State Department Counterintelligence: Leaks, Spies, and Lies

by Robert David Booth

  I did not get the feeling that my warnings were appreciated or understood by Undersecretary Pickering or his staff, but then again they weren’t security specialists, nor were they in the business of implementing regulations that made it difficult for department officers to conduct diplomacy in an open forum. Before leaving, we convinced Pickering that we could offer a sanitized version of our report to department bureau directors in order to alert them to the fact that the building and its personnel were vulnerable to hostile intelligence targeting. Something was better than nothing. Undersecretary Pickering stood up, thanked us for our time, and ushered us out of his office. We had been summarily dismissed with our tails tucked between our legs. For what it was worth, I still had some pride and didn’t let the door hit me on the way out.

  As we walked out of Pickering’s seventh floor office, I turned to Rychak and asked, “They don’t get it, do they?” He didn’t reply.

  Following the meeting with Undersecretary Pickering, John Tello and I provided a number of briefings to department office directors and managers attempting to reinforce the idea that we needed their support in implementing a stronger escort policy. To my surprise and satisfaction, most bureau and office directors immediately instituted additional office-specific safeguards regarding escorts and updated contact reporting briefings to ensure that younger, unsuspecting, and inexperienced FSOs were briefed on how to interact with foreign diplomats, especially those with a shopping list of questions and smiling behind a cup of HST cafeteria coffee.

  With the Russian diplomat building access caper behind us, my attention shifted back to a number of counterintelligence cases that had been put on hold in the interim. However, my diversion from the building’s entry control issues would be short-lived when, in early 1999, I received a telephone call from a senior FBI SSA alerting me to expect a phone call from one of their agents assigned to the Washington Field Office. Shortly thereafter, I received a call from FBI special agent “Andy,” who asked if I’d already been contacted by his headquarters. I calmly said that I had and that I was all ears.

  Andy said that he was prepared to share with me particularly sensitive information but that it could not take place over the telephone but only in a SCIF. I invited Andy to drop by my office (a SCIF) at his earliest convenience. Several days later, he laid out a series of photographs on my desktop that simply astounded me. Andy pointed to a black and white photograph of a middle-aged man sitting on a wooden bench in a nondescript park.

  “That individual is Stanislav Gusev,” he said, “a suspected SVR technical officer serving in Washington under diplomatic cover.”

  I picked up the photograph and inspected it closer. Gusev looked about 5´5˝ tall, slightly balding, with solid white hair and a relaxed pear figure.

  “This picture was taken of Gusev as he sat on a park bench located outside the State Department,” Andy continued.

  Suddenly I recognized the bench and surrounding area. The DS/CI office was located just across Virginia Avenue from the HST. From my office, I could actually see the park bench that was in the FBI photograph. What was going on here? I wondered.

  “How old is the photo?” I asked.

  “It was taken in early 1999.” Tapping his finger on another photo, Andy said, “Look at this picture. Do you see that Gusev has his hand in a black bag placed on top of the park bench?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, it’s the FBI’s belief that the bag contains electronic gear that is being manipulated by Gusev in order to activate a listening device located inside the HST.”

  Now it was my turn to stare and say nothing. Maybe Undersecretary Pickering was just as dumbfounded by the FBI black and white photos I had shown him much earlier. The photographs were taken by specially trained FBI personnel, and they strongly suggested that the SVR was up to its old tricks. I finally asked how the FBI had initially spotted Gusev.

  “A bit of luck, actually,” Andy replied. “A member of one of our FBI surveillance teams who was familiar with the photographs of suspected Washington, DC, based IO’s observed him sitting on a bench located near the HST and alerted his supervisors of his suspicions.” Shortly thereafter, the FBI flooded the area with surveillance teams to confirm if, in fact, the man spotted actually was the SVR intelligence officer Gusev, long of FBI interest. It was indeed!

  According to Andy, the surveillance teams not only confirmed Gusev’s identity, but they also noted that Gusev had a habit of parking his four-door, white Chevrolet Malibu bearing Russian diplomatic plates in the area bordering Twenty-Second and Twenty-Third streets and Virginia Avenue, on the opposite side of the HST’s C Street diplomatic entrance. The FBI team recorded Gusev removing several large, black canvas bags from the car’s trunk, then sitting at one of several park benches facing the building’s northeast façade. The FBI captured on film how Gusev’s hand would disappear inside one or two of the handbags while he manipulated an earpiece firmly attached to the side of his head. Looking at the photos, it appeared as though Gusev was playing a game of one-handed poker; except in this case his gaze never left the building’s façade, and never once did he look directly into the bags.

  Andy explained that this unusual behavior was observed a number of times over a period of several months. One of the funniest episodes caught on video was of one of Gusev’s attempts to pose as a simple tourist passing the time reading a newspaper on a park bench. There was only one problem. During the twelve-minute clip, with one of Gusev’s hands inside the gym bag, he pretended to read a newspaper—but he held it upside down!

  Andy explained that his team recently noticed that Gusev had finished with his bench gymnastics and was now visiting the vicinity of the HST in a whole new mode. As highlighted by FBI photographs and videos, Gusev’s new routine was to drive slowly up Virginia Avenue in his Chevrolet, now sarcastically tagged as the “Malibuski,” in an attempt to find an open parking space with a direct line of sight to the building’s northeast façade. FBI photo examiners noted that a tissue box, which never seemed to move even during turns, was affixed conspicuously to the backseat panel just under the rear window. Instead of taking out black canvas bags, Gusev now took out shiny metal quarters to feed the parking meter and then went on a two-hour walk around the GWU campus.

  The FBI logs noted that Gusev’s visits varied in time but mostly took place in the morning hours during the business week, though for some reason never on a Friday. The only consistent pattern was that he always parked his car with a line of sight of the HST’s northeast façade. Andy pointed out one photograph that captured Gusev reaching with one hand under the car’s dashboard. He explained that Gusev performed the maneuver every time he left the car for his two-hour constitutional. The FBI technical analysts assumed that Gusev was activating some sort of device, one that was not a standard accessory from the Chevrolet parts catalog.

  Andy finished his presentation and leaned back in his chair. He didn’t have to say anything else or review any more photographs or videos with me. The photographic evidence was damning. There was no doubt about it. The SVR had successfully installed a technical device inside the HST.

  I asked Andy, “How many people in the State Department know about the FBI suspicions?”

  He smiled. “Only Secretary of State Madeleine Albright, Deputy Secretary Richard Armitage, A/S David Carpenter, John Tello, and now you.”

  Andy’s purpose in briefing me was to determine if a joint DS/FBI counterespionage team could mount an operation to uncover, exploit, and eventually seize the “bug” and neutralize a Russian intelligence officer to boot. My first concern was how the State Department could, as large and porous as it was, keep such a highly sensitive inquiry from being leaked to the press or, worse, back to the Russians. I was extremely concerned that another media leak à la Felix Bloch would permanently rupture the excellent working relationship we enjoyed with the FBI. It was still widely assumed in the IC that someone in the State Department had thwarted the FBI’s espionage case a
gainst Felix Bloch by indiscreet comments to the press or an intentional tipoff. My other concern was that if our office became actively involved in this investigation, then most of the operational activity would occur inside the building, and the fourteen special agents assigned to my staff would be working long and hard hours. We already had a full investigative caseload, and this case would snow us under even more. I took less than five seconds to give my answer—DS/CI was going to be a player! I fervently hoped that my immediate supervisor, John Tello, who was out that morning, would agree to my pledge of assistance. At worst, he’d likely shake his head in exasperation and go for a long stroll around the GWU campus to let off steam. Maybe he would accidently bump into Gusev!

  Andy returned the photos and logs to his briefcase and promised to get together our first, formal interagency meeting within the next seventy-two hours. Operation Sacred Ibis was about to get underway.

  Chapter Fifteen

  I relayed my conversation with Andy to John Tello upon his return to the office. He smiled, mumbled “Welcome aboard,” and immediately agreed that we needed to assist in the investigation using all possible DS/CI resources at our disposal. I was off the proverbial hook for already committing DS to the case. When we discussed office priorities and resources, I quickly pointed out that my primary job as the office’s deputy would not allow me to run the day-to-day operational aspects of Sacred Ibis. We both agreed to assign the case to SA Paul Gaffney, the office’s branch chief responsible for monitoring hostile intelligence activities in Latin America and Europe.

  As a twenty-year career DS veteran, Paul had been assigned as a section chief in DS/CI after a highly successful tour as the RSO at the US Interests Section in Havana. He had also served in Moscow from 1986 to 1988 in a newly created counterintelligence position within the embassy’s security office.

  During Paul’s tenure in Russia, Marine Security Guard Clayton Lonetree’s espionage efforts on behalf of the SVR were uncovered. Since a significant portion of Sergeant Lonetree’s activities occurred in Moscow, Paul was responsible for coordinating the department’s participation in the multiagency espionage investigation—something he would have to do with Sacred Ibis. Paul and I had served together on Secretary of State Alexander Haig’s protective security detail in the early 1980s, and I had total confidence in his judgment and was comfortable with his personality and temperament. He was an ideal fit for the job from my perspective. It was also quite fortunate for us that he wasn’t married at the time because for the next few months, he would have to sacrifice his evenings and weekends to the mission at hand. Once briefed, Paul readily agreed to lead the investigation.

  The first order of business was to determine exactly where in the HST the SVR had planted its transmitter. Initially Paul worked alone in obtaining the building’s blueprints and floor plans in order to identify every nook and cranny on the northeast side of the building. “Discretion” and “secrecy” were every counterintelligence officer’s watchwords as we had learned from bitter experience. In previous investigations, when DS/CI agents asked department officers questions or requested documents, the inevitable rumors and gossip quickly emerged, destroying any chance of confidentiality. People naturally talk, yet Paul managed to avoid drawing undue attention to his work. He painstakingly identified those offices in which classified information would likely be discussed since we not-so-cleverly surmised that the SVR transmitter had to be located in an office in which sensitive conversations took place. A cursory review of the HST’s floor plans revealed a significant amount of square footage occupied by restrooms, hallways, stairwells, utility closets, elevators, storage rooms, open seating areas, and public office spaces. Fortunately Paul’s survey concluded that the actual number of potential conference rooms and individual offices, referred to as “target spaces,” was not that large.

  Once the target spaces were identified, the FBI determined that it was time to resort to technical detection measures. This part of the operation was successful due to the excellent help of Joan Lombardi, DS’s executive officer, who made available office space for the technical countermeasures aspect of Sacred Ibis without raising any eyebrows. The exact nature of this help remains classified. However, less than forty-eight hours after activation, suspect radio emanations from a location near a window on the seventh floor of the HST’s northeast façade were detected. The next morning, John Tello, John “Fitz” Fitzsimmons, our valued security engineering officer, and I sat down with our FBI colleagues to determine the next course of action based on the spurious radio signal. The decision to act was immediate.

  Around 11:30 p.m. that same day, Paul Gaffney ushered a team of FBI and DS special agents and technical specialists into the Bureau of Oceans and International Environmental and Scientific Affairs (OES) seventh floor conference room to conduct a search of the premises. Within an hour, the team located an electronic transmitting device encased in a section of the wooden chair rail—a waist-high molding designed to establish proper scale and proportion in a room as well as protect a wall from chair marks—surrounding the room. This bogus piece of chair rail was secured to the wall just below the conference room’s seven-foot-tall windows facing Virginia Avenue. The entry team was impressed by the SVR’s due diligence. They had reasonably duplicated a piece of decorative wood molding that closely matched the existing chair rail. Better yet, the fake molding was hidden from sight behind the conference room’s ceiling-to-floor window curtains. Regardless of whether the curtains were opened or closed, they always concealed that specific corner of the room where the bogus molding was affixed to the wall.

  Even if an employee or member of the cleaning staff had pulled aside the curtain, a slightly mismatched piece of molding wouldn’t have raised suspicions. A potted plant over six feet tall stood directly in front of the curtain, discouraging anyone from reaching around it. The clandestine SVR survey team had done its job well. It was a textbook example of surreptitious emplacement.

  Countermeasures detection equipment and highly sophisticated photographic devices were trained on the molding by the entry team, and they immediately confirmed the existence of the clandestine transmitter, fitted with multiple batteries, embedded inside the wood. Since there was nothing else to do, the entry team quickly and quietly withdrew.

  Senior administration officials were alerted to the discovery of the listening device, and within seventy-two hours, the most senior representatives of the FBI, CIA, NSA, and DOJ were hastily convened into a large SCIF located within the JEH building to determine how to respond to the discovery of the SVR transmitter. John Tello and I were the only two State Department officers present that morning, and the ensuing debate, while cordial, was intense. We remained quiet throughout the discussion, strongly suspecting that regardless of any decision reached by the gathered intelligence community, DS/CI would now be asked to make a significant contribution in the investigation.

  As the assembled body debated the discovery of the transmitter, the potential harm arising from its operation, and a potential US government plan of action, my mind wandered and I asked myself—why the OES conference room? We knew that Russian diplomats had attended meetings inside the conference room during the course of bi- and tri-lateral negotiations, but OES is not considered a hard target for the SVR.

  We would quickly learn that any number of people and internal department units could use the conference room for non-OES related topics. Paul Gaffney had reviewed the OES conference room sign-up book and determined that many sensitive discussions took place inside the room. The information captured by the SVR was eclectic and diverse. Some was classified, some was personnel sensitive, and some was mind-numbingly mundane. In my opinion, the information compromised in the OES conference room did not give the Kremlin a tactical or strategic edge in anything, luckily for us.

  During the lively debate, certain attendees preferred to exploit the device by offering up disinformation in future staged conferences, hoping to disrupt and confuse Russian an
alysts.

  Some FBI officials opted for a quick arrest of Gusev and an immediate examination of the transmitter while others suggested that the device be disabled and see who would show up at the conference room to repair or retrieve the device. Finally the technical folks argued that the top priority was immediately to remove and inspect the device and learn its design capabilities in order to develop appropriate technical countermeasures. They insisted the transmitter be removed that very afternoon.

  Several hours later, it was agreed to leave the transmitter in situ. However, the OES conference room and listening device would be monitored electronically on a twenty-four hour, seven-day-a-week basis until the DOJ determined that all legal and technical issues associated with the discovery of the device had been thoroughly reviewed for a potential prosecution. The participants further agreed that FBI technicians would install the necessary electronic surveillance monitoring equipment in the conference room so that DS special agents could remotely monitor the room and make an “arrest” should any individual attempt to service or handle the device during the surveillance.

  As we departed the JEH building, John Tello and I discussed how best to inform our agents of their new and time-consuming task. Both of us were uneasy about the open-ended nature of the commitment our office had just made. Our anxiety greatly increased when we realized just how forceful our message must be to the office staff concerning their need to practice extraordinary discretion and discipline in the months to come. The adverse consequences of an inadvertent disclosure of the operation were just too great to let our guard down.