The Prepper Broadcasting Network - IWCF 050 Trial by Fear

Episode Date: July 17, 2026

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Communist for the FBI. Starring Dana Andrews and an exciting tale of danger and espionage, I was a communist for the FBI. From the actual records and authentic experiences of Matt Severic, how many of the incidents in this unusual story, Here is our star, Dana Andrews, as Matt Cibetic, who for nine fantastic years lived as a communist for the FBI. We are so accustomed to trial by jury that we forget

it is one of our God-given privileges guaranteed by our Constitution and the Bill of Rights. In our way of life, a man is innocent until he is found guilty. But unfortunately, there are other ways of life, dark, devious ways in which men and women are not tried in a court of justice. justice, but in a temple of fear and terror. No jury deliberates the crime, for the trial is a crime in itself. This is the story of one such trial and a terrible sentence that was passed. In a moment, listen to Dana Andrews as Matt Savatic, undercover man. This story from the confidential file is marked, Trial by Fear.

Commies and cats have a lot in common. They can slink in the shadows, unseen, but all-seeing. When they strike, they strike fast and sure. When they have time to toy with a victim, the torture is deliberate and slow. Like homeless alley-cats, these commies sought the darkness of abandoned cellars for meeting places. We were huddled in one such dungeon now, watching the cat's toy with a mouse. My eyes were just becoming accustomed to the dim light of the cellar under the world. warehouse on front street. I'd never been here before. As far as I was concerned,

Comrade Elliott didn't have to bother inviting me again. It was a cold, dank place. In the gloomy half-light, the shadows of the men look like grotesque monsters. I saw now that Comrade Peterson had three goons with him. They weren't monsters at all. Just ordinary-looking plug-uglies, entertaining a friend. The fist was Peterson's. The jaw was the jaw of a... a thin, white-faced man I'd never seen before. Comrade Peterson had this squad well-organized, Acevedic. Yeah.

What's it all about, really? Wait and watch. It should be most instructive. All right, comrade, it's to work. The doans were well-organized, all right. They all leaped on their victim and proceeded to hit him with fists and fats. And when he fell to the floor, they used their shoes on him. Because they're digging my nails into my palms.

All right, man. That's enough. You've never been here before, have you, Savick? No. I didn't know the party allowed spectators in the execution, James. Do I detect sarcasm in your tone, comrade? Well, just a statement of fact, Comrade, Elliot. Do you expect that man to come out of this alive? Maybe. Maybe not.

What did he do? He was a traitor. Aren't we all? A traitor to the party, Svetic. There's a difference. This is Charlie. We were beginning to worry about you. Where are you calling from?

A booth in my hotel. I just finished my report, and I'm checking on the drop. Use P.O. Box 231. Same name. How's everything? Someone got it last night from the Goon Squad. My report has the details. Yes, we know about the man.

A report makes gruesome reading, I'll bet. Well, take care. The toughest part of this job of mine was the business of filing detailed reports to the FBI. They took time, too much time. Time for alert commies to grow suspicious. Still, this report had to be written. So I tapped it up in my hotel room, sealed it in an envelope.

Then I walked out into the hall with my briefcase. Though you were a communist 24 hours a day, sometimes you spent eight hours a day at a job where the party placed you. And sometimes you even made a living at it. The job that made me seem legitimate was that of insurance salesmen. I reached the letter box, which was near the elevator. I was about to place my letter in the slot. Mailing a letter, Svedic?

I was. Anything wrong in mailing a letter, Elliot? I told you last night, Comrade Svetic, you're inclined to be sarcastic. You know, Comrade Peterson, don't you? You saw him at work last night. Yes, I certainly did. Hello, Comrade. Let me see that letter.

Ah, wait a minute. I see this letter's addressed to Mr. George Harrison box 231 city. Personal spedict. No. Business. Insurance business. Insurance business, eh?

That's right. Addressed to a post office box. Now listen, you two. If you've got any suspicions, open the letter and read it. Here. Heavy. It does feel like an insurance policy

at that, doesn't it, Peterson? Well... Well, uh... Well, what? Go on, open it. If you think that it... Well, that's... Thick enough to be an insurance policy.

Oh, no. No. Oh, it isn't an insurance policy at all, Peterson. It's a private report to the FBI. That makes you feel better, and that satisfy your suspicions? All right, all right. All right, Svetic, forget the sarcasm. Then suppose you forget this foolishness.

If you have any reason to suspect me of anything, let's have it out right now. No. No, take it easy. Here, mail your letter. Thanks. I still don't like you're snatching a letter out of my hand. And I still don't like your tone, Comrade Svedic. Perhaps you'll tell us what you're doing here in the hotel.

I just left an insurance prospect, room 712, if you'd like to check on it. I see. Quite a coincidence meeting here, isn't it? Is it? My insurance business takes me all over. How about you and Comrade Peterson? Our business takes us all over, too. Right, Peterson?

Yeah. All over. Goodbye for now, Comrade Svetting. If they had called my bluff, if they had opened that letter, I'd have been the next guest to be entertained by the Goon Squad. That report was dynamite, and I was glad to be rid of it, or at least almost rid of it. I still had one copy to dispose of, a copy to be placed in a safe deposit box at the bank, in case the original went astray.

It's too late to do it now, but the first thing the next morning I set out to get the job done. It was the kind of morning that made you forget about reds, treachery and vicious intrigue. Sun was warm, the air was crisp and clear. The bank was just a short walk down the street. But a quick glance over my shoulder convinced me that I needed a ride.

Comrade Elliot was just a few paces behind me. Just at that moment a bus came to a stop, and I got home. The bus wouldn't take me anywhere near the bank, but it could take me away from the kami who was tailing me. And Elliot, by Kami Shadow,

was looking after it ruefully. from the sidewalk. I got off at the next stop. There was a large department store in this corner. I went through the revolving door and out the auto entrance where I caught a cab. First National Bank, please. I knew I was safe.

I'd been too fast for Comrade Elliot. I leaned back to enjoy the taxi ride. A.R. driver. Into the bank. Walked over to the window where I'd have to sign a slip to gain access to my seat. safe deposit box. There were several people ahead of me, then another person joined the line. I felt a tap on my shoulder. I wheeled around. Hello, Spedick. We meet again.

I, yeah, it's quite a coincidence, isn't it? Yes, isn't it? Another coincidence. Your next, Smetick. I just wanted to get this $20 bill changed. You're on the wrong line, Spenick. Oh, yeah, sure enough. Statements and safety deposit boxes. I just wanted the cashier. Excuse me. I stepped over to the next line, the $20 bill in my hand. I hadn't shaken Elliot at all. Perhaps he had a car somewhere. And I wondered if he'd swallowed the story about the wrong line. He stood there watching me with his steel gray eyes,

waiting for me to get my change. All set, Spedek? Yeah, all set. I didn't have any small change with me. It gives my last bit of change on the bus. Yes, I saw you on the bus. You drove up here in a taxi. No, I'll...

That bus was too slow. I wanted to get to the bank before it closed. You know, comrade, you behave like a capitalist. You take taxis to a bank just to get some change. Is there anything in the communist manifesto that says we shouldn't take a taxi? Or get change at a bank? You're sarcastic again, Comrade Svetty. To tell you the truth, Comrade, Elliot.

I didn't like you following me. You said it was a coincidence. Coincidence. How long are you going to keep that up? All right. It wasn't a coincidence. I want to talk to you. About what?

About a special cell meeting tonight at seven. Special meeting? Why didn't I hear about it? You're hearing about it now. Let's go. I have a car waiting. Hey, Elliot! The meeting is a vital concern to you, Svetik.

Especially you. Me? Why me? Elliot, what the devil happened? No, I'm sorry, Peterson. Our comrade here became surprisingly elusive. I wanted to be sure I found him. Well, you found him, and I found you.

Now, let's go. Right. You too, Svetic. Well, I'm sorry, but I got a few errors to turn off. No, Spetting. The errands can wait. The party cannot. The meeting's denied.

It's still early. I want to be sure you don't miss it's vetting. Come on. All right, comrades. All right. Let's call the meeting to order now. Now, I suppose all of you are wondering why we're meeting like this. On-schedual meeting, last-minute announcements, that sort of thing.

Well, our cell convenes tonight, comrades, to root out. a traitor. Our reasons for suspicion were discovered suddenly. Hence we meet suddenly. And one of us is about to be disciplined suddenly. Comrades,

one member of this cell is an undercover agent for the FBI. Oh, Comrade, Rao! Yes. What is it, Semitic? Are you sure of your evidence? After all, to accuse a comrade unjustly, would be... Never fears, Syvedic. The punishment will fit the crime.

But every member of this cell is a checked, double-checked? And checked again. That's how we found our traitor. Unfortunately, the FBI places its spies at the most inconvenient stations for us. This time, however, we're about to show some inconvenience to that spy. Comrade Zavetic, would you mind stepping forward, please?

Andrew, starring as Matt Sevedic. and I was a communist for the FBI and the second act of our story. A special cell meeting to ferret out an FBI agent, a spy, a traitor, an enemy to the cause of the communes. Now the reds were ready to point the finger

to place the agent on trial, a trial in which the sentence is pronounced before any evidence is presented. The ancient Romans had trials like that when Nero taught Christians to the lion. Today's commies don't use lions. They have their goon squads. I think what's the red goon boys in action.

I knew what would happen to that agent. And I knew, too, who that agent was. From the way our cell leader, Comrade Rolfe, stared at me. I was sure that he knew, too. Sit over here, comrades of a attic near me. Thanks. Now, naturally, comrades, the spy in our midst will be submitted to the usual liquidation

ceremonies. Comrade, Rob. Yes, Comrade Ellies. How long has this five been with it?

It doesn't matter. His reign of secrecy ends tonight. Peterson. Yes, Comrade. Your man are ready? Always, comrade. I turned around

and looked through the connecting door he opened. The Goom Squad was there, all right. In full force, the same three men with the heavy square faces and battered ears

and thick callous knuckles. All of us in the room stared. And then the door closed. Elliot. Yeah. Lock the out of door.

Savetic, stop fidgeting. Stay here. Yeah. Comrade Hugo. Yes? You're assigned to Comrade Dora today. What is your report? Well, Comrade Dora is not to be suspected, Conrad Rout.

I want to report, Hugo. A report, not an editorial comment. There's nothing to report. You're instructed to trace Dora's activities. Did you or did you not obey these instructions? Yes, of course I did. Then report on them, please. Yeah.

Quiet. All of you, quiet. Report, Hugo. Comrade Dora went to work at the mill as usual. She was five minutes early, which she spent in conversation with fellow workers. Go on. She took a five-minute break in the middle of the morning. Lunchtime, she joined Comrade Anna in the cafeteria.

I sent a message to her about this meeting on a paper napkin. The napkin was destroyed? Yeah, she burned it. Then she reported sick and was dismissed from work for the day. No conversations with strangers, no telephone call? No. How do you know?

Because I work in the same section of the floor with her. I was able to observe her at all times. Comrade Milo. Yes. Give me the report on Comrade Philip. And I was stationed at the switchboard in our office. I was able to monitor all calls, including those made by Comrade Philip. And what calls did he make?

Ordinary business calls. One called to his insurance agent, one to his wife. What about those ordinary business calls? Their content was of no concerns of the party, Comrade. The party is concerned with everything, Milo. Well, these calls were innocuous enough. Salesman's reports, dickering with out-of-town clients, checking the status of the market.

That's all the thing. Did Philip have any visitors? Only from persons previously cleared by the party. I'd say Comrade Philip is above suspicious. Good. Comrade, Elliot. Yeah? Just a minute.

Your report, Elliot. Oh, wait a minute. This is no time for interruptions. I have a question to ask. Has it anything to do with the business at hand? Everything. Obviously, Comrade Rolf, you've assigned picked men to follow and report

on members of this cell. Obviously. May I ask why? That too is obvious, Savitt. Not to me, it isn't. Well, it should be. After my announcement of a few minutes ago. You said there was an undercover agent here?

Yes. You mean exclusive of the picked man you sent out to spy on us? I don't like your choice of language, Svederey. Well, comrades, I appeal to you. Some of you are suspected of a grave party crime. You're spied upon, and Comrade Rolf is collecting the reports. But what about the men who spied upon you?

Are they not to be suspected? How do we know they are above suspicion? I was fighting fire with fire, trying to create a diversion, trying to stop Comrade Elliot from giving his report on me. I was fighting fire with fire all right, hoping to build myself a smokescreen that I didn't get burned first.

I wanted to throw a doubt in every member of the commission before Comrade Elliot gave his report on me where I was afraid of that report. Quiet! All of you, quiet, I say! Quiet! Oh, Savatic! Am I to understand that you question my man?

the men who gathered reports for me? If you suspected unimpeachable party workers like comrades Dora and Philip, why couldn't your men be suspected too? Comrade Ball. Yes, Comrade. May I say, Comrade, that I have nothing to hide? From the moment I joined the party, I became a communist heart and soul. I've never faltered.

Now, I have never questioned the policies of the political law. I'm proud to have been investigated and exonerated. I say long live the Workers' Republic. Comrade Roots. What is it, my lord? I agree with Comrade Dora. I, too, am proud to pass the legs. I intend to pass every place the party puts to me.

I intend to serve a party with every thought and deep. This was beginning to sound like a revival meeting. Instead of hallelujahs, the red chanted party slogans. They shouted, sang, fought to demonstrate their hysterical dedication to the cross. Maybe, maybe, maybe if the excitement mounted enough, if Comrade Rolf was swept along with this wild demonstration, he might forget to question Comrade Elliot about me. All right, comrades, all right, order, enough of this.

Comrades, enough of it! Now, now then, we'll continue. Comrade Elliot, here. Your report on Comrade Savetic, please. That is, if Cervetic has no further obstructing, as tactics for this meeting. I, uh, I followed Svedic to the bank. He seemed upset when he saw me.

Claimed he'd gone to the bank for change, but he'd taken a taxi to do it. Stood in the wrong line. He... Yes, Comrade Tavittick is an unpredictable man, all right. Is there more to report on him? No. Comrade Peterson.

Yes. Your report on Comrade Elliott. I've checked on the actions all week. I've gone through his personal belongings. I've checked his phone calls. Twice this week, Comrade Elliott has attempted to establish contact with a local FBI officer. Comrades! That supports the evidence the control commission has on the good Comrade Elliot.

Anything to say, Elliot? Nothing. Nothing at all. One moment. One moment. Savetic? Yes. Stand up. His business is... far from over, you know. Peterson, bring in the disciplinary squad, please. We're walking in now,

walking across the room headed straight for me. Your instructions, comrades. You'll take Elliot to the car waiting behind the building. You'll drive him to the Hilton Avenue underpass and take the long way to the usual place. Spend his little time in that miserable cellar as possible, but make the job complete. As for comrades, Sovetic. You Sovetic will see that these instructions are carried out. Irony. Bitter, diabolical irony.

It ties logic into nuts, and it twists your nerves till they snap. It turns truth into terror. Comrade Elliot, the man I thought was my enemy, was actually my ally. I was so sure he'd been putting the finger on me that I couldn't see that he was under the thumb of the common. Tommy goons. But now that I knew, it was too late. Could I do? How could I prevent the inevitable from happening? I looked at the grim, heavy faces around me. Peterson, the number one muscle man, the three brass knuckle virtuosos who committed mayhem to his order. I looked at Elliot,

but he was staring out the car window, his face expressionless. There's the underpass, Vedic, warehouse is just beyond it. You know the way to the cellar? I've been there before, you know. Yeah, I know. You better stop here. All right, Elliot. Out.

We headed toward the warehouse, through the deserted rooms, and into the damp, dismal basement. Execution chamber, I had called it. And now, Elliot was about to become the latest victim. Escape? There wasn't any. And Elliot knew that as well as I did.

In here. Through this fire, Dawn. Turn on the light, somebody. Do you need a light for this job, Peterson? No, but it helps. Yeah, Rod. Never mind the light, gentlemen. We have flashlights.

Who's that? Over here, Elliot. Now, you guys stay put. You've got the brass knuckles, but we have the gun. Who are you? Cops. Colleagues, Evaliant. We work out of the same office. But you can't hold us for anything.

We haven't done anything. We can hold you, Svetich. And we can hold Peterson and his chum. Oh, what? We haven't done anything? Yes, for murder. The last guy you worked on in this massage parlor didn't pull through. Remember?

Come on. Martin and the other FBI men had waited a long time for the Reds to return to the dungeon scene of their other crimes. They've been waiting ever since they received my report. The report I almost didn't mail. Naturally, I was hauled in for questioning, too. But I hadn't figured in the killing, so I was released. Still alive, still unsuspected by the Reds. But for how long?

One day I might walk the same path that Elliot did, and maybe I wouldn't be as lucky. Maybe, well, you can't help thinking thoughts like that when you live with treachery, when you mix with commies, when you walk alone. Dana Andrews will return in just a moment. This is Dana Andrews, friend.

A great number of years ago, Daniel Webster stood up in Congress and made a speech about the Declaration of Independence. Whatever may be our fate, he said, be assured that this declaration will stand. All that I have and all that I am and all that I hope in this life, I'm now ready to stake upon it.

Live or die, survive or perish. I am for the declaration. It was Webster's attitude, friends, that made our country free. That attitude is the only attitude that can keep it free. In the story you've just heard, names, dates, and places are fictitious to protect innocent persons. Many of these stories are based on incidents in the life of Matt Zavetic, who worked undercover for the FBI.

Next week, another fantastic adventure. Join us then, won't you?