The Spy in Moscow Station

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The Spy in Moscow Station Page 6

by Eric Haseltine


  The next day, the bike magically appeared outside his room.

  “Can you tell me about the microwaves?” Gandy asked.

  LeChevet slid a thin, stapled document across the table. “I do these measurements every day.”

  Gandy studied the documents, which typically looked like this cable sent from Ambassador Toon to the secretary of state, Cyrus Vance, containing LeChevet’s measurements.1

  SECRET

  PAGE 01 MOSCOW 16931 212255Z ACTION SY-05 INFO OCT-01 IS0-00 /006 W R 211452Z NOV 77

  FM AMEMBASSY MOSCOW

  TO SECSTATE WASHDC

  4764 S E C R E T MOSCOW 16931 SY CHANNEL FOR A/SY/OPS/T E. O. 11652: XGDS-3

  SUBJECT: SPECIAL MEASUREMENT 076532 220226Z

  MUTS SIGNAL ACTIVITY RECORDED THROUGHOUT THE PERIOD BEGINNING AT 18:00 HOURS ON 18 NOV AND ENDING AT 18:00 HOURS ON 21 NOV FOLLOWS:

  DATE

  MUTS ONE

  MUTS TWO

  18 NOV

  19:15-19:25 (B)

  18 NOV

  21:30-22:25 (C)

  19 NOV

  10:25-10:35 (B)

  19 NOV

  12:00-12:10 (B)

  19 NOV

  13:35-13:50 (B)

  19 NOV

  15:15-15:25 (B)

  19 NOV

  16:50-17:00 (B)

  19 NOV

  18:20-18:35 (B)

  20 NOV

  09:40-09:50 (B)

  20 NOV

  11:15-11:25 (B)

  20 NOV

  12:50-13:00 (B)

  19-21 NOV

  1

  SEE PARA 3

  21 NOV

  09:20-12:00 (B)

  21 NOV

  12:25-12:35 (B)

  SECRET

  SECRET PAGE 02

  21 NOV MOSCOW 16931 212255Z 13:00-18:00 (B) 2. POWER DENSITY FIGURES CALCULATED USING POWER LEVEL MEASUREMENTS (IN PARENS) MADE DURING CERTAIN OF THE PARA ONE REVIEW AUTHORITY: ACTIVITY PERIODS WERE AS FOLLOWS:

  DATE

  TIME

  SIGNAL POWER

  21 NOV

  11:10

  TWO (B).20 (13)

  21 NOV

  16:05

  TWO (B).48 (32)

  3. MECHANICAL FAILURE (JAMMED PAPER FEED) CAUSED LOSS OF INFORMATION FROM 19:30 ON 19 NOV TO 09:20 ON 21 NOV FOR MUTS TWO ONLY. RUSTRAK SHOWED ONLY NORMAL B ACTIVITY DURING THIS PERIOD.

  4. HIGH POWER B AND C MODES OBSERVED FOR MUTS ONE ON 20 NOV FROM 00:10 TO 00:15. NO STEADY STATE REACHED.

  5. BRITISH TECHS OBSERVED MUTS TWO (B) SIGNAL THIS DAY FROM DETAILS TO FOLLOW.

  TOON

  SECRET

  The rows of numbers denoted the date of measurement, time, frequency band (A for 0.5–1.5 GHz, B for 1.5–3.0 GHz, C for 3.0–9.0 GHz), and power levels. MUTS 1 and MUTS 2 referred to signals originating from different locations outside the embassy.

  The MUTS 1 and 2 were descendants of TUMS—the technical unidentified Moscow signals—that had bombarded different chancery buildings since the late ’40s. Although the original signals were related to the Thing implant at Spaso House (the ambassador’s residence, not the chancery), the purpose of the continued radiation of the chancery was something of a mystery to many State and CIA technical officers, because they knew of no further instances of Thing-like implants.

  But the signals were no mystery to Gandy. He was certain that, despite rising in frequency from VHF into the microwave bands, their function had never changed from the original emissions: extracting information from the embassy. He had been trying, without success, to raise alarms at State and CIA about the very signals described in the document before him for almost ten years.

  Gandy studied the data carefully because he had not seen such detailed records back at Fort Meade. As he scanned down one page after another, the numbers spoke to him, telling him what the Russians were probably up to.

  “Can I keep these?” he asked.

  “I don’t see why not,” LeChevet answered. “What do you think?”

  Gandy considered how much to tell the State Department man. He was not into interagency turf fights, and he normally liked to cooperate outside of NSA as much as possible. But he couldn’t talk about NSA’s own ultrasensitive sources and methods that guided his interpretation of the MUTS signals described on the documents in front of him.

  At length, Gandy said, “Well, one thing’s for sure—they hunt for resonances, then seem to find them.” He pointed to the long row of numbers on one page.

  “You mean like the Great Seal?”

  “Yes. Except with the seal, they knew exactly which frequencies to use because it was their own implant. My impression here is that some of these constant-frequency CW signals never change and may be stimulating another resonant microphone like the Thing, but the others shift regularly, then lock on to one frequency as if they are hunting for one of our unintended radiators, then find one to exploit.”

  “Go on,” LeChevet said.

  Choosing his words carefully, Gandy explained that microwaves, by analogy, were like sunlight that reflected off any shiny or metallic object. Whenever that object moved, changing its angle to incident sunlight, an observer would see the sunlight wink on and off, similar to a signaling mirror used by the army for long-distance communication before the telegraph was invented. Microwaves worked this way, too, sort of, but unlike sunlight, which would reflect well off any sized shiny surface, microwaves mostly return a strong signal from conductors (typically metal) that had a physical dimension that was resonant (had the same dimension as half the length of a microwave) with the microwave frequency.

  Thus, when the length of a metal conductor illuminated with microwaves of a single frequency changed, even slightly, the energy returned to a microwave receiver would also change, similar to the way the amount of sunlight reflected from a mirror changed with the mirror’s angle.

  The Thing worked because voice vibrations slightly changed the electrical length of a small microwave antenna, allowing a remote radar to sense and decode those voice signals from small changes in received microwave energy.

  But the systematic shifts in frequency of the MUTS signals suggested that the Soviet microwaves were hunting for conductors of unknown length that might carry classified information. According to entry-level Russian language texts on leakage of information through technical channels, conductors such as electrical traces in digital circuits that oscillate (periodically change effective length) whenever transistor logic connected to that conductive trace shifts from zero to one can leak information to remote RF imposition (MUTS/TUMS) devices. The same Russian language textbooks say that any oscillatory electronic or mechanical movements, such as back-and-forth movements of swinging typewriter arms, will inform a remote radar which letter had been typed every time a new key was struck.2

  A declassified NSA document, “Tempest: A Signal Problem,” also said that information typed on text-processing equipment, such as code machines and typewriters, could leak out of a secure facility through microphones that picked up the sound of the text equipment operating, because—on many machines—the typing or printing of different letters made different sounds that could be decoded. If an acoustic resonator, such as an implanted microwave Thing-like microphone or fortuitous vibrating membrane, such as an audio speaker, were close enough to a text-processing machine, then MUTS or TUMS could “hear” the typing through acoustic vibrations of that resonator.3

  Not knowing beforehand what the resonant length of such telltale reflectors might be, the KGB could be systematically increasing and decreasing the frequency of microwave energy until they detected strong, resonant return signals that varied slightly with voice or data information. Once such reflectors were found, the microwaves would then lock on to that frequency and “read” the classified information it contained.

  “Look here.” Gandy pointed to the time stamps on the document LeChevet had given him. “The frequencies shift every ten minutes, then dwell for two hours and forty minutes on j
ust one frequency. This means that they were hunting for an information source at different frequencies, then, finding one that was productive, stopped at that frequency.”

  “Stopped to do what?” LeChevet asked.

  “To listen and to decode a voice or data implant, or both. The signal would not dwell like that if it weren’t producing useful intelligence. I’m afraid this is very bad news. The other side is stealing from you, for sure. We need to listen to those same frequencies to see if we can learn what those guys”—Gandy pointed across the street—“are collecting.”

  LeChevet looked like he was digesting all this, but Gandy couldn’t be sure. He’d learned, from explaining such things before, that even bright Ph.D. scientists like Jon found the subject to be arcane and incomprehensible. Microwaves were like microbes—you couldn’t see them and had a hard time grasping that something invisible could be so dangerous. The strange, nonintuitive nature of microwave interactions with conductors was one reason that Gandy constantly encountered skepticism when raising the possibility of microwave attacks, even though the Thing was widely known.

  The meeting over, Gandy and Jon ventured down to the seventh floor for the first meeting with Hathaway.

  Although it might have been his imagination, on his way to Hathaway’s office in Moscow Station—the term for CIA’s operation in the embassy—Gandy thought he could smell damp, charred wood, a reminder of the fire that had swept through the embassy the previous August.

  Hathaway was tall and slender and moved with athletic grace. A Southerner like Gandy, Hathaway did not immediately get down to business, but offered Gandy and Jon a cup of bad embassy coffee, then inquired about Gandy’s trip, his quarters, his ride from Sheremetyevo, and other small talk. The two had met in the States during one of Charles’s briefings on the Russia threat at CIA headquarters, and Hathaway praised Gandy for his excellent presentation and offer of technical assistance. Hathaway’s voice was soft, and he spoke in an unhurried cadence that Gandy had grown up hearing in the Deep South.

  Gandy was pleased he had made an impression but reminded himself he was talking to a skilled CIA case officer whose job, after all, was to recruit people using flattery and any number of other tools of persuasion. In the intelligence community, getting stroked, cajoled, pressured, or bullied by a DO case officer who wanted something from you was referred to as “being DO’d.” When dealing with someone like Hathaway, however sincere he might appear—and Hathaway seemed very sincere—it was always a good idea to keep in mind that one might be being DO’d.

  Finishing his coffee, Hathaway said, “Let’s go to the box.” Hathaway led them up two floors to a secure area on the ninth floor.

  The box was a small cube inside the ninth-floor SCIF, whose walls were made entirely of clear Plexiglas with special supports that prevented sound waves from propagating into the building’s structure (vibrations the KGB could decode by attaching special sound transducers to pipes, air ducts, or any other structure capable of transmitting vibrations).

  Outside the box was a powerful air blower, which turned on when Hathaway flicked the lights on in the tiny room, further masking their conversation.

  Shortly after Jon, Gandy, and Hathaway were seated, Ambassador Malcolm Toon appeared outside the box and gestured that he wanted to come in.

  The ambassador was a distinguished gentleman with light gray hair, a tailored suit, and a no-nonsense manner. He had learned to speak Russian while serving five years in Moscow as a junior diplomat in the 1950s, including during the Stalin era, and was considered to be a hard-line cold warrior. The Soviets, unhappy with what they considered to be Toon’s harsh, anti-Russian views, had effectively vetoed his appointment to Moscow with Henry Kissinger and Richard Nixon in the early ’70s. Toon’s wife, Elizabeth, who had spent five grim years in Moscow before, had added her veto to the Russians’, telling Malcolm that he could accept the appointment there “over my dead body.”4

  But Toon, who wanted to exert influence over U.S.-Soviet relations, ultimately prevailed over both Nixon’s secretary of state, Kissinger, and his wife to relent, and the Toons took up residence in Spaso House in late 1976. President Carter wasn’t enthusiastic about keeping Toon when he took office a few months later but was eventually persuaded to stick with him in order not to look soft on communism.5

  After Toon seated himself, Hathaway said, “We’ve got serious problems.” He went on to describe the recent roll-ups and expulsions, implying that a security leak, or leaks, in the embassy was the source. Hathaway did not, however, explain the urgency surrounding the pending Tolkachev recruitment, the pending inspection by Turner’s man Rusty Williams, or his campaign to rebuild Admiral Turner’s trust so that he could resume HUMINT operations. Interagency cooperation was called for here—but only up to a certain point. Gandy did not learn of CIA’s internal problems in Moscow until forty years later.

  Hathaway concluded, “What do y’all think? Any ideas where the other side might be getting their information?”

  Gandy looked over at LeChevet and wondered if the State Department officer caught the nuance. Y’all in this context, as any Southerner knew, was employed in the singular, meaning just Gandy. If Hathaway had also wanted LeChevet’s opinion, he would have said all y’all.

  Apparently, Hathaway already knew LeChevet’s views.

  Gandy was aware that both career diplomats such as Toon—known as black dragons—and CIA officers did not hold State’s RSO officers in high esteem, discounting their expertise and bringing in intelligence technologists, such as Gandy, for the most challenging problems. From his conversation with LeChevet, the State Department man seemed perfectly competent to Gandy, but what could you do? Gandy knew that prejudices died hard.

  Gandy turned to Jon. “You’ve been here a while. What’s your sense?”

  “Where to begin?” LeChevet answered. “The possibilities are endless. Mics, implants workers [Soviets employed in the embassy], maybe that mysterious chimney. We’ve got a couple of engineers helping Seabees [navy construction engineers] here right now about to break in to the chimney and check it out.”

  Gandy nodded. For the benefit of Toon and Hathaway, he asked, “What about MUTS and TUMS?”

  LeChevet leaned forward. “That’s been my main focus since getting here. I’ve recorded them and carefully analyzed their modulation schemes—which are all over the map, by the way. Frequency hopping, direct spreading, you name it. But I still haven’t figured out exactly what they’re doing, other than the fact they seem to be aimed at the top floors.”

  Gandy asked, “Where do they come from?”

  “Two different sites. One is an apartment across Chaikovskova”—the street the embassy was located on. “And the other?” LeChevet pointed in the direction of the old Russian Orthodox building nearby. “We call that Our Lady of Telemetry or Our Lady of Observation.”

  Gandy smiled at that. “Well, I have an idea or two about the microwaves.” Looking at Hathaway, he said, “I think they could be very significant to your problems here.”

  “How so?” Hathaway asked.

  “Do you know about the Great Seal implant?”

  Hathaway and Toon nodded in unison.

  “Well, you might have some more like it, but they’d be quite a bit smaller, and harder to find, because the MUTS signals are higher frequency than the 400 MHz signals that energized the Thing in the Great Seal.”

  Gandy had learned not to explain to nontechnical people the relationship between resonator size and microwave frequency, because their eyes usually glazed over. As he’d expected, neither Toon nor Hathaway asked for an explanation. But Toon did ask, “Exactly how small are we talking about?”

  Gandy did some mental calculations. “The highest frequency is 9 GHz, which is resonant at a little less than half an inch, give or take a fraction of an inch, allowing for capacitive effects.”

  Gandy then held out his hand as if he had such a device in his palm and leaned in to the ambassador. Then he blew
on his hand, propelling the imaginary microwave bug into the ambassador’s neatly groomed hair. “Could be pretty small,” he added.

  Toon recoiled, swatting the top of his head, trying to brush away whatever Gandy may have blown out of his palm.

  “Sorry,” Gandy said. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just trying to make a point.”

  The exact details of the rest of the conversation among Gandy, Jon, Hathaway, and ambassador in the box are not available for public consumption, even forty years later, but careful analysis of Gandy’s unclassified descriptions, declassified NSA, CIA, and State Department documents, and particularly, study of Russian-language texts on information leakage and Russian training materials regarding microwave attacks provide a reasonable idea of what was said that day, given that Gandy was aware in 1978 of Russian capabilities and microwave tradecraft, information that was highly classified then but openly available in Russia today.

  Based upon this informed guesswork, here is a summary—derived solely from the information-leakage textbooks and other public sources—of what Gandy might have told Toon and Hathaway about how microwaves could be a problem.*

  Consider the radar detectors that police used in 1978 to catch speeders. These handheld microwave emitters radiate a pure “tone” that bounces off the metal of traveling cars and travels back to the handheld device. Microwave energy returned from a moving car will shift up in tone and frequency in exactly the same way that the whistle of an approaching train seems to increase in pitch as it approaches, even though the whistle is actually emitting sound at a constant tone.

  This phenomenon, called Doppler shift, occurs because the motion of an object emitting a sound compresses sound waves, making them shorter, increasing their frequency and pitch. Conversely, a receding object will elongate sound waves emitted from it, lowering their frequency and pitch. When police detect a very large Doppler shift in a moving vehicle traveling toward or away from them, it means that the car is traveling faster than the speed limit; a small shift in tone signifies that a driver is obeying speed limits.

 

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