Ring of Spies

- Ever since men distrusted each other,

which appears on the records

as early as the Book of Genesis,

there have been spies.

Prying eyes taking note of enemy dispositions

and hastening back with vital information.

Until some time in the last century,

they took on a certain glamour

and became romantic figures of melodrama,

or featured in the glorious absurdities of the early cinema.

Alas for silent films.

Alas for Ouida and Phillips Oppenheim.

The times have changed, and so have the methods.

Today spying has grown almost into a minor industry,

a cold reality of the Cold War

helped by every modern device,

every scientific aid that can be conjured up.

The U-2 planes, radar,

microscopes, microfilms,

microphones, microdots,

machines on which coded messages

are recorded in morse symbols

and automatically transmitted at such a high speed

that the whole message is sent in a matter of seconds,

making detection impossible.

Now indeed they come not as single spies,

but in battalions.

Harry Goldman, Colonel Abel,

Klaus Fuchs, the Rosenbergs.

One case overlapping another in ever-widening circles,

until every secret department is suspect

and no carrier of secrets is safe

unless he is also safe from blackmail.

This is in all its basic essentials

the true story of one group of such people.

Gordon Arnold Lonsdale,

Peter and Helen Kroger,

Henry Houghton and Elizabeth Gee.

Give us another Scotch, Dimitri.

A large one, as it's on the house.

They don't have enough of these do's for my liking.

Thanks.

More champagne, please.

How you doing, Paula girl?

Concentrating on the job, eh?

What about relaxing with me tonight when it's all over?

Hey, how about it?

I'm talking to you, Paula!

Ah!

I'm terribly sorry, my fault.

What the devil is it, Warner?

- An accident of some sort with the drinks, it looks like.

Not the Turkish ambassador's wife.

Oh dear. - Is it Houghton again?

I'm afraid so, sir.

Houghton! - Sir?

Report to my office at 0900 tomorrow.

Yes, sir.

Harry.

Drinking?

Hm.

Drowning the sorrows.

You have no sorrows, Harry.

Oh, don't you believe it, darling.

I've picked up a packet of 'em today.

A packet.

Got kicked out of the embassy party.

On me arse.

Why?

- Tipped the drinks over the Turkish ambassador's wife.

What's the worst they can do?

Send me back to England.

I'm sorry, drogi.

It's not your fault, ducks.

You know...

I'm going to miss...

You.

Here, I got a present for you.

Picked it up on D-Day.

There you are.

Thank you, Harry.

Okay, get 'em off.

What's it matter anyway, what's it matter?

When they machine-gunned us in the drink,

I swore I'd never worry again if I ever got out of it.

Well, I haven't, either.

Fight for your country, risk your life, gratitude.

In the Navy since I was 15.

Could have worked my way up, but oh no, oh no.

Highest you can get is Master-at-Arms.

Haven't been to the right school.

Not the officer type, old boy. (scoffs)

What's it matter if you haven't got it?

Money will buy it.

Money will buy anything.

Buy anything.

- London, eh? - Tak.

- You were drunk! - Sir-

Well anyway, you'd been drinking.

You know as well as I do, Houghton,

working in the embassy here

you can't do that sort of thing.

It won't happen again, sir.

You're damn right it won't.

I warned you the last time,

if there was any repetition, you'd be for it.

You'll be sent home on Tuesday.

Tuesday?

- We'd never have been kept you here this long

but for your war record.

You're a bad security risk, Houghton.

Okay, sir, if that's it, that's it.

- I'll have to make a report to the Admiralty about you.

Maybe as a civil servant they can't fire you.

But I don't see how they can possibly give you

a job of any responsibility again.

Christina darling,

you will be surprised to learn

that I have been posted to Portland,

the most secret Admiralty base in the country.

I miss you more than I can say.

Do you know much about

the Underwater Weapons Establishment?

Not a thing.

Whitehall shoved me out here.

Been in Warsaw ever since I left the service.

Warsaw?

Behind the Iron Curtain.

Had to watch your step there, I'll bet.

Always watch it, don't worry.

Well, there's no choice here.

All this new anti-submarine equipment

and heavens knows what we're experiment with.

They reckon this is is about the most hush-hush joint

in the whole country.

Probably why they sent you down here.

Could be.

Commander Winters has grabbed you

for the Records Department.

Told me to take you straight there.

- Mr. Houghton's with you, is he?

That's all right, sir.

- You appreciate the significance of all of this?

Of course.

- You can't get in there without a special pass.

The whole underwater defence system of Britain

is tied up in these few buildings,

so you can understand them being a bit particular about it.

I've saved our department till last.

This is where you'll be working, Houghton.

I'll introduce you to the boys and girls.

We're a pretty happy bunch on the whole.

Meadows.

Meadows, this is Mr. Houghton.

You'll be assisting Meadows.

- How do you do? - How you do?

You're more than welcome.

I badly need some help, I can tell you.

I'm weeks behind with the filings, let alone anything else.

- Oh, you'll soon get into the run of things.

There's nothing particularly expert or complicated

about the work we do here, I'm afraid.

The main thing about it is quantity.

Oh yes, this is Marjorie, Marjorie Shaw.

How do you do?

One of the more worthwhile reasons

for working in this department.

Runner-up for Miss Lyme Regis to boot.

- Oh, I wish you'd forget that, Mr. Winters.

It was four years ago.

Oh, what's it really?

Well, apart from shorthand and typing,

she generally lights up the place.

Oh, Elizabeth, this is Mr. Houghton.

Miss Gee. - Hello.

- Mr. Houghton's the new recruit I told you about.

Miss Gee is the guardian of our innermost secrets

and the keeper of the keys.

She also makes an excellent cup of tea.

I was just about to put the kettle on.

Jolly good. (chuckles)

This'll be your desk here.

Come into the office for a moment.

I've booked you in at the White Horse

until you can make your own arrangements.

- Thanks, I've got a caravan at Portsmouth

I'd like to bring over here as soon as I can find a site.

The one on the left is for old Meadows.

We really must get some new cups.

There's not one here that isn't chipped.

Mr. Houghton likes it strong.

Does he?

Well, I'm afraid that's the best we can do on our ration.

The last cup of the week.