The Sword and the Shield

by Christopher Andrew

  With the blessing of the StB, the Koechers later revealed some of their colorful careers to the Washington investigative journalist Ronald Kessler.47 Karl Koecher’s KGB file, however, reveals that he withheld important details. In 1970 he was summoned back to Prague to take part in an StB active measure designed to unmask alleged CIA operations using Czech emigrés. Koecher, however, was too attached to his swinging lifestyle to leave New York, refused to return and for the next four years broke off contact with the StB.48 In 1971 he succeeded in becoming a naturalized US citizen; his wife was granted citizenship a year later.

  Karl Koecher seems to have devised a plan to mend his fences with the StB by penetrating the CIA. In 1973 he moved to Washington and obtained a job as translator in the Agency’s Soviet division, with a top secret security clearance. His chutzpah was such that only three weeks later he demanded a better job:

  My present position is by no means one which would require a PhD. I am interested in intelligence work, and I want to stay with the agency and do a good piece of work. But I also think that it would only be fair to let me do it in a position intellectually far more demanding than the one I have now…

  Probably as a result of his complaints, Koecher was later asked to write intelligence assessments based on some of the Russian and Czech material which he translated and transcribed from tape recordings.

  Sex in Washington struck Koecher as even more exciting than in New York. In the mid-1970s, he later claimed nostalgically, Washington was “the sex capital of the world.” The Koechers joined the “Capitol Couples,” who met for dinner at The Exchange restaurant on Saturday evenings before moving on for group sex in a hotel or private house, as well as becoming members of a private club of Washington swingers at Virginia’s In Place, about ten of whose members worked for the CIA. Hana, blonde, attractive and ten years younger than her husband, later boasted that she had had sex with numerous CIA personnel, Pentagon officials, reporters from major newspapers and a US Senator. The organizer of “Capitol Couples” remembered her as “strikingly beautiful; warm, sweet, ingratiating; incredibly orgasmic.” Karl, however, “was a bit strange… The women he was with said he was a terrible lover, very insensitive. His wife was everything he wasn’t.”49

  In 1974, having penetrated the CIA, Karl Koecher renewed contact with the StB, which consulted the KGB about whether to reactivate him. Henceforth he became a KGB agent with the codename RINO, as well as being an StB illegal. The Koechers’ adventures in Washington sex clubs are unlikely to have provided the StB and KGB with more than compromising information and gossip about Washington officials, most of it of no operational significance. Far more important was the classified Soviet and Czech material translated by Karl Koecher for the CIA which he forwarded to the KGB. Andropov personally praised his intelligence as “important and valuable.”50 In 1975 Koecher left full-time Agency employment, but continued on contract work, based in New York. Among the subjects of his assessments was the decision-making process in the Soviet leadership.51

  In 1975 Koecher supplied the KGB’s New York residency with highly rated intelligence on CIA operations against the Soviet Union in the Third World. As well as arranging meetings in New York, his KGB case officers also met him in Austria and France.52 Among his most important counter-intelligence leads was evidence that the CIA had recruited a Soviet diplomat. Following an apparently lengthy investigation, the KGB identified the diplomat as Aleksandr Dmitryevich Ogorodnik, then working in the American department at the Foreign Ministry. Soon after his arrest in 1977, Ogorodnik agreed to write a full confession but complained that the pen given him by his interrogator was too clumsy for him to use. As soon as he was given his own pen back, he removed a concealed poison capsule, swallowed it before the guard could stop him and died in the interrogation room.53

  In the early 1980s the Koechers were themselves betrayed by a CIA agent in the StB. Arrested in 1984, they returned to Czechoslovakia less than two years later as part of a deal which allowed the imprisoned Russian dissident Anatoli Shcharansky to emigrate to Israel. According to a newspaper report, as they crossed the Glienicker Bridge from West Berlin to East Germany:

  With his moustache and fur-lined coat, Karl F. Koecher looked like nothing so much as a fox. His wife, Hana, wore a mink coat and high white mink hat. Blonde and sexy, with incredibly large blue eyes, she looked like a movie star.

  “The KGB thinks highly of me,” Karl Koecher later boasted to Ronald Kessler.54 There was a curious sequel to the Koechers’ espionage careers in the West. In 1992 Hana succeeded in obtaining a job in the commercial section at the British embassy in Prague. She was sacked two years later after a Czech journalist revealed her background. 55

  AT THE BEGINNING of the 1980s, despite all the setbacks of the previous thirty years, the Centre’s plans for the expansion of illegal networks on the territory of the Main Adversary still remained remarkably ambitious—though not to quite the same degree as a decade earlier. Instead of the ten illegal residencies which it had intended to establish within the United States by 1975, the Centre planned to have six by 1982. Between them, the six residencies were supposed to have three to four sources in each of a series of major penetration targets: the White House, the State Department, the Pentagon and what were described as “related institutions”—among them the Hudson Institute, the Rand Corporation, Columbia University’s School of International Relations, Georgetown University’s Center for Strategic Studies and the West German affiliates of Stanford University’s Center for Strategy and Research. The Centre also planned the “active recruitment” of students at Columbia, New York and Georgetown Universities.56

  It is clear that the KGB had some success in deploying illegals against the Main Adversary in the 1980s. For example, Mitrokhin’s notes record that in 1983 the illegal couple GORT and LUIZA were operating in the United States, but give no details of their achievements.57 However, even the KGB’s downgraded plan for six illegal residencies, each with agents at the heart of the Reagan administration, was hopelessly unrealistic. The scale of the Centre’s ambitious projects for illegal operations against the Main Adversary in the later years of the Cold War reflected not the reality of the 1980s but the spell still cast by the triumphs of the Great Illegals half a century before.

  THIRTEEN

  THE MAIN ADVERSARY

  Part 4: Walk-ins and Legal Residencies in the Later Cold War

  Yuri Andropov became KGB chairman in 1967 with extravagant expectations of the potential contribution of political intelligence to Soviet foreign policy, particularly towards the United States. In a report to KGB Party activists soon after his appointment, he declared that the KGB must be in a position to influence the outcome of international crises in a way that it had failed to do during the Cuban missile crisis five years earlier. He ordered the preparation within three to four months of a First Chief (Foreign Intelligence) Directorate report to the Central Committee on the current and future policy of the Main Adversary and its allies. The principal weakness of current operations in the United States, Andropov complained, was the lack of American agents of the caliber of the Britons Kim Philby, George Blake and John Vassall, or the West German Heinz Felfe. Only by recruiting such agents, he insisted, could the FCD gain access to really high-grade intelligence.1

  Almost from the moment he became a candidate (non-voting) member of the Politburo in 1967, Andropov established himself as a powerful voice in Soviet foreign policy. In 1968 he emerged as the chief spokesman of those calling for “extreme measures” to crush the Prague Spring.2 During the 1970s he became co-sponsor, with the foreign minister, Andrei Gromyko, of the main foreign policy proposals brought before the Politburo (of which both were full, voting members from 1973). Dmitri Ustinov, who became Defense Minister in 1977, sometimes added his signature to the proposals worked out with Gromyko. According to the long-serving Soviet ambassador in Washington, Anatoli Dobrynin:

  Andropov had the advantage of familiarity with both foreign
policy and military issues from the KGB’s broad sources of information… Gromyko and Ustinov were authorities in their respective domains but laid no special claim to each other’s fields in the way that Andropov felt comfortable in both.3

  Under Andropov, the FCD, which had traditionally been wary of taking the initiative in issuing intelligence assessments, for fear that they might contradict the opinions of higher authority, reformed and expanded its analytical branch.4 On a number of occasions Andropov circulated slanted assessments to the Politburo in an attempt to influence its policy.5

  Andropov became one of Brezhnev’s most trusted advisers. In January 1976, for example, he sent the General Secretary a strictly personal eighteen-page letter, which began sycophantically:

  This document, which I wrote myself, is intended for you alone. If you find something in it of value to the cause, I shall be very glad, and if not, then I ask you to consider it as never having happened.6

  Though careful not to criticize Brezhnev even in private discussions with senior KGB officers,7 Andropov was well aware of both his intellectual limitations and declining health, and set out to establish himself as heir-apparent. The General Secretary paid little attention to the details of foreign policy. Dobrynin quickly discovered that what most interested Brezhnev about foreign affairs were the pomp and circumstance of ceremonial occasions:

  …the guards of honor, the grand receptions for foreign leaders in the Kremlin, the fulsome publicity, and all the rest. He wanted his photo taken for his albums, which he loved to show. He much preferred a fine ceremony signing final documents rather than working on them.

  During one meeting with Dobrynin, Brezhnev disappeared upstairs and reemerged in field marshal’s uniform, his chest clanking with medals. “How do I look?” he asked. “Magnificent!” Dobrynin dutifully replied.8 From 1974 onwards a series of mild strokes caused by arteriosclerosis of the brain left Brezhnev a semi-invalid. At the rear of the cavalcade of black Zil limousines which accompanied Brezhnev wherever he went was a resuscitation vehicle. By the mid-1970s one of his closest companions was a KGB nurse, who fed him a steady stream of pills without consulting his doctors.9

  THOUGH ANDROPOV STRENGTHENED both his own influence and that of the KGB in the making of Soviet foreign policy, his ambitious plans for dramatically improved political intelligence on the Main Adversary were never realized. Line PR (political intelligence) in the American residencies failed to live up to his high expectations. In 1968, a scandal arose over the New York resident, Nikolai Panteleymonovich Kulebyakin, a former head of the FCD First (North American) Department. After the Centre had received a complaint against him, probably from within his residency, an enquiry revealed that he had entered the KGB with a bogus curriculum vitae. Contrary to the claims in his CV, he had never completed his school education and had evaded military service. Fearing that Kulebyakin might defect if he were confronted with his crimes in Washington, he was told he had been promoted to deputy director of the FCD and summoned home to take up his new office. On arriving in Moscow, however, he was summarily dismissed from the KGB and expelled from the Communist Party.10

  Thanks chiefly to two walk-ins, Line PR in Washington performed rather better than New York during the mid- and late 1960s. In September 1965 Robert Lipka, a twenty-year-old army clerk in NSA, caused great excitement in the Washington residency by presenting himself at the Soviet embassy on Sixteenth Street, a few blocks from the White House, and announcing that he was responsible for shredding highly classified documents. Lipka (code-named DAN) was probably the youngest Soviet agent recruited in the United States with access to high-grade intelligence since the nineteen-year-old Ted Hall had offered his services to the New York residency while working on the MANHATTAN project at Los Alamos in 1944. Lipka’s file notes that he quickly mastered the intelligence tradecraft taught him by Line PR. Over the next two years he made contact with the residency about fifty times via dead letter-boxes, brush contacts and meetings with a case officer.11

  The youthful head of Line PR, Oleg Danilovich Kalugin, spent “countless hours” in his cramped office in the Washington residency sifting through the mass of material provided by Lipka and choosing the most important documents for cabling to Moscow.12 Lipka’s motives were purely mercenary. During the two years after he walked into the Washington embassy, he received a total of about 27,000 dollars, but regularly complained that he was not paid enough and threatened to break contact unless his remuneration was increased. Lipka eventually did break contact in August 1967, when he left NSA at the end of his military service to study at Millersville College in Pennsylvania and probably concluded that his loss of intelligence access made it no longer worth his while maintaining contact with the Washington residency. To discourage the KGB from trying to renew contact, Lipka sent a final message claiming that he had been a double agent controlled by US intelligence. In view of the importance of the classified documents he had provided, however, the KGB had no doubt that he was lying. Attempts by both the residency and illegals to renew contact with Lipka continued intermittently, without success, for at least another eleven years.13

  Only a few months after Lipka ceased working as a Soviet agent, the Washington residency recruited another walk-in with access to SIGINT. The most important Cold War agent recruited in Washington before Aldrich Ames walked in in 1985 was probably Chief Warrant Officer John Anthony Walker, a communications watch officer on the staff of the Commander of Submarine Forces in the Atlantic (COMSUBLANT) in Norfolk, Virginia. Late in 1967 he entered the Soviet embassy and announced, “I’m a naval officer. I’d like to make some money and I’ll give you some genuine stuff in return.” Despite his junior rank, Walker had access to very high-level intelligence—including the key settings of US naval ciphers. The sample batch of his material, which he brought with him to the embassy, was examined with amazement by Kalugin and the Washington resident, Boris Aleksandrovich Solomatin. According to Kalugin, Solomatin’s “eyes widened as he leafed through the Walker papers. ‘I want this!’ he cried.” Walker, they later agreed, was the kind of spy who turns up “once in a lifetime.” Enabling Soviet codebreakers to crack US navy codes, claims Kalugin, gave the Soviet Union “an enormous intelligence advantage” by allowing it to monitor American fleet movements.14

  Walker, described in a fitness report from his commanding officer in 1972 as “intensely loyal” with “a fine sense of personal honor and integrity,” found photographing top secret documents and cipher material with a Minox camera in the COMSUBLANT communications center so easy that he was later to claim, “K Mart has better security than the Navy.” He went on to form a spy-ring by recruiting a naval friend, Jerry Whitworth, and his own son and elder brother.15 For Kalugin the greatest surprise of both the Lipka and Walker cases was their revelation of “how incredibly lax security still was at some of the United States’ top secret installations.”16

  After the foundation in 1968 of the ultra-secret Sixteenth Department to handle SIGINT material collected by the FCD, Walker was transferred to its control and thus no longer figured on the Washington residency’s agent list.17 Solomatin, however, was careful to ensure that he retained personal oversight of the running of what became the Walker family spyring throughout the extraordinary eighteen years of its existence.18 The reflected glory of the Lipka and Walker cases was to win Solomatin the Order of the Red Banner and, later, promotion to deputy head of the FCD. Kalugin’s career also benefited; in 1974 he became the FCD’s youngest general.19

  Most walk-ins were less straightforward than Lipka and Walker. During the 1970s KGB residencies, especially that in Mexico City, had to deal with a growing number of “dangles”—double agents controlled by the US intelligence community who offered their services as Soviet agents. One of the most successful dangles was MAREK, a master sergeant of Czech descent at the Fort Bliss army base in Texas, who visited the Soviet embassy in Mexico in December 1966 and offered information on electronic equipment used by the US army. Recruited
in June 1968, he had numerous meetings over the next eight years with a grand total of twenty-six case officers in Mexico, West Germany, Switzerland, Japan and Austria. In May 1976, however, the KGB learned from the former CIA officer Philip Agee (PONT) that MAREK was a US dangle, run in a joint CIA/Defense Intelligence Agency operation of which he had personal knowledge. 20

  By the late 1970s a special Pentagon panel was selecting classified documents which were given to American dangles, mostly non-commissioned officers selected by the DIA to strengthen their credibility as Soviet spies. As well as providing a potential channel for disinformation in a conflict or crisis, large amounts of KGB time and energy were wasted in distinguishing dangles from genuine walk-ins. The most successful of the real Soviet recruits, Aldrich Ames, said later that the refusal of the Red Army to release classified documents made it impossible for Soviet dangles to compete with those of the United States:

  Even if a document were of no real value, no one in the Soviet military was willing to sign off on releasing it, knowing that it was going to be passed to the West. They were afraid that a few months later, they would be called before some Stalin-like tribunal and be shot for treason.21

  Throughout the Cold War the main weakness of the Washington residency was its inability to recruit agents able to provide high-level political intelligence from within the federal government. At the end of the 1960s, however, it had one non-agent source to which it attached great importance. A line PR officer, Boris Sedov, operating under cover as a Novosti journalist, had succeeded in making contact with Henry Kissinger while he was still a professor at Harvard University. According to Kalugin, “ We never had any illusions about trying to recruit Kissinger: he was simply a source of political intelligence.” When Kissinger became an adviser to Nixon during the 1968 election campaign, he began to use Sedov to pass messages to Moscow that Nixon’s public image as an unreconstructed Cold War warrior was false and that he wanted better relations with the Soviet Union. After Nixon’s election victory, Brezhnev sent personal congratulations to him via Sedov together with a note expressing the hope that together they would establish better US—Soviet relations. While the presidential campaign had been underway, the long-serving Soviet ambassador, Anatoli Dobrynin, had tolerated Sedov’s secret contacts with Kissinger. Once Nixon entered the White House and Kissinger became his National Security Adviser, however, he insisted on taking over the back channel to the Kremlin himself. 22