George the Spy

"The Badger's Den." the Japanese call it--the grim, grey, high-walled Russian embassy, which squats on a hill in Tokyo's downtown section. From alleys that lead toward it, from the windows that overlook it, Japanese police and U.S. intelligence agents keep watch on the furtive comings & goings of its 30-odd Russian inhabitants. The missions of the Russians are not diplomatic; the Japanese have not recognized the embassy since 1951, when the Soviet Union refused to ratify the Japanese peace treaty.

Mostly, the Russians traveled in pairs. But tall, blond Yuri Alexandrovich Rastovorov, 34, walked out alone. Though rated only a second secretary, he was obviously a man of importance.

The Tennis Partner. Rastovorov talked good English, wore expensive American or British suits, sport jackets and slacks. Almost every day, he turned up at the Tokyo Lawn Tennis Club, nattily dressed in white shorts. He played a good game, and among his frequent partners were high-ranking U.S. and Allied diplomats and military men. Everybody knew him as "George." Some asked the amiable George home for dinner. "He was a good drinker and a good eater," said one of his hosts. "But he never talked politics. Not a word." What he did talk about was music (he liked the moderns), sports and, occasionally, his ballet-dancer wife and five-year-old daughter back in Russia.

George was a spy. Whenever he played tennis, a Japanese policeman stood outside the court watching until he left, jumped on his bicycle and pedaled furiously for the nearest police box to report direction of his car or taxi. George's chief mission was to spy on U.S. and Japanese forces. George cultivated a wide acquaintance among Tokyo's swarming streetwalkers, who have a wide acquaintance among G.I.s. His favorite haunt was The Forbidden City, a Chinese restaurant popular with servicemen. He was, U.S. Intelligence agents well knew, a lieutenant colonel in Beria's MVD.

When Beria fell seven months ago, a change came over George. "Old Georgie seemed definitely in a funk the last few times I saw him," said a Western acquaintance. He had reason to be. Four weeks ago, a Russian team arrived in Japan for the world's speed-skating championships. They reserved an extra seat on the way back--for George. He had had orders to return to Moscow.

Last week, four days after Georgie was scheduled to leave, the Russians at the Badger's Den distressedly called the police and asked them please to find George. He was "mentally weak," perhaps had suffered "a nervous breakdown," they said. All they knew was that the day before his planned departure, George had said he was going to do some last-minute shopping, and before their eyes, swung aboard a U.S. Security Forces bus.

Off to Okinawa. The fact was that Rastovorov had gone to U.S. Intelligence agents and asked for political sanctuary. Last week, as rumors of a spy ring among high Japanese officials whirled through the Japanese press and panicky Russians cried that U.S. agents had captured him, Rastovorov was hustled aboard a U.S. plane and flown to Okinawa. "The intelligence equivalent of Midway or a Normandy," crowed a U.S. officer.

It was too soon to know whether Rastovorov would prove quite that good. But as Russia's chief spy in Japan, he could unmask every facet of the organization run from the Badger's Den. The very thought was enough to throw panic into its denizens. They hastily notified the Japanese government that seven of them were leaving immediately for Russia. Two of them, said an intelligence officer, were George's closest friends.

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