Suddenly the tall man stepped from the circle of darkness into the light. He stopped a moment, peered up at the 555-foot top, looked at his watch, then started to walk around the base. On his left hand he wore a glove. A band of adhesive tape circled the middle finger of his right hand, and he carried a red-covered book under his left arm. This man was an employee of our Defense Department. As part of his work he had access to highly confidential information, just what the Russians wanted. Exactly at seven o’clock, another man clad in a dark business suit stepped from the shadows. An espionage contact set up months previously in Austria was being consummated to the minute. The second man was Yuri V. Novikov, Second Secretary of the Soviet Embassy in Washington. (Novikov was well known to the FBI, since his activities in the United States had gone far beyond those of a diplomatic official. He was audacious almost beyond description. His brazenness reached a climax when he sat with defense counsel during the espionage trial of the onetime Justice Department employee, Judith Coplon. During this trial he would write out questions and hand them to defense counsel to direct to FBI agents on the witness stand. He was particularly interested in having questions asked pertaining to our internal administration and procedures.) When Novikov met the government employee he said, “I’m Mr. Williams,” the code words of recognition, along with the glove, tape, and red book. The two shook hands, then Novikov took the military specialist by the elbow, directing him from the light. A few words, arranging another meeting, and they parted. From that night, for an entire year, the Soviets made secretive contacts with the government employee, never realizing that he was a “double agent” of the FBI. Seldom were meetings held in the same place. Some were on lonely lanes or in dead-end streets; one on a narrow rock bridge on a deserted Maryland road after dark. One time Novikov stood in a movie line; the double agent was to pass by and, seeing him there, would know that a meeting was scheduled one hour later at a nearby school. Then there were chalk marks on trash cans and a pencil mark on page 100 of the Manhattan (New York) telephone directory in Washington’s Union Station, elaborate code signals between Novikov and the man from the defense establishment.