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.
that they would soon get in contact 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.