 Your host, General Electric. On May 1, 1960, the U-2 incident occurred. Khrushchev sabotaged the summit conference. On August 13, 1961, the Berlin Wall went up. Between those two dates, the Cold War threatened to erupt into World War III. It was a time of maximum caution, maximum danger. For the next 30 minutes, security risk. The city of Frankfurt, April 5, 1961. At 2.30 that afternoon, a man named Wilhelm Friede entered a telegraph office. We take telegrams to the show. From Freiland, Erika Rilke. Erika Rilke, age 26, Polish citizen. The telegram advised her that her only brother was dying in a Frankfurt hospital. George Ellsworth, second secretary to the American Embassy in Warsaw, was the man she turned to. Erika, please don't cry. If it was just a matter of a visa, but you know the Polish government won't give you a passport to leave. If you would ask them, you're an important man. You could say your government. I can't on a personal matter. No, but you can come here when you're lonely. You can take me in your arms and say you love me. That you can do. Erika. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You've been very kind. Please forgive me. No, I've been selfish, Erika. I really have been. I'll try to do what I can't believe me. I will. It'll work out somehow, and I just know it will. Erika, Erika, thank you. This evening, you'll be here. Let's hope we don't have to play it back for him. Warsaw, Poland, the only state in Europe flanked by the Russian army on both sides, a communist country, a hotbed of espionage, the building of most interest to communist agents, the American Embassy, and especially one room in that building, the file room, where all classified documents are kept. Jim Kowalski, a special agent for the State Department, was responsible for the security of those secrets. Thank you, Harry. See you later, Mr. Kowalski. Taking Marie and the kids to the plane? Yeah. Well, while they're gone, be sure you come over to the house for dinner. When you going on your vacation? Oh, a week, 10 days. Say goodbye for me, will you? OK. It was April 7th. George Ellsworth's wife, Marie, and their children left for Paris to visit her parents. George would be alone in Warsaw for two weeks. Then he would join them. At least that was the plan. Mr. Ellsworth? Excuse me, but aren't you Mr. George Ellsworth of the American Embassy? That's right. I'm Stephen Yarick of the Polish government. Passport division. Mr. Yarick, what can I do for you? A young Polish girl by the name of Erika Wilkin. She applied for a passport. Evidently, she has no family, no one. Oh, but I'm detaining you now. No, no. How about your drink? Yes, thank you very much. Naturally, when a request comes from an official of your government, a high official will choose to cooperate. I don't believe I understand you. Quite simple. You wanted something, we delivered it. Now, Mr. Ellsworth, we want something. You'd like to take pictures with the camera, Mr. Ellsworth? You're wasting your time. Documents, Mr. Ellsworth. Classified documents from the Embassy files. Do you know what would happen if I were to report this? What would you report? As you, a married man with children, have been secretly involved with another woman for months. I would deny it, and so would Erika. So would she. It would be your award against ours. Not entirely. You see, I take pictures, too. I have some excellent studies of you and this working together in automobile and picnics, entering her apartment. You care to see them? Shall I expect to hear from you very soon? Thank you very much for the drink. George Ellsworth was leaving government service on the 1st of June. Going back to America with his wife and children, he had been in the State Department for five years. His record was excellent. He had only seven more weeks to go. George Ellsworth, something I knew for you. Here are the classified materials for the past two weeks. Please, can I read it? Of course. My family way, I'm trying to catch up with my work. You're not keeping it late, am I? Oh, no, no, I'm just weeding out some of the old stuff. I'll be here for a couple more hours at least. You don't have to stay in my account. Check over your daily log. When are you going to come over for dinner? Oh, one of these nights. I've been busy. Good. Bye, George. Bye, George. I'll be here at eight. Yes, sir. I must be losing my marbles. Why, what's wrong? I brought the wrong folder, and I left my pipe. Would you excuse me a minute? Of course. We'll be right back. Four nights after he was approached by Jarek, George Ellsworth photographed his first top secret document. In 1961, West Germany had no diplomatic relations with Poland. As a courtesy, visas were handled for West Germany by the American consulate. On April 21st, Jim Kowalski was called to the office of Tom Erickson, American vice consul. Tom? Hi, Jim. Sit down. Thanks for the time, Jim. I thought it wiser to see you rather than use the phone. Was there anything wrong? No, I'm just puzzled. Maybe there's nothing to it, probably isn't. But I can't get something out of my mind. What is it? Well, this morning my office issued a visa to a Polish girl, Erika Rilke. She has a brother in Frankfurt dying. Here's the telegram summoning her. You think the passport's a fraud? No, I checked. The Polish government issued the passport. But you see, that's what troubles me. It's unusual for the Poles to give passports to young, able-bodied people, almost unheard of. Why this girl? You think they're sending out an agent? Well, I thought I'd check with you. Maybe you might have something on file. Here's a copy of her passport picture. She's pretty. She had any family in Warsaw? Relatives? Employer? No, but there is one other thing. She knows a man here in the embassy. He escorted her personally through the consulate, hurried the visa through. The diplomatic officials often do that. It's a show of courtesy. This is not a show of courtesy, Jim. He was insistent, almost to the point of rudeness. Who is it? George Ellsworth. Roy, Jim Kowalski. I want to send a message in code. Ben Waltman, security officer, American consulate, Frankfurt. Please verify identity, address, occupation. Klaus Rilke, reported dying, Frankfurt Hospital. Urgent. Thank you, Roy. Harry, you want to see what we have in the file on that woman? Her name is Rilke, and the address is on the telegram. Harry, has George been in the file room much lately? Every night, until yesterday, I said he wanted to get all caught up before I went on vacation. The message came back from Ben Waltman in Frankfurt the next day, April 22. No Klaus Rilke in hospital in Frankfurt. Name not listed anywhere. Suggest no such person. Oh, Jim Kowalski. This is a new leaf roster, aren't you? You got it handy? George Ellsworth's going on vacation tomorrow, 10 days. Where'd he put in for? In April 24, George Ellsworth checked into a Frankfurt hotel. A few hours later, Jim Kowalski arrived in Frankfurt. He was met by Ben Waltman, who advised him that Ellsworth was being kept under constant surveillance. Ellsworth and Fraulein Rilke returned to their hotel later that afternoon to find Wilhelm Frieda waiting for them. His identity and address were already being traced by the police. Frieda gave them the keys to his car, which he had driven to the hotel. Who was that man down there? How did he know I was here? Wilhelm? Whoever he was, what did you tell him? Wilhelm was an old friend, George. He's the one who sent the telegram about my brother. Don't you realize that if they find out what I've done and then they find us, who else did you tell? George. Look, I'm going to go back to Warsaw. You want me to be ashamed? I am not ashamed. When you were lonely, you came to me. And when I needed help, I came to you. Why is that so wrong? Wrong. I'll tell you what's wrong. It's what I did to help you. I betrayed a truste, Erica, not only morally, but legally. George, because you loved me. It's a pretty poor excuse for a married man. Oh, that's the reason, isn't it? It's your wife you're worried about. Not me or your job, it's her. Well, I've got her up to here. Damn it! Listen, Erica, I'll help find you an apartment here. I'll pay six months rent in advance. You're so generous with money when you have no more use for me. How could you possibly say a thing like that to me after what I did for you? I was a traitor to my country so you could have a passport to leave Poland. I was not enough for you! Just please don't cry. I was alone. I had no one. I told myself it would have to be that way. Why did I have to meet you? The preliminary report on George Ellsworth identified Wilhelm Frieda. It also included the license number and the description of the car Frieda had turned over to Ellsworth. The Frankfurt police had used the license number to obtain a photo stat of Frieda's driver's license. But there were no facts indicating treason or espionage. The Frankfurt telegraph company traced the telegram to the office from which it had been sent. The original copy was on file in the sender's handwriting. Kowalski compared the handwriting and signature to the signature on the photo stat of the driver's license belonging to Wilhelm Frieda. They were identical. Why did the Polish government issue a passport to that girl unless it was quid pro quo? Payment for something. From the girl? No, they didn't do it for the girl. Did it for Ellsworth? What kind of payment? I don't want to guess, Ben. I got to know. It was April 25th. Jim Kowalski had five weeks to find out. He returned to Warsaw, asked for and received a private interview with the American ambassador. He revealed his suspicions and recommended that the security file be desensitized. Recommendation granted. He asked permission that a special camera be concealed in the file room. Request granted. OK, Harry. This will pick up anyone sitting at the table. I sure hope it works. It didn't work. George Ellsworth returned to Warsaw on May 4th. He never went into the file room again. On the 24th, Jim Kowalski had one more meeting with the ambassador. There's less than a week left, sir. And there's only one more thing that I can do to confront him with the girl in Wilhelm Frieda and Frankfurt. I'd like to have Ellsworth's orders change, route him to Frankfurt instead of directly to Paris. It's a wild gamble, sir, but I'm going to have to take it. Request granted. George Ellsworth's orders were changed. You seem to be giving you quite a send-off. Yeah. When's your plane leave for Paris? Well, I'm not going to Paris with Maria and the kids. I'm taking the midnight plane for Frankfurt. Change of orders. Why Frankfurt? Well, I'm supposed to meet with the protocol officer there. I suppose it's a briefing session with my successor. Listen, Jim, I'm not very good at saying goodbyes. I guess I'm the kind of person that doesn't like to let go of anything, want everything for keeps. But I'm going to miss you and Louise and the kids, those ski trips, and those cheeseburgers you make every Sunday afternoon. Well, George, keep in touch. George, good luck. 9 o'clock that evening, George Ellsworth arrived at the consulate in Frankfurt. He was directed to Ben Waltman's office. Please, sit down. Thank you. Actually, Mr. Ellsworth, I'm here because I wanted a few minutes with you. I need your help, a passport matter. The German police picked up a woman named Erica Rilke. They think her passport and visa are fraudulent. Now, she says she knows you slightly. Says you helped her in some way. Well, yes, yes, I remember. But I can assure you that her passport and visa were quite in order. Know her well? No, no, not very. She was orphaned during the war. She's poor. She wanted to get out of Warsaw for good. She has a brother here in Frankfurt, and he's very sick. In fact, he's dying. And hello, George. What is this? However, a few questions we want answered. I don't have to answer anything. Will you bring Ms. Rilke in place? George, I'm like a lot to see you. What's this all about? Now, just take it easy, darling. Just take it easy. All right, Jim. Obviously, you know about us. So we know. You were together here in April. We had you under surveillance. This is my private life, Jim. Stay out of it. You were taken, George. You've been had. What? She's lied to him. How can you say that you think that's not true? You're lying to him. He's the one that's lying, darling. I don't believe what are they trying to do. She's booked passage on a plane for Warsaw tomorrow. She never wanted to leave Poland. Did you? No, no. I told you I didn't. I didn't. I didn't. No. You know this man, George? He sent the telegram to Ms. Rilke about her dying brother. And we don't have to prove that. He's admitted it. You need a true sound. Sound! I'm sorry, sir. What can I do? I don't have any other way out. Roll out! I'm sorry, sir. I don't have any other way out. We're checked on the brother. He doesn't exist. He never existed. You've been had. You were taken, George. George. Don't believe it. George, you've got to tell me the truth. Did you give any secret information to the communists? I don't know what you're talking about, and not just leave me alone. George, don't lie to me. I've got to know what kind of information it was. Look, a lot of classified material goes into Poland by telegram in code. George, stop! Listen to me! Listen! You're not a traitor. I know that. You just got trapped. The communists have got copies of those telegrams. If you pass them any translations, they can crack that code. We've got to know. We can't go on sending messages in a code that they know. George, I can't stop you. You know that. By midnight tonight, you'll be on your way home. We'll never know, but you'll know. And I don't think you can live with that, George. You're taking your kids home to teach them they're Americans. Who's going to teach them that, George? You? You can't keep it inside you. I know you too well. Sooner or later, you'll tell. And they be too late. I keep them quiet about it now. It might cause damage to hundreds, thousands of people, because you didn't speak up in time. Did you give Dakota material to the communists? It takes guts. I know you got them. It happened the way you said, Jim, the way they planted. A woman, a black male. I guess I got panicky. I didn't know what I was doing. I thought they may be once and then they let me off the hook. But it didn't work that way. I kept getting in deeper. How many documents? Six. But none of it was decoded stuff. Jim, I swear to that. It's mostly material that our local intelligence officers gathered about the communist activities around Warsaw, things the communists already knew. But all they gained was that now they know that we know a lot of their secrets. There was no coded stuff, Jim. You want to go back upstairs, tell it for the record? Plomatic circles, it's often said that peace or war may hinge on who reads a single piece of paper. Because of that, the problem of security is a vital one. Now, there aren't many Jim Kowalski's. The State Department's Office of Security numbers just 235 men. We have 300 missions overseas. It's a big job, but then they're big men.