Season of high Treason

    When Pepe Cohen confessed to my wife and me that he had changed his mind about the Cuban Revolution
    and Fidel, he did so for the first time in January 1992 at the Riviera Hotel, in a room that had been reserved
    by the Interior Ministry. Captain Mario Dortas (a.k.a. Ramon) and Pepe had been following us on the
    Malecon Bulevard and surprised us from behind before we reached our destination. Pepe joked that they
    had seen us walking swiftly and laughed to themselves, “Look how fast the gringo is walking!” We had not
    seen Pepe for two years and it was a great moment for the three of us. They took us to the Riviera Hotel
    and Ramon opened all the doors with his privileged card. He took us to a nice room and the four of us sat
    down around – what else? – a bottle of rum to enjoy a happy welcoming chat. My wife and I narrated to
    them how we decided to visit Cuba at the last minute during our holidays in Colombia and on impulse were
    now there. Ten minutes into our talk, Captain Ramon excused himself to go to the bathroom. That’s when
    Pepe blurted out a whisper: “Billy, I’ve changed. I'll to see you tonight in your hotel.” The shock wave that
    ran through us is indescribable. Pepe called me by my real name instead of by the name everyone knew
    me in Cuba: Enrique. Was this the same Pepe we had talked to two years earlier? Was this the fanatic
    communist, loved and trusted by his colleagues, despised by his own family, that defended the Revolution
    so tenaciously, saying that he would die in the Sierra Maestra fighting the Yankees if they ever invaded?

    Years later I would discover through Pepe’s own lying AmWay mouth on a Miami program that the Riviera
    had been bugged from head to toe at least as early as 1988, perhaps even four years earlier. The job was
    contracted to the East German Secret Service (Stasi) by Interior Minister Ramiro Valdes who, according to
    researcher Jorge Luis Vazquez, also on the program, was “suspicious of everything and anyone”. And why
    wouldn’t the Cuban G2 have suspicions of me if I had opened my mouth and sneered at the revolutionaries
    in their faces in 1990 and had now come to the island unannounced? What had Officer Pepe, the fanatic
    communist who served as our guide on our first visit, written in his report to his superiors in 1990 if Fidel,
    who took all the trouble and expenses to thank us personally for helping the Revolution, decided not to meet
    us after all?

    What makes it all the more treacherous is that Ramon moved us from the Saint John’s Hotel to the Riviera
    the next day and in the coming days we would meet with Pepe ‘in secret’ in our ‘private’ room and conspire
    with him in front of hidden cameras and recorders. Pepe put us at ease, saying that the Cuban Government
    would need to carry out a special operation to install gadgets if they wanted to record us. He said that there
    were no suspicions on us and that he would be notified of such an operation because we were in his care. In
    retrospect, the entire ruse was masterminded and supervised by the Interior Ministry. The CIA and the FBI
    would agree with my assessment during our extensive debriefing/interrogation/meetings at the end of March
    1993.

    What the Cuban Government never suspected was that Pepe was genuinely trying to defect. Pepe had
    indeed suffered a philosophical reversal after I pounded him so much during our four week stay in Cuba
    in 1990. He had two years to think about what I had said and had come around. Pepe had opened his
    eyes, awakened from communist hypnotism. The beatings had converted this born again revolutionary
    into a fervent anti-revolutionary atheist, but, having awakened from hypnosis, he adroitly kept it to himself
    and later disclosed it only to close  friends and family. Pepe was not acting in front of the cameras, or
    you could say in the alternative that he acted so naturally because he had genuinely made a philosophical
    change. The Revolution rewarded him with its version of  an Oscar for his performance: it promoted him
    from lieutenant to captain. Then Pepe sailed away from Cuba, pointing his center finger at Fidel, without
    even saying goodbye to his wife.

    But Pepe did not give me any intelligence information on this, our second trip, nor ask me to go to the CIA.
    And although we had met his wife Lazara in secret a couple of times, we had not yet met Roly. We told our
    Cuban handlers – Captain Dortas and Major Onelio Beovides (a.k.a. Rene) – that we would love to return
    in six months during our next vacation and they thought it was a good idea. In March, during our scheduled
    meeting in Mexico, we arranged to have joint vacations with our handler Luis Aguero. He was also planning
    to travel with his wife Luisa in mid year. In June the four of us met on the island and we even got to see our
    handler in Spain again – Feliciano Diaz Pacheco (a.k.a. Felix). We had not seen him since he gave us back
    our real passports in Madrid in January of 1990.
Rolando Sarraff Trujillo


Confessions of a Spy

War of the Words

Betrayer Betrayed

How Intel lost its Pents

...didn't out Ana Montes

    It was during our third trip in June of 1992, a day in which we met ‘in secret’ at Pepe’s apartment in the
    Vedado district of Havana that he asked me to go to the CIA. Pepe introduced us to his high school buddy,
    Lieutenant Rolando Sarraff Trujillo (a.k.a. Roly), who also took us to his home in Playa one night. The three
    of us, together with our wives were now part of PR-2 (Partido Revolucionario 2), the name Pepe would give
    our fledgling cell. Pepe and Roly had prepared a list of names and some photographs, and my wife almost
    fainted at the thought of what we were involved in and doing. She looked at me and said, “You’re not going
    to the CIA, are you?” But one look at my face told her that I was crazier than Daffy Duck. We were in this
    for good and for real. FBI Special Agent James King would later state that there were operational reasons
    for bringing a guy like Roly into the group, so the addition of Roly only raised further suspicions.

    I turned myself in to the CIA on Monday, July 13, 1992 (See page 5). I traveled to Langley and spilled my
    guts to a case agent code-named Katie. Six weeks later FBI Special Agents Jim King and Bob Baker of
    the Austin FBI scheduled a meeting with us at our home and we told the story of what had happened in
    the last 10 years of our lives with luxury of detail. On the second visit the agents asked our permission to
    record us and brought a large recorder for the job. I was one step ahead of them. I had been recording
    since I visited the CIA.

    We met with the FBI agents for about three hours in each of three straight days. During that week, the
    agents asked me to prepare the material that I was supposed to deliver to Luis Aguero in September so
    that the CIA could determine whether I would travel to Mexico and meet with him as scheduled. I gave
    the technical material to the agents the following week. The agents were now complicit in the stealing of
    materials from AMD, but if the CIA decided not to carry out the counter-espionage operation that it was
    planning, the FBI now had material evidence against me in addition to voluntary confessions. As it turned
    out, the CIA decided that I would not travel to Mexico to meet up with Luis, something we had taken for
    granted until then.

    The overture to the US agencies could not have started on the wrongest of feet, lasted so briefly, or
    ended up worse. After Bob Baker told me that I wouldn’t be traveling to Mexico, we figured that we
    would end up in jail and our kids in some foster home… unless we made a run for it. I got rid of seven
    large black bags of things I didn’t want falling into FBI hands, and between sobs we packed everything
    that we could carry, our kids included, and made a dash for Mexico, first, and then to Germany during
    the long Labor Day weekend. In Germany, a lawyer told us that the German Government would extradite
    us to the U.S. We had no choice but to return to the U.S. and start a new life with new identities, a
    private version of the Witness Protection Program. We returned to Mexico and my wife went south with
    the kids to Colombia to pick up our third son who was studying over there. We didn’t want him being
    held hostage by the U.S. or discovered by the Cubans. I crossed the border as I always did, illegally,
    using fake IDs I had made over the years. I went back and forth three times, first to pick up things I had
    stored in a hotel and then to pick up Nila and my sons who had flown from Colombia twice. The first time,
    the Mexican Government sent her back to Colombia, adding enormously to our frustrations, because she
    had no visa to enter Mexico. We sneaked into the U.S. while the FBI was still searching for us in Germany.

    What were the problems? What did the FBI/CIA team argue?

    Among them…

    1. Pepe confessed to me in a room at the Riviera reserved by the Interior Ministry. He waited
         for Captain Dortas to leave us alone. Was this rehearsed, a planned move to allow Pepe to
         confess? There were no suspicions over us? …Even after Captain Dortas told Pepe that
         maybe they should report us to their superiors because we could have been sent by the
         CIA to charaterize Cuban agents?

    2. The material PR-2 sent was ‘good’, but not earth-shattering, just what you would expect
         from a Cuban sting operation. Dangle a worm at the end of the line and let them bite. The
         FBI/CIA team concluded that Fidel’s people were luring them into a trap where U.S. agents
         would be caught in the act of attempting to extract Cuban intelligence officers from the
         island. It had already happened once before. They didn’t want to be on the Cuban nightly
         news again.

    3. Fidel knows every leaf that moves on the island. He’s got eyes everywhere. But here we
         and no one ever found out about it?

    4. I called Pepe from Germany when I escaped from the FBI. Roly and him were supposed
         to run with their families and their guns to the nearest embassy and ask for asylum. They
         didn’t. They told Nila that, fortunately, the listening system was down that week. How did
         they know? Why did they wait to determine that when their lives were supposedly at stake?

    5. Why didn't Lazara provide a cryptocard to establish her fonafides with the CIA if she
         worked at the Crypto Analysis / Cryptography Directories. That information would have
         been more useful than all the names that Pepe and Roly provided.

    6. Maria Luisa Hernandez, Roly’s mother-in-law comes to the U.S. and sends me a package.
         She asks for an extension to stay in the U.S. another three months, just enough time to
         allow me to send word back to Roly and Pepe through her that I made contact with the
         CIA. How did she know that I was really going to do it? Later, Maria Victoria de Bernard,
         a friend of Pepe’s comes out. She’s a 32 year old artist that tells me that she is surprised
         that she got an exit visa. Was Fidel behind all this?


    The list went on and on. There were simply too many coincidences and improbabilities. The agencies did
    not bite. They decided to wait. Three couriers later, the Cuban members of PR-2 had nothing to show for
    their efforts. They had not established their bonafides.



    How Roly got caught

    While the Cuban agents were safe in their little island, suffering no more than the rigors of daily life to which
    they were accustomed, my life had been turned upside down and torn apart. In order to get a measure of
    stability back into it I had to get a job, but who would hire an ex tech spy with a record as long as mine?
    Advanced Micro Devices was looking everywhere for me and Pete Costner, AMD’s Security Chief, kept
    badgering Jim King and John Grant to tell him where I was. What kind of a chance did I have of working
    in the semiconductor industry ever again with such a background and such a bloodhound hounding me?
    Jim King came up with a solution: I would use him and Special Agent John Grant for references. Whoever
    called, they would vouch for me. I finally landed a good job at Intel Corporation, AMD’s competitor, in Chandler,
    Arizona and Jim King would comment one day that it was fortunate that these companies don’t do a thorough
    background check: “There’s not a lot that could be showing up.”.

    However, Pete Costner didn’t give up. Angry at what I had done and frustrated that the FBI wouldn't tell him
    where I was, he circulated my name at the Semiconductor Industry Association. John Grant told me one day
    that, “They put a wanted poster for you over there.” I asked him if the words underneath my face read ‘Dead
    or Alive’ and we both laughed.

    Costner’s gamble paid off. One day I got a call from Intel Security Chief Steve Lund, an ex-FBI agent. He
    wanted me to cooperate in an ‘internal’ investigation as required by my contract with Intel. Apparently, Lund
    wanted to collect evidence for an ‘external investigation’ – AMD – an ironic cooperation between these two
    enemies. John Grant couldn’t do anything to protect me from these vultures, and I realized immediately that
    it was a matter of time before I would be fired. I either cooperated with Intel and went to jail or I didn’t
    cooperate and would have to look for a new job, certainly not one in the semiconductor industry. King and
    Grant were probably not going to go out of their way to recommend me for yet another job when these two
    giant companies were already in the process of tying the rope around the branch.

    I decided to take a little bit of insurance in case Intel took unwarranted drastic action. Intel had installed a
    terminal in my home so that I could support the fabrication area 7/24. I stealthily obtained security clearance
    from my boss Rodney Baba to log into the Albuquerque database where they manufactured the state-of-the-
    art Pentium. Knowing that security was sensititve to downloads, I scrolled the entire spec system over two
    days, some 12 hours each – not a trivial job – and filmed the screen. Then we packed our bags with my wife
    and traveled to Athens, Greece.

    My troubles were just beginning that day. My wife called me while I was on the road home and told me that
    Grant was rushing from Phoenix to see us. Fortunately, I beat him to the draw. I got home, took my passport,
    some critical tapes I had, and some gold coins, put them in a box, and tied a rope around it. Then I slowly
    lowered the  box over the fence into my neighbor's back yard. If Grant came with a search warrant, he would
    be slightly disappointed.

    Grant and another agent, who introduced himself as Jack Smith, didn’t come in nicely. They barged in and, I
    have to believe that Smith was sent to make sure Grant didn’t kill me. Grant was furious. “Why did you film
    us? Why did you record us?”

    I sat there like a little boy pouting and waiting for the fury to die down, but it didn’t until Grant took his
    briefcase and slammed it as hard as he could against my wobbly plastic table. He had missed my leg by
    an inch. "You know what you are, Billy?" he shouted. "You are God damned paranoid!"

    I waited for a strategic 3 seconds before replying under my breath. “When you’re working with the FBI and
    the CIA, if you’re not paranoid, you’re dead!”

    That was the magic spell that broke the nasty mood. The two agents released their tension and laughed out
    loud for over a minute. Before leaving, Grant walked to my oven from which I had secretly filmed him many
    timesand waved bye-bye to an inexistent camera.

    However, Steve Lund was also working overtime on the case. He hired a detective to follow me around and
    this man discovered that I kept a Surgard storage box under the name Bill Green where I put some stuff
    before going well as a copy of Intel’s Pentium specs. When we returned from Greece, all hell broke loose.
    I received a call from two detectives, Slade Chestnut and Al Hiser of the Phoenix Police Department. They
    wanted to talk to me about the robbery that had occurred at the Surgard storage. That was funny? They
    rob my storage and the agents want to talk to me? It’s like someone robbing the bank and they arrest the
    depositors who were standing in line.

    Fortunately, Steve Lund called before I went to the police station and put me at ease. I was going to go to
    jail. He told me that he had in his hands a bag containing Intel proprietary material that a couple of dumpster
    divers sold to him for $500. Some of the contents of the bag had my name on them.

    Huh? Break in? Dumpster divers? The police nab two robbers, but they let them go? No charges filed? And
    the police want to talk to me? If that wasn’t the fishiest story you ever heard!

    Lund also told me that he had given some tapes I had made of agents to the FBI. John Grant would not be
    very pleased when he found out that I had been filming and recording the agents since who knows when.

    I went to work on Tuesday, May 31, 1994, with the conviction that it was the last day of my life. Steve Lund
    didn’t upset those expectations too much. Not 15 minutes had gone by when Lund and a platoon of about six
    Intel soldiers marched into the room, scaring the hell out of my startled co-workers. He asked me for my
    badge and the brass escorted me to the doors, perhaps fearful that I might swipe some more technology
    on the way out. Off I went to another adventure in my never-ending saga.

    A tail of two cities

    Pepe tells me in a couple of letters we exchanged in July of 2009 that Roly was punished strictly for
    vengeance, for having been his friend...


    "A Roly lo sancionan en Cuba sin pruebas de nada, por simplemente haber sido amigo
    mío de niño, querían dar un escarmiento... , Roly es inocente de todo lo que se le
    acusa, pero quisieron dar un escarmiento para amenazar a los demas oficiales de
    inteligencia amigos mios... Roly esta preso y jamas podrian desmostrar nada de lo
    que le acusan "

    "Roly was punished in Cuba without evidence of anything, for simply having been my
    boyhood friend, they wanted to set an example... Roly is innocent of everything that
    he is accused of, but they wanted to set an example to threaten other intelligence
    officers who are friends of mine... Roly is in prison and never will they be able to
    prove anything of what they accuse him."


    What Pepe is saying is clearly a lie. If Roly would have been punished for being Pepe’s friend, they
    would have arrested Roly immediately after Pepe defected like they did with Lazara. Roly was arrested
    over a year later and after serving abroad at the Cuban Embassy in Russia. Roly was sent overseas as
    a representative of the Cuban Government and lured back to Cuba on a pretext. They would have recalled
    him immediately if they intended vengeance upon Pepe’s defection.

    What actually happened is that Pepe was in contact with Roly through third parties throughout this period.
    Roly was channeling information to the CIA through Pepe Cohen and planning his getaway. When I turned
    Roly in through my letter to Marcos, they must have put an eye on him. I sent Marcos a color copy of the
    picture of Maria Luisa Hernandez, Roly’s mother-in-law, who had come to the U.S. to bring me information
    from PR-2. I wrote a quick note on the back of the picture explaining some things about her that only I would
    know if she was in contact with me. If this courier was unknown to the M-VI, it certainly would have raised
    an eyebrow. Maybe Roly was preparing something on his own, in parallel, a channel that the Interior Ministry
    didn’t know about. Maybe PR-2 was playing in two fields, one of which was hidden to the security forces.
    Any way I look at it, I can’t imagine Marcos ignoring the letter and not having had second thoughts about
    Roly. They must have put a tail on him like the CIA put one on me in Buenos Aires to see who he was
    working through.

    And betrayers betray amongst themselves. Not only did Pepe betray me, but he betrayed Roly and Lazara
    as well. In the letter Pepe wrote in March of 1993, we read some famous last words:


    “I will try to travel if only for business. Purpose to see you. When we leave with [our]
    families we won’t return [to] Cuba. Only to struggle for change. He who leaves first
    of us two must wait for the other. We are all determined to leave before for example
    in [a] container, in [a] diplomatic bag if situation requires it.”


    Well… Pepe didn’t wait for Lazara or for Roly. He made plans on his own when he realized that the CIA
    wasn’t going to come for him. In his letter dated July 23, 2009, he writes...


    "Yo sentía que algo andaba muy mal, y prepare la salida de Cuba"

    "I sensed that something was wrong, and I prepared my getaway from Cuba"


    Pepe left Lazara and Roly behind holding the bag. Together with my denunciation, it cost Roly 20 years
    of his life.  I did a few less. I did only 3.

    But I cannot imagine that Marcos took no action regarding the other two after what was in the package.
    And I have to believe that Baudilio Quintiliano, whom I knew personally and who still worked at the Cuban
    Embassy in Buenos Aires, received the package I sent him. The way I figured there were three possibilities:

    1. If the Cuban Government was behind PR-2, then Fidel knew all about Roly and Lazara
         because he sent them purposely to channel information to the CIA through me. Fidel
         would have laughed at my letter and take no action.

    2. If, instead, the Cuban Government did not know about PR-2, Fidel would have arrested
         Roly and Lazara and executed them both.

    3. If Fidel knew all about PR-2, he would take no action. But then Pepe escapes and now
         there had to be suspicions that maybe Roly and Lazara also had secret plans.


    I personally think that this last one is what actually occurred because Lazara was briefly detained for
    questioning when Pepe escaped. However, since the M-VI knew about Lazara’a participation in PR-2,
    everything with her was in order. She had no idea that Pepe was about to escape – maybe he feared
    marriage more than he feared Fidel. That reply would have satisfied the interrogators. Maria Victoria de
    Bernard had told me that Lazara had quit her job at the Interior Ministry in March of 1994 in order to take
    care of her three kids. And Lazara was not actively planning to leave the island. So she became irrelevant
    to the Interior Ministry in every sense. They merely kept an eye on her now and then. Lazara was certainly
    under surveillance after Pepe defected like the family of Onelio Beovides (Rene) was watched after he
    allegedly defected.

    Roly, on the other hand, was not detained. Assuming the Interior Ministry knew about him belonging to
    PR-2, there was nothing in my letter that the decision makers didn’t know. However, Pepe’s escape
    certainly had to raise a flag. Maybe the three participants that the Interior Ministry had selected to
    bamboozle me were not acting in front of the cameras. Maybe they really intended to elope.

    What was interesting is that Roly was sent to work overseas in Russia before Pepe escaped. Keep in
    mind that Roly was NOT a cryptographer as President Obama stated on national TV. Roly knew
    absolutely nothing about cryptography. Whatever he knows about cryptography after the U.S.
    Government releases him are the rudimentaries of Cryptography that the CIA taught him these days in
    preparation for his press conferences. Roly  is not being debriefed nor being checked medically any
    more than Alan Gross is. Roly is undergoing a steep learning curve as I write. Roly was a gadget man.
    He planted bugs and interviewed people to characterize them and determine who was loyal to the
    Revolution. Then he would write reports to his superiors. Roly worked in the  M-XV which did
    wiretapping and surveillance of agents. The M-XV did NOT do Cryptography (M-VIII) or Cryptographic
    Analysis (M-XI). The Cuban system at that time and certainly today, just like the U.S. system, is strictly
    compartimentalized. One section knows nothing about what’s going on in its sister department. Therefore,
    Roly not only did NOT work in Cryptography, he had no access to codes or cryptographic information,
    much less to encryptions used to communicate with moles and spies in the field. This information is
    jealously guarded and controlled very carefully.

    But the information that I sent to the Interior Ministry certainly had to follow him to Moscow. Here was a
    guy who was supposed to surveil people in the embassy who was in turn being surveilled by others, spies
    who take advantage of information they have on other spies. The counter-espionage agents were onto
    him. The betrayer had been betrayed.

    Pepe denies it today, but Roly was in contact with him. The CIA had established a wormhole to the
    invisible parallel universe of Cuban intelligence through these two close friends. That was the value of
    Pepe to the CIA. That’s why he lived the first few years in the vicinity of Langley. They did so through
    third parties which both knew and trusted.

    Roly was recalled back to Havana under a pretext and shortly after landing at Marti he was arrested
    and put away for good. Pepe lost his contact and was of no further use to the CIA. He became – what
    else? – a successful AmWay salesman. And Lazara ended up in her own prison, waiting now for 20
    years for the Cuban Government to grant her an exit visa. Although all three of these individuals are
    excellent human beings and I love them for who they were, I will never forgive their vile betrayal despite
    that I am sensitive to the fact that they were under the gun to act against me in Cuba. We went to Cuba
    with my wife to help them and their children get out and they stabbed us in the back. They had several
    occasions to whisper in certain areas we visited and where we were alone that the whole thing was a
    setup.

    The letter

    I traveled to Buenos Aires in June of 1994 with a hefty baggage of tapes and documents, left some things
    in place, and then made my way up north to Colombia. I spent a couple of months making copies and
    organizing my plan. Sensing that I was being tailed – spies are always paranoid – and having no further
    business in Colombia, I traveled back to Argentina to put my plan into practice. I arrived on September 16,
    1994, unaware that Pepe Cohen had rafted out of Cuba a month earlier.

    A couple of days later, I sent three packages, one through each of three Cuban Embassies. One of them
    went to Baudilio Quintiliano who worked for the M-VI and thus for Marcos. I have no doubts that he or
    someone at the embassy received the package and forwarded it to Havana.

    The packages contained a letter addressed to Colonel Agustin Broche (a.k.a., Marcos), head of the M-VI.
    I told Marcos that Pepe had been the one supplying information to the CIA through me. I attached the
    letters that Pepe, Roly and Lazara had sent with my wife to identify themselves with the CIA. The package
    also contained color copies of the photographs Pepe and Lazara sent through Maria Victoria de Bernard
    and recordings I had made of FBI and CIA agents.

    The letter was asking Marcos for Cuba to request my extradition from Argentina on whatever charge. I did
    not know whether there was an extradition treaty between the two nations, but I had no doubt that the U.S.
    would sooner or later place an extradition request with the Argentine Government or pressure that
    government to turn me in. The corrupt politicians and judges in Argentina would sacrifice me without batting
    an eyelash. I was suggesting to Marcos that Cuba do the same. My goal was really for the Cubans to
    make my case public to prevent the U.S.  from getting away with it in secret. The way I figured, if Cuba
    also requested me I would have a chance because it would be out in the open. Cuba couldn’t hide me.
    They’d have to prosecute me out in public. Conversely, if you happen to fall into Uncle Sam’s hands, you
    might as well have fallen into a black hole. I’d much rather be in a Cuban than in a U.S. prison. The U.S.
    would throw the key away and bury me alive. No one would ever know. The Cubans worked on your body.
    The Americans worked on your soul. The Americans would go out of their way to destroy your mind.

    I also harbored hopes that the Cubans might try to use me in some way and maybe work with me, a way
    of pardoning me for my reversal. I might be more useful to them alive than dead or in solitary confinement.
    I would join people like Robert Vesco and Philip Agee as pariahs, hiding in the island from the great wrath
    up north. If the U.S. was interested in me, that automatically made me of interest to the Cubans. I was
    convinced I would have better luck with Fidel than with Uncle Sam. The U.S. was already finishing up its
    illegal underground torture chamber at ADX Florence. And as it turned out, the U.S. did in fact put spies
    like Hanssen and Myers in there to torture them for their great betrayal. Therefore, I was not mistaken in
    my assessment. I would rather take my chances with Fidel’s firing squad.

    I have to believe that Marcos did not ignore my letter. If PR-2 was a concoction of the Cuban Government,
    they would laugh at my letter. They knew all along that Pepe, Roly and Lazara were fiddling with me.
    However, the letter arrived shortly after Pepe escaped and that probably alerted the authorities to the
    possibility that maybe the trio was playing for keeps.
Crossing the border into Nuevo Laredo,
Mexico, with a trunk load of goodies for
the Cubans. It was always a family trip.
In Mexico after a meeting with our handler
Julian, 1987. In Germany, after escaping
from the FBI, Sep 1992.

    For seven months we were on the road, going from campground to campground while the posse looked for
    us in hotels and tracked our credit card usage. The kids loved it. No school. No work. An eternal vacation.
    We settled in Phoenix and started up a business cleaning homes. The elderly community in Sun City and
    Sun City West would be our natural market.

    But my mother-in-law was dying and Nila had to make the trip to Colombia. Using a fake ID to get out of
    the U.S., she traveled to Bogota and then used her Colombian passport to get into Havana. We had to
    find out what had happened to Roly, Pepe and Lazara. Special Agent King had told me in one of my calls
    to him while on the road that he was going to stir the beehive and that it had the potential to uncover the
    members of PR-2. I had no doubt what that meant. Fidel would execute them.

    Nila took a taxi to Pepe’s apartment the first night and left a note with a sign, a code we had established
    indicating that we were in town. Pepe went to work and didn’t see the note lying at his feet when he
    crossed the threshold of his home. About an hour later, Nila knocked on the door and Lazara couldn’t
    believe her eyes. That night, Roly and Pepe joined them and they met ‘in secret’ in Pepe’s bathroom,
    talking in the dark for fear that their words could be seen. Lazara went back and forth bringing coffee.

    Nila didn’t need to worry about how she would get back into the United States. We had originally planned
    to get her back through Mexico. Instead, she called me from Bogota telling me to turn myself in to the FBI
    again. She had incredible news – literally! Major Onelio Beovides (a.k.a. Rene), the second ranking officer
    of the M-VI, had fled the country and was in the hands of the CIA. And Pepe, Roly and Lazara had provided
    some more information that, together with Rene’s defection, would establish their bonafides with the
    American agencies.

    I called Jim King and gave him my whereabouts. When Nila came back the FBI brought us to Austin and
    set us up in a hotel. They ‘debriefed’ us for a week, lie detector included, and the outcome was not even
    close to what I had imagined. Rather than us convincing them that Pepe, Roly and Lazara were for real,
    they convinced us that Pepe, Roly and Lazara were secretly working for Fidel Castro. We were stunned.
    We ran, ran, ran, and ended up in the same place! It was likely that the Cuban agents had no choice,
    that they were working under the gun, but by the 1st of April, our 17th Anniversary, there was no doubt
    in our minds that the Cuban Interior Ministry was behind the entire thing. Pepe had been fooling us since
    at least as early as of January 1992. The probabilities of PR-2 being genuine were out of the charts.
Fake
IDs
FBI SA Jim King didn't recognize
me when he saw me after 7
months of hunting me down. The
FBI set us up at an Austin Hotel
and 'debriefed' us for a week, lie
detector included.
I placed a camera on a tripod in front of the terminal that Intel installed in my home and
over two days filmed the entire state-of-the-art Pentium spec system from the company's
Albuquerque, NM, database. Then we traveled to Greece.
Intel termination notice.
AMD and Intel bloodhounds:
Pete Costner and Steve Lund
The Oven Cam
FBI Special Agent John Grant filmed from the oven
as he is paying me.
The letter I sent together with tapes and other
information to Marcos (Colonel Agustin Broche),
the head of the M-VI, in September of 1994,
turning the members of PR-2 in. Each package
contained the letters that Pepe, Roly and Lazara
wrote to identify themselves with the CIA, a
couple of photographs and tapes of U.S. agents. I
mailed them to three Cuban Embassies.
Roly? A cryptographer who
passed codes to the United
States? Obama's really got
to be kidding!
Roly was sentenced to 25
years. He served almost
20 until President Obama
got him out of Cuba in the
Dec 17, 2014, Spy Swap.
Rolando Sarraff Trujillo - Betrayer Betrayed

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