And now, tonight's presentation of radio's outstanding theater of thrills, Suspense.
Tonight, we bring you a transcribed story of Flight to Freedom.
So now, starring Parley Bear and Howard McNear, here is tonight's suspense play, The Security
Agent.
The plan was almost laughable in its conception.
The beginning was four months ago, the place, Krakow, Poland.
There were two friends, Joseph Ostrovsky, a superintendent in the state bus works, and
Frederick Zylanko, an executive of the state radio broadcasting company.
Both were over 40, both unmarried.
They met regularly on Saturday nights for dinner and an evening of chess.
In May of 1956, on just such a Saturday, Zylanko was trying to maneuver Ostrovsky into a stalemate.
Well, clever, clever.
You are learning.
Another beer, Joseph?
Joseph.
When is the last time you had cold beer?
What?
Oh, I don't know.
If I had a refrigerator, we could have cold beer.
If cows had wings, they would fly.
At the trade fair in Warsaw, I saw refrigerators, big, beautiful refrigerators.
I wonder where they went.
Who got them?
Oh, don't be funny.
It's all very well for you.
You didn't go.
You didn't see what I saw.
I had to broadcast it.
I heard you weren't very good.
I'm not an announcer.
I'm an official.
Do you or don't you want to finish this game?
I'm sorry, but you'll finish.
Joseph.
Are you going to the mechanical exhibition next month, the one in Prague?
Not if I can help it.
Keep quiet, will you?
I'm hoping to be able to go.
I don't like airplanes.
Ah, ah.
Ah, now.
Get out of that.
I think I will.
Huh?
Get out.
What are you talking about?
Why don't you do it too?
Do what?
Leave Poland.
Leave...
You must be out of your mind.
Oh, no, no.
No, it's a joke.
You're joking.
No, I'm not.
I've been thinking about it for a long time.
Shh.
Somebody might...
You don't have to worry.
We're not being monitored.
I'm clear with security, and so are you, in case you're interested.
Well, it must be the beer.
You shouldn't drink so much.
I'm not drunk, and you know it.
I'm sick of living this way.
Well, I'd rather not talk about it.
Why not?
Well, it's not healthy.
The police have a way of finding these things out, even what you're thinking.
That's another reason to get out.
Oh, you've been working too hard.
Things aren't so bad here, you know.
I don't know.
Maybe I see and hear more than you do.
Maybe I'm tired of rationalizing my life now, compared to what I remember before the war.
Things will never be the same again.
Not here, maybe, but there are other countries.
I'm a Pole.
No, you're not.
You're whatever they want you to be.
Today, I'd rather be a Pole anywhere than in Poland.
It makes me ashamed.
How would you get out?
The mechanical exhibition in Prague.
Well, things are no different in Czechoslovakia.
Suppose...
Supposing we fly to Prague, but never reach there.
Suppose the plane were to land in Austria instead.
Oh, you're mad.
The idea only just occurred to me, but it is possible.
Others have done it.
Flyers with their own planes, perhaps, but can you operate an airplane?
Now, can you?
No.
Well, then...
We'd need one more.
One more like ourselves, and I think I know the man.
Three of us, with pistols, and at the right time, force the pilot to take us to Austria.
Oh, Frederick, no, no, no.
That's a very bad novel.
I mean it.
Three of us, you and I, and one other nameless idiot, take over an airliner in the air and
force the pilot, and not to speak of the other passengers, force them to land in Austria?
We can do it.
Oh, you can do it, not me.
I'll say prayers at your trial.
Now, I'll miss you when they execute you.
I've considered that, and I think I'm willing to take the chance.
You're serious?
You're really serious?
Yes.
If I can get the opportunity to go, where would you get a gun?
And I can get another.
Where?
It doesn't matter.
I can get it.
You and I, we're middle-aged.
Young people do this kind of thing, but not us.
It's too late for us.
Is it?
Well, all our lives, our work, friends, everything is here.
We could start again.
Oh, it's ridiculous.
Talking as though we'd really entertain such an idea.
Oh, now, come on, forget it, and finish the game.
Come on, it's your move.
A week later, on the following Friday, Frederick Gylonko was called into the office of the
manager of the state radio.
The man's name was Kozun.
He liked Gylonko, and he offered his subordinate a cigar.
Gylonko.
Comment, Kozun?
Gylonko, I've had my eye on you.
Oh?
I've had my eye on you, and I've been wondering.
Something wrong?
You puzzled me.
In what way?
I've wondered why a man of your abilities, your obvious devotion to your work, had not
become a party member.
Oh.
Well, comrade, I'm afraid I've...well, I suppose that I'm not well enough politically adjusted.
Perhaps I'd rather others make the decisions for me.
It makes it a little awkward at this time.
You see, there is the mechanical exhibition in Prague.
Yes, I know.
You are the logical man to send, to supervise our broadcast, but it's a question of sending
you to Czechoslovakia, you see.
But comrade, surely my record...
Oh, you've been cleared by security.
No question of that, my friend.
No.
It's a matter of political expediency.
A party member would make a so much better impression with our comrades in Prague.
Oh, yes.
On the other hand, there's another man in the company with your qualifications to fulfill
the task.
Yes, I can see it is a problem.
You understand that these objections come from a high source, and believe me, Gylonko,
they are not personal.
I believe you.
Therefore, if I am forced to assign another man, a party member, to accompany you, a man
who is outwardly your superior, you would understand...
Well, I'm not sure...
Someone who can meet the officials in Prague, someone who can speak as a representative
of the state radio.
Of course, the technical details would remain in your hands.
The power behind the throne, if you will pardon such an expression.
Between you and me, my friend, I would not blame you if you declined.
Well, I...
Of course, it will do no harm as far as your future position is concerned, if you were
to agree.
Well, have you... have they someone in mind for the spokesman?
Vladimir Halesky.
Halesky?
He is a party member.
Of course, I understand.
Take it over, my friend.
I have.
I should be honored to represent the state radio and do my best in whatever capacity.
Your uncle, I salute you.
I may add that you have saved my neck with those in higher places.
We can be sure that in your able hands the broadcast will be successful.
I shall make all arrangements.
You and comrade Halesky leave next week.
By plane?
Of course, by plane.
Our newest.
I should say, our great neighbor's newest and best transport.
Thank you, your uncle.
Thank you.
That evening, Shalanko called his friend Joseph Ostrovsky.
They had not seen or spoken to each other since the preceding Saturday.
But Shalanko had made up his mind now that the chance of escape had become a reality.
And he wanted Ostrovsky to join him.
An hour later, they were together in Shalanko's rooms.
All right, you wouldn't say anything on the phone.
Now, what is the mystery?
It's settled.
They asked me today.
They asked, almost begged me to go to Prague.
I leave next week.
I want you to come with me.
Well, I'm afraid I'll have to, whether I like it or not.
I'm representing the bus works at the exhibition.
You know what I mean, Joseph.
Yeah, I know what you mean.
And I've been thinking about it all week.
I'd hoped you would have given up the idea.
Given it up?
Oh, everything's in our favor.
Now, you'll see.
It couldn't be better.
Do you remember I said we'd need three men to do it to take over the plane?
Yes.
Well, we've got our third man.
He's joining us here this evening.
He should be here any minute.
You will come with us.
I don't know.
I need time to think.
We can do it.
I know we can.
Well, how can you be so sure?
The risk.
Who would expect us to try something like this?
And once we're on the plane...
That's him.
Say you're with us, Joseph.
I don't know.
I'm confused.
Come in.
Come in, my friend.
I'm glad you're early.
We have a lot to talk about.
Joseph, I want you to meet another would-be exile, the third member of our party, Mr. Vladimir
Halesky.
You are listening to The Security Agent, tonight's presentation on radio's outstanding theater
of thrills, Suspense.
As attractive a lady as justice may be, her efforts to solve the problems that arise when
human beings live in close contact with each other might be conspicuously ineffective were
it not for the support she receives from men of principle and courage who face danger on
her behalf every day of their working lives.
Tomorrow night, CBS Radio rings you in on another highly dramatic adventure of men who
look trouble in the eye in support of justice, the men of 21st Precinct.
Remember, 21st Precinct is a regular Thursday night feature over most of these same stations.
And now, we bring back to our Hollywood soundstage, Parley Bear and Howard McNear, starring in
tonight's production, The Security Agent, a tale well calculated to keep you in suspense.
I should be happier if I could understand the joke as well.
I'm sorry, Joseph, I'm sorry.
You see, they think that they assigned Vladimir to take the trip to Prague, but after I told
him of our plan, he was the one who suggested that I was not a fit representative and that
he would accompany me.
It was Vladimir's idea.
You're a party member?
They think so.
He agreed it is possible.
You see, Joseph, I'm not so foolish.
Here is a man younger than us.
He thinks it can be done.
I think it can, yes.
It won't be easy, but with a little luck.
Here, I brought a map.
I'll show you.
Now, here, this is the route of our flight to Prague.
We're in Krakow here.
We fly west to Prague here.
Now, the closest point to Austria is approximately here at Colleen, some 75 to 80 miles from
the border.
Just before we reach there, that is the time we take over the plane.
But what if the pilot sends out a radio alarm?
Won't they send up Czech fighters?
The chance we have to take.
I don't think they'd shoot us down anyway.
There'll be too many important people going to the exhibition.
And if each of us handles our assignments correctly, they'll send no messages.
Well, Joseph, I can't talk you out of it.
No, my mind's made up.
I'm going.
All right.
Then I have to come with you.
They talked and made their plans far into the night.
They knew that it might be unwise to be seen together after that until they boarded the
plane.
It was agreed that only two guns would be carried, and both of these by Halesky, who
as a party member would be least likely to be searched.
Once on the plane, a gun would be given to Zherlanko and the other retained by Halesky.
Ostrofsky, by his own admission, unused to firearms, would act as liaison between the
two men once the plane had been taken over.
You, Frederick, will keep the passengers in their seats.
As far as I know, the plane won't be full, probably 20, possibly 30, but no more.
We'll know that in a day or two.
Now, I'll take care of the pilots, Captain.
Ostrofsky, it'll be up to you to help Frederick with the passengers.
I'd feel better if Joseph had a gun, too.
Twenty or 30 people aren't going to be easy to watch.
We can't risk one of you carrying a gun.
If you search, we're finished before we even take off.
All right.
Oh, and I think there's no more to be said.
Good luck to us all.
Good luck.
The next three days went slowly.
Now that the decision had been made, Shalanko became increasingly wary.
On his way to work on Monday, he had the feeling that he was being followed, but dismissed
the thoughtless due to his nerves.
He carefully avoided any words with Halesky at the radio station, although he saw him
two or three times that day.
On Tuesday, both Shalanko and Halesky were called to the manager Porjom's office for
instructions concerning the radio broadcast schedule at the Prague exhibition.
On their way out, in an empty corridor, Halesky passed a note to Shalanko and walked downstairs
to his office.
The note read, State Security agent will be on board plane with us.
I don't know his identity, but we'll try to find out.
No reason to think they suspect us.
Probably only routine precaution, but be careful.
Behave normally.
Destroy this immediately.
Shalanko went into the lavatory and burned the note.
On his way home that night, once again he had the feeling that he was being followed.
On Thursday, the day before he was to leave, Shalanko wrote a letter to his uncle in Warsaw,
a man for whom he had great respect and love.
He said in part, you will, I think, understand why I'm doing this.
Perhaps there are many of us here in Poland who will agree with me and others who might
think I am a coward, and that if I feel so strongly about freedom, I should stay here
and fight for it at home.
My dear uncle, if I can accomplish any small thing in the free world, it will be to say
the things that need to be said about what is happening here.
This I am convinced I am more fitted for than taking up the battle on the home front.
I fear I would only end up before a firing squad.
I have no illusions about my strength as an underground agent.
Either I am too afraid or too conscious of my own inadequacies if I stay.
I would never be able to fight.
I have never been able to.
That is why I must leave Poland.
Some day I hope that I shall be able to see you again as you are the last of my living
family.
In any event, I shall think of you often as I trust you will of me kindly.
You must burn this letter, because I should not want you to be involved in the event that
I am either caught or that I escape.
With fondest regards, your nephew, Frederick.
On Friday morning, in the second week of June, the sleek transport plane began loading passengers
at the Krakow airport.
Among the passengers were Frederick Shilanko, Joseph Ostrowski, and Vladimir Halesky.
There was another man who walked out to the loading ramp behind Shilanko.
Shilanko, wait!
Come at Krochon.
A little surprise, huh?
A pleasant one.
To tell the truth, I have no right to make this trip, but I thought it would be nice
to get away for a few days so at the last minute I had it arranged.
My wife is furious.
Of course, my presence at the exhibition completely will be unofficial, you understand?
You won't give me away, will you?
I wouldn't dream of it, Comrade Krochon.
What do you think?
About Krochon?
I don't know.
Surely he couldn't be the security agent?
Doubtful, but possible.
Do you think he's come along to keep an eye on us?
Either that or to drink some good Czech beer.
Can you see Joseph?
He's four seats behind us.
Now stop worrying.
When I give the signal, he'll follow us forward toward the pilot's cabin.
Don't worry.
You'd better give me my gun now.
Fold your newspaper over your lap.
Open it up a bit more.
All right, here.
I feel better now.
Let's hope you don't have to use it.
How much longer do you think?
Forty minutes.
Relax, sit back.
Well I'm worried about that security agent.
Supposing he knows.
How can he?
Did you tell anybody?
No.
Did Joseph?
No, I'm sure not.
Then?
Vladimir.
Hmm?
I... I did tell one person.
What?
Yesterday, I wrote a letter to my uncle.
You fool, how could you do such a thing?
I wanted to say goodbye.
You said goodbye, all right.
One or the other of you, that's certain.
Yes, but he couldn't have got the letter yet.
Well, it's too late now.
If security intercepted that letter, we'll know soon enough.
It was stupid, wasn't it?
Yes, it was stupid.
You'd better shut up.
Corjon's watching us, we shouldn't be too friendly.
The plane flew at 10,000 feet over the Czech border.
Twenty-six passengers looked down to earth as the announcement was made, and although
there was no difference, each thought that he noticed a change in the landscape as the
invisible line was crossed.
Corjon moved down the aisle with a glass of vodka in his hand.
He smiled benignly at Zelenko, at Halesky.
Well, this is more like it, huh?
Away from the humdrum everyday turmoil of the station.
Anyway, lucky, imagine how many would like to be doing this.
Will you join me, gentlemen?
A drink?
Well, no, thank you.
I'm not used to airplanes.
Halesky?
I think not, comrade.
It's too early for me.
Oh, well, we make up for it in Prague, huh?
He moved away, pink cheeked, affable, and Zelenko wondered what his friend Joseph Ostrovsky
was thinking and felt sorry for him because he had to sit alone without a gun.
In his seat, Ostrovsky was thinking of Zelenko and wishing that it was all over.
Then they were ten minutes away from the point where they would make their attempt.
Zelenko became increasingly nervous.
Look here, supposing there's more than one security agent, they carry guns.
I might not be able to hold them off.
You'll have to.
They can't, no, but they can't.
They never have allowed us to get on the plane.
Don't you think?
With the security police, I've learned it's better not to try to guess.
You never know.
How will you know that Pilots flying the right course to Austria?
I told you I'll know.
I can fly a plane.
Now, stop it.
You're beginning to make me nervous.
I'm sorry.
How much more time?
Nine minutes.
Zelenko tried to count to seconds and watched them grow into minutes.
And suddenly it was time.
He felt an elbow nudge his side and he reached into his pocket for the cold comfort of the
gun.
His mouth was dry and he was very afraid.
The two men slowly walked forward to the pilot's compartment and a moment later they were joined
by Ostrovsky.
All right, I'm going in now.
Don't show your gun until you have to, Frederick.
And for heaven's sake, try not to use it.
Good luck.
Yes, good luck.
Well, Joseph, it's happening.
I know.
How do you feel?
Sick.
There's still time to stop this, you know.
Not now.
Joseph, that fellow in the third seat back, I don't like the way he's... he might be the
one.
The security agent.
Everybody's looking at us.
The attendant will be along in a minute.
We're not supposed to be standing here.
I wonder what's happening in there.
In the pilot's cabin, Vladimir Halesky had worked very quickly.
With the pistol butt, he had knocked out the radio operator and was covering the pilot
and copilot.
His orders were terse and to the point.
We've taken over the plane.
There are more of us taking care of the passengers.
You will change your course to the south.
If you do as I say, you will not be harmed.
If you try to be clever, I'll shoot.
I know how to fly this plane, so please don't force me to prove it.
We wish to land in Austria, you can make for Krems of Vienna.
After we land, you can do as you wish.
Stay with us or go on your way.
That's up to you.
Change course.
Now, please.
On the other side of the compartment, Shalunko and Ostrovsky waited and they felt the plane
begin to swing around.
The passengers became aware of it too.
What's the matter?
Why are we turning?
Now we'll see if there's trouble.
Don't take out your gun, Frederick.
Leave it in your pocket.
Listen to me, my friend.
I've got a gun.
You feel it.
Please don't do anything.
You are, my dear friend.
And I don't want you to be hurt.
I tried to stop you from doing this.
I want to save you because you're my friend.
That's why I didn't stop you before.
I couldn't let you know.
But it's still not too late.
Now, help me to take Helisky and no one needs to know about you.
You, the security police.
I know what they will do to you.
For our friendship, please.
Please.
You might as well kill me now, Joseph.
Shalunko, what's happening?
What's going on?
You know anything about this?
We're flying to Austria.
Austria?
What are you talking about?
What do you mean by that?
It doesn't matter anymore.
Well, I'm going to put a stop to this.
No, don't go in there.
Listen up.
It is questionable as the cabin door was opened, which of them fired first, Shalunko or Ostrovsky?
The fact remains that one of them was hit and the other was not.
Three weeks later, two men met in a hospital room in Vienna.
The one lying thin and pale in bed was Joseph Ostrovsky.
The other, his good friend, Frederick Shalunko.
Well, Joseph, how are you?
Better, thank you.
I'm sorry that I hurt you.
If you had not, you'd be dead now.
Yes, I suppose so.
You will be going back soon?
As soon as I can get up.
Yes.
Will they do anything to you?
I don't know.
They might.
But I have to go back.
Why?
Because I must.
You could stay here, find asylum with Halesky and me.
I don't think your new friends would appreciate the fact that I've been a security agent.
Others have done it.
I asked you before, Joseph.
I'll ask again.
Get out.
Don't go back.
There's nothing for you there.
We don't feel the same way about things, you and I.
Yes, we do.
Otherwise, you couldn't have protected me for as long as you did, knowing the way I
felt.
Don't you understand?
Joseph, please, don't go back.
I'll do everything I can to help.
I'll think about it.
Suspense in which Parley Bear and Howard McNear starred on tonight's presentation of the security
agent.
Suspense is produced and transcribed in Hollywood by Anthony Ellis.
You have heard the security agent written by Mr. Ellis for suspense.
The music was composed and conducted by Jerry Goldsmith, featured in the cast were John
Danaer, Herb Butterfield, and Harry Bartel.
The fact that you meet all of your responsibilities as an adult will in no way keep you from enjoying
the magic and charm of fantasies like The Hither and Thither of Danny Dither.
Written originally as a children's opera, The Hither and Thither of Danny Dither is graced
with music by Alex North and tells what happens when an efficiency expert decides to streamline
heaven.
For another delightful excursion into the unusual, be sure to hear The Hither and Thither
of Danny Dither this Friday night when the CBS radio workshop is on the air on most of
these same stations.
Stay tuned now for five minutes of CBS News to be followed on most of these same stations
by My Son Jeep.
America listens most to the CBS radio network.
The Hither and Thither of Danny Dither.