I turned myself in on July 13, 1992, at the CIA building in Langley
(McLean), Virginia, ironically named George Bush Center for Intelligence
in 1999 -- perhaps for his role in the assassination of Kennedy. The
agent came out with his hand glued to his holster shouting, "Put your
hands on top of the car!" while 20 or so agents were peering out of the
windows at the crazy fellow who had been calling them throughout the
so that he frisked me superficially and didn't detect the small recorder I
had in my underwear. Thank God for me that he didn't find it. And thank
God for him that it was a recorder and not a hand grenade.
Agent named 'Katie' interviewed me. She told me that they
would soon get in touch with me. On August 24, Austin FBI
Special Agent Jim King called me at work and said he
wanted to talk with me about my recent visit to Langley.
Two days later, King and Special Agent Bob Baker came
to my house (613 Blackberry, below) in Austin, Texas and
we began an uneasy on-again-off-again relation, the goal
of which was to penetrate Cuban intelligence. The CIA
was reluctant to send their agents into Cuba to get the
Cuban traitors out. They were too scared that Fidel Castro
might lay a trap for them. The CIA opted to sit back and
monitor the folks from Cuba who came to the U.S. to get in
touch with me. What neither the CIA nor the FBI suspected
is that I was filming and recording their agents from the start.
The spy who came in
from the cold
At the request of the Cuban traitors
I turned myself in to the CIA. Bad
decision! In the movie, Richard Burton
ends up dead. His problems were over.
I wasn't so lucky. I ended up in prison.
The book ^ ^ ^
The movie v v v