Authors: Benjamin Weiser
Tags: #History, #Europe, #Germany, #World, #True Crime, #Espionage
A Secret Life (31 page)
This task was easier in Warsaw than in other East bloc capitals. Budapest had checkpoints at the edge of the city, and the Hungarian police made note of drivers with diplomatic plates as they entered and left. Warsaw had no such checkpoints, but there were unexpected hazards. For example, CIA officers on SDRs tried to avoid bridges because of concern that the SB had attached magnetic devices to the underside of their cars; the devices could trip a stationary beacon on a bridge and reveal the officers’ position. Even heavy traffic could pose a problem. One night, Gilbertson was driving through the countryside before an exchange with Gull when he saw a convoy of Russian military vehicles blocking traffic. Gilbertson sat anxiously as the minutes passed. When the convoy finally moved, he sped back to Warsaw but was three minutes late for the exchange, and Gull was gone.
In another exchange, Gilbertson saw the headlights of an approaching car in his rearview mirror just as Gull extended his hand inside his window. Gilbertson hit the accelerator as Gull yanked back his hand. Gilbertson turned at the corner and almost hit a Polish police car.
One Friday, before an exchange, Burggraf visited the Fluffy Duck, the bar in the basement of the Australian Embassy. As patrons played darts, Burggraf talked with friends and drank ginger ale. Before long, she realized the miniature radio receiver in her ear was gone. She had not heard the device hit the ground, but she knew she had entered the bar with it. She told her friends she had dropped “an ear thing,” trying to sound a bit embarrassed as she explained that a doctor had given her something for an earache. Soon her friends and other bar patrons were on their knees helping her look for it. Finally, Burggraf stood up, lifted her glass, and realized the earpiece had fallen into her ginger ale. Excusing herself to use the restroom, she cleaned off the device and was relieved to find that it still worked.
Burggraf did not always know the details of the intelligence Gull was providing to the CIA. As she once put it, “Washington controlled the operation. They were the history and the memory. We were the facilitators on the stage.”
In early March 1980, Kulikov arrived again in Warsaw, this time with a resolution appointing Leonid Brezhnev as supreme commander of the Warsaw Pact. Unlike the way Kulikov had handled his proposed wartime statute, which underwent extensive debate in the Warsaw Pact militaries, he was pushing the Brezhnev resolution through without prior consultation. He had the signature of the East German leader, Erich Honecker, and Kuklinski was told to prepare a “talking points” paper for Edward Gierek, who became the second East European leader to sign the document. Kuklinski made a copy for the CIA.
On April 13, Kuklinski gave the CIA seventeen new rolls of film that included more than 555 images from twenty-eight documents. One nineteen-page paper, stamped “Secret of Special Importance,” summarized what he had learned in Moscow on a recent trip to review war-planning matters.
He described another set of Russian documents, totaling ninety-two pages, that listed recommendations from the Warsaw Pact command dealing with the organizational structure of armies and fronts in wartime. “It is a very detailed report containing a complete list of people, methods of communication, automation, security and so on,” he wrote. “This system will be implemented in all the armies of the Warsaw Pact in the next five-year period (1981-1985).”
Kuklinski said that the past two months had been exhausting, and that he was still having trouble concentrating. But he claimed he felt “safer and surer” of himself, his superiors continued to praise him, and at times, he had thought about retiring. He was looking forward to a five-week vacation starting in July, when he hoped to travel with Hanka and participate in a yacht race to Soviet ports. “Please accept my assurances,” he wrote, “that on my part, I will continue to do everything in my power, in accordance with my strength and capabilities, to support activity for true freedom and progress. I extend very warm greetings to all my friends, with Daniel at the top.”
The April 13 car exchange was “all in all, the smoothest we’ve done in the past 21 months,” Warsaw Station cabled Langley. The CIA reassured Kuklinski that all of his films were accounted for. With greater economic and political tension in Poland, the agency wrote, American Embassy personnel were under increased surveillance by the Poles. The agency reminded Kuklinski that if an officer detected surveillance or observed something on the way to an exchange that might interfere with a smooth and unseen hand-off, the officer would drive past the site.
If, however, while making our final approach we should suddenly detect surveillance or anything suspicious we will continue on by the site without hesitation. We continue to ask that you be particularly cautious and observant in the immediate area of the exchange point, which we cannot see until the final moments of our approach. If you note anything suspicious, please leave at once.
In a “Daniel” letter, the agency said it shared Kuklinski’s frustration over the approval of the wartime statute. “It’s probably very little consolation,” the letter said, “but I realize, and I’m sure that you agree, that no matter how many compromises must be made in the name of practicality, no document, including this one, can ever break the indomitable spirit of the Polish people.”
In the spring of 1980, Soviet Division Chief George Kalaris sent a memo to the CIA’s Qualitative Step Increase/Honor and Merit Awards Panel and asked that a Distinguished Intelligence Medal be struck, though nameless, for presentation to a sensitive source. “The medal will be retained at headquarters for safekeeping,” Kalaris wrote. According to a CIA document, John N. McMahon, then DDO, endorsed the idea directly to Director Stansfield Turner. Turner responded: “I herewith concur in your oral suggestion that a Distinguished Intelligence Medal be awarded to Gull.”
In April, Warsaw Station and Langley continued to explore ways to reduce pressure on Kuklinski. One memo proposed decreasing the frequency of exchanges with Gull, which Warsaw Station called the “most dangerous aspect of our cooperation together.” The operation had averaged six exchanges a year, or one every two months, plus the exchanges for which Kuklinski prepared but that had to be aborted. “It is probably last-minute preparations, both physical and psychological, that wear out Gull,” Warsaw Station wrote. The CIA weighed a temporary suspension of the operation, for up to six months. Warsaw Station said it believed that with Kuklinski’s confidence and “healthy ego,” a brief halt in the operation might upset him, but headquarters wrote to the field: “Do not believe he will react badly to our expression of concern for his well-being, and our suggestion of brief respite.”
In late April the Soviet Division cabled Daniel in Vienna. “Wish to inform you that we have just received the director’s approval to present a Distinguished Intelligence Medal to your old friend,” the message said. Daniel responded the next day.
“Deeply grateful for . . . news about an old friend,” he wrote. “Thank you very much. Daniel will be ready to go anywhere, anytime.”
On April 24, General Siwicki, the chief of staff, asked Kuklinski to join him on a trip to Moscow, which had been approved by party leader Gierek. Siwicki was going to raise an issue of major concern to the Polish leadership: that Soviet negotiators had understated Polish troop strength in the Vienna arms talks. Siwicki carried with him a document that said Poland, “guided by a desire to contribute to the progress of the negotiations,” wanted to correct the record. The number of Polish troops should be increased by about 13,000, to take into account the soldiers attached to military academies, rear-echelon elements, depots, warships, and railroads. But in May, Moscow rejected Poland’s request. Kuklinski felt the rejection was frustrating, if typical. But Siwicki’s invitation to Moscow had reassured him that he was still in good standing.
On Saturday, June 7, the night before his next exchange with the CIA, Kuklinski was in his study watching the popular American mini-series
Rich Man, Poor Man
. When it ended, he picked up his pen and began a note to Daniel.
Rich Man, Poor Man
. When it ended, he picked up his pen and began a note to Daniel.
This film is one of the few shows on TV for which I wait, and time permitting, enjoy. I am sure that you know that I am not talking about the interesting plot, fascinating heroes, acting of the actors or technical mastery―even though these are important―but that above all, I am talking about that certain topography, customs, and landscape of a country in which I have sincere friends, to whose fate I have tied my own fate, for better or worse, forever.From here, it is only a step to recollections and reflections, to the exchange of thoughts with you.
Kuklinski wrote that Daniel’s last letter, with its encouraging view of the future, had boosted his morale.
This is a beautiful vision of the future, but will the world, poisoned by the message-bearing doctrines, have enough common sense and strength to resist them, not speaking even of pushing them back into a position of defense? As you know, Daniel, from my many statements on these matters, I do not belong to the optimists, even though I must admit that when eight years ago I made some sort of statement to the representatives of the U.S. armed forces, my perception of developments on the global political stage appeared to be even of darker colors.However, taking this step in 1972, almost five years after the Tet Offensive in Vietnam, and not quite four years after Soviet aggression in Czechoslovakia, I was fully aware that I was actively committing myself on the side of the constantly shrinking forces defending the free world against the expansion of communism― and this was the main reason for my decision concerning permanent cooperation.The subsequent run of events, whether in Indochina, Africa, on the American continent or the latest in Iran and Afghanistan, not only are unable to weaken my spirit―of which you mention in your letter―but I can assure you to the utmost, they strengthen my will for further and even more effective activity.Dear Daniel! It was a great honor and at the same time a tremendous satisfaction to learn from your letter that the materials which I have forwarded in the course of years did not end their lives in CIA safes, but were the source of inspiration for many important decisions made on the highest level of American leadership circles and aimed at stopping Soviet aggression in the world. I thank you for this, and I can only reassure you, that I shall endure in these efforts and endeavors to the end, as long as this will be possible and serving a purpose.
Kuklinski expressed confidence in the security of their “magnificent collaboration.” He had been hearing from others that he might be promoted to brigadier general, which he knew should fill him with optimism. He admitted that this was not always the case.
Frequently sleep comes at the time when it is time to get up and go to work. And again, four large mugs of coffee, two, three packs of cigarettes―and the cycle repeats itself. The only harbor where I really feel good is my home, which with my wife, and children already grown, creates a climate of warmth, peace and relaxation not possible to duplicate. We all enjoy this but only I am aware of how little is needed to lay in ruins this peace and family happiness.My dear, cordial friend: study my situation calmly, show me the ways to overcome the crisis in making. I know only that I see no chance to lessen our friendship. I would not want to terminate our collaboration. I don’t believe that I would feel well in the role of a retired colonel watering flowers in his garden. On a more distant horizon, yes. I am dreaming of venturing into the world on a yacht, reaching your great country and meeting you. But this is a very distant perspective.
Kuklinski reported that his car was in a repair shop. “It is costing me quite a sum of money and health. However, I would like to keep it for a few more years.” He continued to enjoy his house. “I am completely satisfied. There is a small garden and much joy when plants get green and flowers begin to bloom.”
In the exchange on June 8, Kuklinski delivered a new set of films, which included a critique of a Warsaw Pact General Staffs exercise called “Spring 80,” notes from consultations in Moscow concerning Soviet airborne divisions and their communications equipment, and a twenty-eight-page document detailing Jaruzelski’s talks in Moscow with Defense Minister Ustinov.
Over the next few weeks, the CIA tried to analyze Kuklinski’s psychological state, and on June 30, headquarters cabled Warsaw Station that “Kuklinski’s continuing commitment to a mutual cause” was evident in his last letter to Daniel. “However, what also is very obvious is the fact that he is physically and mentally exhausted. And this, of course, is a threat to his security,” the CIA said.
Other books
Kiss Me Like You Mean It by Dr. David Clarke
Sour Apples by Sheila Connolly
Servants of the Map by Andrea Barrett
Luke Jensen, Bounty Hunter by William W. Johnstone
Tiempos de gloria by David Brin
Moonlight Surrender (Moonlight Book 3) by Ferrarella, Marie
The Resurrection of Tess Blessing by Lesley Kagen
Remote Consequences by Kerri Nelson
Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey by Adrienne Dillard
The Gamble (I) by Lavyrle Spencer
