must. What? Suzanne, you... The party comes first. Our own feelings cannot interfere with our duty. Sure, but I can't see that I have to go. Point Rams says immediately that means now. Well, I... I guess you're right. And I'll leave right away. The sooner, the better. Yes, Comrade. As you say, the sooner, the better. I set a world's record packing my bags and left after an awkward farewell and kiss from both of Guatiers, who wished me the commie version of Godspeed, which means just leave out the word God. Two blocks away, I found Ferguson waiting to signal the raid to begin. Folk signals? You must think you're an American Indian. Well, it did the trick. You'll find Thornton's records and the money in a floor safe and a room in the cellar. Good. Good work, Matt. We are ready to move in. Stubborn fool that you'll be. Sometimes it's a pleasure to have you around. Same to you, sir. And thanks for the telegram. Well, now, I couldn't take a chance on you being hurt or maybe killed in one of these raids, could I? It would look terrible on my records. Yeah. But you saved me from a fate worse than that, Mr. Ferguson. Worse, lad? When you raid the house, take a good look at Suzanne Poitiers. I think you'll see what I mean. Goodbye, sir. Once again, a job was finished, and yet the fight was never ended for the Ferguson's and myself. In Canada, as in every country dedicated to the principles of freedom, men like you would always be joining hands in silent war against the forces of communism. But even as we fought together, I remained a man who must continue to walk alone. We'll return in just a moment. All over the world, people like you and I and the folks next door are faced with the insidious threat of communism. We can meet that threat only by being alert, by never closing our eyes to the fact that it is a threat. We'll see you guys next week when we bring you another thrilling experience of Matt Savetek. Weren't you?