actually ran the operation knew and weighed the danger. But they also knew that the Soviets were already engaged in full-scale research and production of nerve gases. The competition between the two countries to develop newer and more lethal nerve gases was already a reality. Because of that, the officials in Washington reasoned, it was worth the risk to try to lead the Soviets down an expensive false trail.
Another ex-FBI official said the scientists had reassured the bureau that the formula could safely be passed. “We were assured it wouldn’t work,” he said. “So it sounds great and looks great, but it will break down at the end. It was made in the lab but never put into production.” Had the bureau considered the risks? “Yes,” he replied, “they did, but since they were assured it wouldn’t work, they felt it would be OK.”
One of those who worried about where the operation might lead was Henry Anthony Strecker, who served in a senior post in army intelligence at the time.³
The whole business made Harry Strecker nervous. “I remember sitting in on a bureau briefing with Gene Peterson where they talked about an operation out of Edgewood,” he said. “We called it
spiel
material, which means ‘play’ material. I remember a nerve gas we didn’t make. Someone at the briefing expressed concern that if we drove the Soviets to looking into a bogus formula, is there a legitimate concern we might drive them to a breakthrough we don’t want them to have?”
C H A P T E R: 7
WASHINGTON GAME
Early in 1966, Cassidy began passing the false information about nerve gas to Mikhail Danilin. From the Soviet embassy in Washington, the disturbing intelligence about GJ, the powerful new chemical weapon developed by the United States, was relayed to Moscow.
The deception phase of Operation SHOCKER continued for three and a half years, until July 1969. Throughout this period, the GRU pressed for more information about the new nerve gas, and Cassidy obliged with more documents—some real, some fake.
Cassidy’s importance to the Russians had suddenly increased spectacularly. New, more secure arrangements were needed to pass the vital film coming out of Edgewood and to transmit instructions to the sergeant. In March 1966, Danilin unveiled to Cassidy two kinds of spy paraphernalia that were to be used for communication between them.
First, he introduced Cassidy to microdots—tiny, circular specks of film on which vast amounts of data could be reduced to a size no bigger than a printed period. He was to receive future instructions on microdots, Danilin explained. To enable Cassidy to enlarge the microdots to make them legible, Danilin gave him a portable microdot reader.
At the same meeting, Danilin gave Cassidy a short course on how to make an artificial, hollow rock. From that time on, Danilin said, the GRU’s microdots and the rollover cameras from Cassidy were to be exchanged inside fake rocks. The rocks, he explained, needed to be so realistic-looking that they could safely be left in a park, in the woods, or even on a street.
“He told me how to take the rollover camera and wrap it in waxpaper, then tinfoil over that, and then cover it with plaster of paris. Plaster of paris is a gray powder.You add water and mix it in a bucket,and it has the consistency of dough or Spackle.You mold it around the tinfoil and let it harden.It made a coatinga bout aquarter of an inch thick.It would dry in an hour.Sometimes I’d rubsand or dirt in it.The rocks were light gray, or darker.”Cassidy quickly became expert at fashioning the phony rocks. Toany casual observer, they were in distinguishable from real ones.
Now the meetings and exchanges of material between Danilin and Cassidy began to follow a set procedure, a sort of espionage ballet. The choreography seldom varied.
“First I would go to a drop site and leave my rock, with the rollover camera inside. The drop sites were listed in the instructions. A lot of them
Another ex-FBI official said the scientists had reassured the bureau that the formula could safely be passed. “We were assured it wouldn’t work,” he said. “So it sounds great and looks great, but it will break down at the end. It was made in the lab but never put into production.” Had the bureau considered the risks? “Yes,” he replied, “they did, but since they were assured it wouldn’t work, they felt it would be OK.”
One of those who worried about where the operation might lead was Henry Anthony Strecker, who served in a senior post in army intelligence at the time.³
The whole business made Harry Strecker nervous. “I remember sitting in on a bureau briefing with Gene Peterson where they talked about an operation out of Edgewood,” he said. “We called it
spiel
material, which means ‘play’ material. I remember a nerve gas we didn’t make. Someone at the briefing expressed concern that if we drove the Soviets to looking into a bogus formula, is there a legitimate concern we might drive them to a breakthrough we don’t want them to have?”
C H A P T E R: 7
WASHINGTON GAME
Early in 1966, Cassidy began passing the false information about nerve gas to Mikhail Danilin. From the Soviet embassy in Washington, the disturbing intelligence about GJ, the powerful new chemical weapon developed by the United States, was relayed to Moscow.
The deception phase of Operation SHOCKER continued for three and a half years, until July 1969. Throughout this period, the GRU pressed for more information about the new nerve gas, and Cassidy obliged with more documents—some real, some fake.
Cassidy’s importance to the Russians had suddenly increased spectacularly. New, more secure arrangements were needed to pass the vital film coming out of Edgewood and to transmit instructions to the sergeant. In March 1966, Danilin unveiled to Cassidy two kinds of spy paraphernalia that were to be used for communication between them.
First, he introduced Cassidy to microdots—tiny, circular specks of film on which vast amounts of data could be reduced to a size no bigger than a printed period. He was to receive future instructions on microdots, Danilin explained. To enable Cassidy to enlarge the microdots to make them legible, Danilin gave him a portable microdot reader.
At the same meeting, Danilin gave Cassidy a short course on how to make an artificial, hollow rock. From that time on, Danilin said, the GRU’s microdots and the rollover cameras from Cassidy were to be exchanged inside fake rocks. The rocks, he explained, needed to be so realistic-looking that they could safely be left in a park, in the woods, or even on a street.
“He told me how to take the rollover camera and wrap it in waxpaper, then tinfoil over that, and then cover it with plaster of paris. Plaster of paris is a gray powder.You add water and mix it in a bucket,and it has the consistency of dough or Spackle.You mold it around the tinfoil and let it harden.It made a coatinga bout aquarter of an inch thick.It would dry in an hour.Sometimes I’d rubsand or dirt in it.The rocks were light gray, or darker.”Cassidy quickly became expert at fashioning the phony rocks. Toany casual observer, they were in distinguishable from real ones.
Now the meetings and exchanges of material between Danilin and Cassidy began to follow a set procedure, a sort of espionage ballet. The choreography seldom varied.
“First I would go to a drop site and leave my rock, with the rollover camera inside. The drop sites were listed in the instructions. A lot of them
Similar Books
