CIA Spymaster_George Kisevalter

by Clarence Ashley III

  "The mousetrap was terrible. Peter Deriabin defected to us in Vienna on Valentine's Day of 1954. He was a Soviet KGB officer, a major.; We had the delicate problem of getting him out of Vienna, which was well inside the Soviet Zone, to a safe place in the American Zone. From there he could be flown back to the States. The Soviets would kill him if they could get their hands on him. We couldn't fly him out because the weather had the planes socked in. Even if the weather had been good, we would have been afraid to fly him out for fear that they might shoot down the plane. I knew our chief of technology. We figured out a scheme to get him out of the zone. We engineered a large box with holes drilled through so that he could breathe, and put him inside. We then put the box with him in it on a train going to the American Zone. When we got him out of the box he went immediately to a safehouse in, of all places, Salzburg. So, there the confused guy is, in Salzburg. Naturally, I knew about it."

  Ted Poling later explained the events surrounding Peter Deriabin's defection to the CIA in Vienna. Ted was the first CIA man to debrief him. A day or so before Deriabin defected, a junior Soviet trade-mission official, not an intelligence type, had defected. Ted was debriefing this man when he received a call from his chief, who said, "Drop everything. We have a more important fish on the line."

  Ted then ran over to talk with Deriabin. The CIC (Counter Intelligence Corps) had him. Apparently he had simply appeared on their doorstep. After establishing rapport with him, Ted began to determine the reasons Deriabin had defected. First of all, a great cloud was hanging over the KGB following the Lavrenti Pavlovich Beria purges. Secondly, since the trade officer, one of Deriabin's own flock, had left, Deriabin would be held responsible and could face punishment. Finally, Deriabin's marriage had become unpleasant for him. Ted began with a standard list of questions: "Who are you? Why are you here? Do you have any information relative to an imminent Soviet attack?" When Deriabin responded that he was KGB, Ted immediately wanted to know what his position there was and who his American agents were. Then he wanted to know who his British agents were, his French agents, and the ones from other countries. Deriabin replied that he was responsible for the security of the whole Soviet colony in Vienna. His cover was that of a consul. When Ted got to the list of agents of other nationalities, the defector mentioned "Stroitel," which is a Russian word for constructor or builder. Stroitel was the chief engineer of all of the construction projects for the Central Group of Forces in Austria. Poling immediately recognized this agent as one of his own, a Russian emigre from Czechoslovakia who had resumed Soviet citizenship. The Agency's code name for him was "Greatcoat." Ted realized that both of them were "running" the same man. Or Stroitel, a.k.a. Greatcoat, was playing both of them, in order to survive. Ted reflected that he was now face to face with his opposite number in Deriabin, but he continued with his questioning, trying not to tip his hand. Deriabin added that Stroitel had described his American case officer as a man named "Captain Peterson, who had brown hair, brown eyes, glasses, medium build, and wrote with his left hand," all characteristics of Ted Poling, who had been taking copious notes.4

  Deriabin had come to the CIA at about 6:00 P.M. By 1:00 the next afternoon, the CIA Vienna mission had him initially debriefed and packed into a wooden, casket-shaped crate engineered by George. There were military markings stenciled on the box to make it look like soldier's equipment. Four soldiers from Counter Intelligence Corps carried the crate through the passenger entrance to the train station, put it in a baggage car on the Mozart, which was headed for the American Zone, and sat with it, weapons at the ready. Bill Hood and Ted bought tickets and planted themselves in seats up front. They sat there with fingers crossed, hoping against hope that the scheme would be successful. The Mozart was a special train and the Soviets were not supposed to interfere in any way with U.S. personnel or their belongings on it. It had diplomatic immunity, but the U.S. had agreed with the Soviets not to use the train for any adverse military or espionage activity. The Soviets did not challenge the American personnel or threaten to open the box. When the train arrived in Linz, within the American Zone, CIC personnel knocked out the back of the crate. Deriabin, after many hours in the dark, was met with a cascade of flashbulbs. This irritated him, but that was the way of the CIC. He pleaded with his masters to allow him to relieve himself before commencing with the standard reception interrogation.5

  George went on. "Suddenly, the chief confronted me:

  "'Are you speaking on the telephone in French with your wife in Salzburg?'

  "'Yes. What of it?'

  "'Did you tell her that the defector was coming there?'

  "'Certainly not! Why?'

  "'Did you tell her about the box?'

  "'Tell her about the box? No! Why would I do that?'

  "Well, everybody was talking about a new movie about World War II, The Man Who Never Was, with Clifton Webb. It was very popular at the time. The story was about a dead body delivered to the Germans in a wooden casket. On the body the Allies had placed secret documents to be discovered by the Germans, which presumably would reveal whether the Allies were to invade Sicily or the Balkans and when. The design was to have the Germans believe these phony documents and divert their troops to the wrong region. It worked in the movie.

  "I told the chief that I had been talking with Velma about the movie, and that was the whole conversation. Evidently, Velma's case officer had not been able to follow the French too well, and he had gotten the movie story confused with the Deriabin scheme. I said to the chief, 'Besides, the muttonhead who told you this told his own wife, `Hey, I got an extra wash load for you.' And where does an extra wash load of men's clothing come from but a defector? The case officer was talking to his own wife, an American. She was in Salzburg also like Velma. And she was yapping on the phone to Velma. She told Velma that her wash load of clothing was suddenly doubled. Velma told me this, which meant that there had to be another man. It had nothing to do with me, but that's how the rumor came about that I told Velma about Deriabin. I told the chief this. The other fellow's wife over there was the one who yapped. Nobody got hurt because nobody else knew much about what was going on. So I got off the hook on which I had found myself. I said nothing to Velma about talking to the other case officer's wife. I didn't think that she was a blabbermouth. But she was bored; she had nothing else to do.

  "Anyway, we got the guy out. He stayed with Ted Poling. At breakfast, Deriabin repeatedly asked for vodka and Poling repeatedly brought him little glasses of water, as the two words in Russian are similar. Something was lost in the translation.

  "That life was very hard-black, in a strange country. And I was pretending to be someone other than myself. Ferdi, of course, did not understand. I did not tell her anything about my real circumstances. I really didn't have to, because she wouldn't understand anyhow. It was too complex for her. We had Russians, Bulgarians, Chinese, Yugoslavs, Germans, Poles, and God knows who else there, all over the place, and they were all spies."

  "I was Joe Palmer to Ferdi and George Kisevalter to Velma. For Popov, I had a different name, a phony American name.6 I cannot now remember every undercover name; I had so many. I used to change them whenever, and I'd then get new documentation. You tend to forget them, you know. But anyway, for more than two years Ferdi did not know my true name. It had to leak out eventually, but I was able keep her in the dark until I left Vienna.

  "I was in love. Sometimes, when you are in love, you do things that are stupid. One day, I thought I would be brave and teach her how to drive a car. I had a QP car, phony everything. This was going to be a chore in itself, because she didn't know anything about cars, but I finally taught her a bit after a few bumps. Unfortunately, they had patrols in that town. We called them `the four guys in the jeep.' One soldier from each of the four sectors would ride together. So, there was some violation while she was at the wheel. These foreign heroes arrested me and they gave me problems. I got out of the situation, but it took some doing. The American gave me the most tr
ouble because I was an American. All of my pleading with him was useless. He said to himself, `I am going to fix you, you jerk; the American MPs will take care of this.' The British guy said, Just a minute here; I have jurisdiction here. What do you people have to do with it? It's my sector.' Naturally, the Frenchman was romantically inclined. He said, `The lady is driving; that's all right. We're French. We understand these things.' So I spoke Russian, quickly to the Russian. He looked at me. He said, in words to the effect, `It's nothing.' I said to myself, `That's fine.' In other words, he's not voting against me. So it was a matter of these four slobs voting. And I won the vote, two to one, with one abstaining. So they let me go.

  "Now, when the Soviets controlled their sector, they exercised a lot more authority. They would walk around with machine pistols, and if they didn't like what you said, they would shoot. You didn't argue with them. They were trigger-happy and nuts. Ferdi's sister's husband had this bicycle. He was robbed and killed by a Russian who wanted the bicycle. He was a nice kid, her brother-in-law. I saw him once, then he was dead. The Russian was drunk and he wanted the bicycle, so he just killed the kid. If you didn't give them the Mickey Mouse watch or the bicycle, you would have had it. Those were rough days there. It was too easy for the Soviets. They had too many spies. They had stooges there working for them who would cut somebody's throat for a nickel, whether they were Rumanian, Austrian, or whatever. People were hungry; because of that, they would do lots of things they would not otherwise do.

  "Ferdi and her family lived in the French sector, and she had the right to go into the Russian sector. I did not. I stayed away from the Russian sector so there'd be no `incident.' I crossed the border by accident once, so it was important that I duck and get away from Russian interrogation. I got out before the dummies caught me. I was in a car and they chased me. I got ahead of a train and I bounced over the tracks in front of the train. They couldn't make it quickly enough and had to wait for the train. Then I doubled back, got on the right road, and got the hell out of there. I made sure that I didn't make that mistake again."

  The CIA people working with the operation wanted to be able to have contact with Popov when he ultimately would go back to Moscow, but it was extremely dangerous and difficult to get any of their people in place there (actually, all but impossible). Moreover, the U.S. State Department was extremely hesitant about sending CIA people to Moscow. The diplomatic corps did not want an international incident or even a provocation. Nevertheless, due to pressure to utilize this valuable asset, the Agency consensus was that it was absolutely necessary to send someone there and that the individual be under diplomatic cover. Thus, the CIA sent one of its people there, posing as a State Department employee, but without the actual knowledge and consent of the State Department. Unfortunately, the particular man selected for the task was ill prepared for his duty. Frank Levy had just begun the man's training when he, "Little Guy," was dispatched. Frank objected to his going, averring that it was premature to send him. He became the first CIA clandestine services officer ever to be placed in Moscow. When he arrived he tried to set up places for dead drops and brush contacts.7 When Popov went back to Moscow on a temporary visit George supplied him with the information to check out some of the dead-drop locations that Little Guy had selected. Upon walking by some of these locations, Popov was appalled. He asked George, "Are you trying to get me killed?" The locations were ill conceived, not in safe places that Popov and Little Guy could visit without suspicion or surveillance.

  Knowing that the meetings in Vienna could not go on indefinitely, George gave Popov instructions as to how CIA people elsewhere might make contact with him. George gave him a set of gold cufflinks, along with the instruction that someone wearing an identical set would meet him, whenever that might be possible. The cufflinks, designed by Peer de Silva and fashioned after the unmistakable emblem of the United States Military Academy at West Point, Peer's alma mater, consisted of a convex, oval dish, on which was mounted the helmet of the goddess Athena over the scabbard of a sword. Before giving the cufflinks to Popov, de Silva and Ted Poling had asked CIA director Allen Dulles for his approval to present them to Popov as a personal gift from Dulles. Dulles commented that this design was quite familiar and might endanger Popov. Ted felt the same, but he was not about to disagree with Peer in front of the director. Mr. Dulles nevertheless consented. When they left the director's office, Ted told Peer of his own concern. Using two pairs of matching cufflinks was risky, but there were some good reasons for doing so. If George simply had shown a pair of the cufflinks to Popov and told him that his contact would wear these, it was unlikely that Popov would have remembered. Popov needed to see the match between his own and the ones that the contact would be wearing or carrying. Likewise, the contact man had to have the same level of confirmation. Years later, when George retired, the set at the Agency was given to him.

  After ten years of occupation by the Allies, the Austrian State Treaty was signed. In the summer of 1955 all of the foreign powers, including the United States, were required to leave Austria. Often before, Popov had remarked on how the CIA had treated him as opposed to the GRU. "The way they [GRU] treat one here in one's work causes much nervous strain. If one does not complete his assignment, he is treated almost as if he were a traitor to his country.... From the very beginning ... you were never concerned about what I would bring, but you always stressed that I should be careful about my own security.... For this I am very grateful. In the work of our organization, they are never concerned about how dangerous an assignment may be for someone. They are only interested in squeezing all they can out of a person." On 18 August, Popov was transferred back to Moscow. He and George had their last meeting. George didn't know if he would ever see him again. On this occasion, as he and his Russian friend had a farewell vodka, Popov said to George, "This is what I like about your organization. You can find time to drink and relax. It is an entirely human approach. You have respect and regard for an individual.... With us, of course, the individual is nothing, and the government interest is everything." As they departed Austria, George sensed that, in addition to his intimate association with Popov, his love affair with Ferdi was coming to a big halt.

  George returned to Washington and headquarters, wondering if the Popov operation would terminate or continue later in some other setting. When he got back, Velma and he determined that they no longer should be married. All in all, they were having no marriage at all. George then went to Reno, Nevada, and obtained a divorce. They separated as amicably as was possible, agreeing that she should keep the house on California Street. He wanted no part of it; it was hers.

  George moved in with his good friend Dick Kovich for about a month. Dick enjoyed having him around, although Dick was a bachelor and not home a lot of the time. George was not eager to socialize, so he simply threw himself into this work at the Agency. Dick was very sad that George was leaving Velma. George was terribly embarrassed by the divorce process, but he eventually explained to Dick, "What can one do when one falls in love with someone else?" He added that it is almost impossible for two people to stay together when the romance has gone. Velma had once told Dick that George chased her during their courtship and that she quite reluctantly gave in to his marriage request. She loved him but she realized that she was too old for him and that there would come a day when it would just have to end. Dick believed that the difference in social status could have had a bearing on the matter. Velma had come from a family of some wealth. George, on the other hand, had struggled during the depression. Perhaps, thought Dick, George was bothered that Velma had so many wealthy friends. If so, maybe George realized that he was just not cut out to be married to somebody who was so socially prominent.

  CHAPTER 7

  Reunited

  One method of servicing dead drop in Moscow might be as simple as Little Guy reading some inscription scribbled on a designated telephone booth. Unfortunately Little Guy could not read Russian well enough to effectively do this. Wh
en Popov found that he was to be transferred out of Moscow on assignment to Germany, he left a message for Little Guy. He inscribed in chalk a signal at a prescribed contact location. It read, "GDR-Shv 9/55." The intent was to convey that he was being transferred from Moscow to Schwerin in the German Democratic Republic, sometime in September of 1955. The inscription was written in Cyrillic script, however, and Little Guy could not properly decipher its meaning. Of course, even if Little Guy had copied the Cyrillic rendition precisely, it would have been quite a stretch for most to understand what Popov meant.

  Shortly thereafter, Little Guy departed Moscow. In his wake was a first-class scandal. Evidently, the KGB had seen the CIA plant coming from the start, because they immediately mounted an operation targeting him. They nicknamed him Ryzhiy, "Redhead." Little Guy had the notion that he could seduce women with his good looks. It didn't take the KGB long to take advantage of this. They placed their agent, Valya, an extremely attractive (by many accounts) female, in his path as a maid in the embassy. Valya had a silent camera in her handbag with a timing device that operated the shutter during their sexual tryst. This part of the operation worked very well, as she took photos from wall to wall. Two men from the KGB approached Ryzhiy with the developed pictures. One of them spoke perfect English, as he had been raised in the U.S. He said, "Hey, we know who you are. Look at these. Your career is finished. You might as well work with us now."

  Ryzhiy demurred. He did not report this to anyone immediately, as he contemplated just what to do. The men then asked Valya, "What is he up to?" "He's playing Hamlet," she said. "Hamlet?" was the query. "To be or not to be. Whether or not to have my second meeting with my tormentors."

  They had a second meeting but he never gave them any information. To everyone's surprise and consternation, he then went straight to the ambassador, Chip Bohlen, and told him about his relationship with the CIA and with Valya. Upon hearing that he actually was a CIA employee, the ambassador was quite upset. This, of course, resulted in additional friction between the CIA and the State Department. Little Guy was recalled and fired. He never did meet Popov. He had few defenders but Peer de Silva considered him to have been an excellent army officer and a good friend. He later was killed in an automobile accident near San Francisco.)