American History Tellers - Traitors | Nightmover | 4

Episode Date: November 24, 2021

On June 13, 1985, Aldrich Ames packed up six pounds of top secret documents into a plastic bag and walked out the door of the CIA headquarters. He drove to lunch, where he gave the documents to a Soviet diplomat. They contained the identities of America’s most important spies within the Soviet Union.Not long after, the Soviets told Ames that $2 million had been set aside for him. Ames had become the highest-paid American spy of the Cold War, and his betrayal would soon prove disastrous.That fall, the CIA was mystified by a string of mysterious disappearances. The agency’s best assets within the Soviet Union were vanishing, never to be heard from again. But it would be years before investigators uncovered the mole within their ranks.See Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Wondery Plus subscribers can binge new seasons of American History Tellers early and ad-free right now. Join Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Imagine it's November 1985 at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. You're an analyst in the office of the Soviet division, and it's been a rough few weeks. First, a former agent, Edward Lee Howard, defected to Moscow after spying for the Soviets. Then you lost contact with two critical Soviet assets, double agents who'd been passing intelligence to the CIA. Now you're at your desk, huddled over case files, trying to connect the dots between the disappearances.

A colleague pokes his head over the wall of your cubicle. Morning. You in the middle of something? I'm working my way through some debriefings on the Howard case. I can't believe the damage he's caused. Well, I'm afraid I come bearing more bad news. Oh God, what is it this time? Another asset gone missing. Codename Accord. KGB colonel based in Hungary. Your colleague tosses the colonel's case file on your desk. And it's a damn shame too. He was a huge help.

Oh, you've got to be kidding me. No, I wish I were. They arrested him in Budapest a few days ago. Dragged him back to Moscow. He's probably being interrogated as we speak, if he hasn't already been executed. You certain? We've completely lost contact. Howard's treachery strikes again. You turn back to the files on your desk, rifling through all your information on Edward Lee Howard. Wait a minute. There's no way Howard knew Accord. He never worked on any cases based out of Budapest. Well, if Howard didn't blow his cover, how did the Soviets figure out he was working for us? I'm not sure, but it's a big problem.

This is the third asset we've lost this fall. We might have to consider that this isn't entirely the work of Howard. We might be dealing with an active mole inside the agency. Nah, there's no way. If this was the work of a mole, the KGB would never take out so many assets at once. They wouldn't want to raise suspicion, put their source in danger. Maybe they broke one of our codes or bugged a field office. Uh, yeah, I'm not so sure.

You look down at the case file on the missing colonel, staring at a small photograph of the man. Another asset gone. More and more, you're convinced that these disappearances can't be the work of Edward Lee Howard. There's got to be another double agent actively working inside the CIA. One who's exposing the agency's most important sources at the KGB. And if you can't find him, more operations and lives will be lost. We'll be right back. Paul can do it. I'm your host, Brandon Jinks Jenkins. Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. Have you ever wondered who created that bottle of sriracha

that's living in your fridge? Or why nearly every house in America has at least one game of Monopoly? Introducing The Best Idea Yet, a brand new podcast about the surprising origin stories of the products you're obsessed with. Listen to The Best Idea Yet on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. From Wondery, I'm Lindsey Graham, and this is American History Tellers.

Our history, your story. In the fall of 1985, the CIA learned about a string of disturbing disappearances. Its best Soviet double agents and informants began vanishing, never to be heard from again. Investigators could only come to one conclusion. There was a mole in the CIA. And slowly, signs began to point to an unlikely suspect, a counterintelligence officer named Aldrich Ames, who was entrusted with critical information on Soviet assets. Ames was a mediocre agent, with a drinking problem and a desperate desire for money. But his seniority gave him access to the agency's most sensitive files, and he would use that access to perpetrate the worst intelligence breach in the

history of the Cold War. This is Episode 4 in our four-part series on America's most notorious traitors, Nightmover. Aldrich Ames was born in River Falls, Wisconsin in 1941. His mother taught at the local high school, and his father, Carlton, was a college professor specializing in Asian history. In 1951, when Ames was 10, his father was recruited by the CIA. The agency was only four years old and was casting a wide net for new hires with expertise in Asia. Afterward, Ames moved with his parents and three younger siblings to Burma, giving him a taste of life abroad. But his father, Carlton, had a drinking problem and received abysmal performance evaluations.

After two years in Burma, he would never work abroad again. The family moved back to the United States, to the Washington, D.C. suburb of McLean, Virginia, not far from CIA headquarters, where Carlton continued to work. It was there in Virginia where Aldridge Ames, nicknamed Rick, grew up and went to school. He was a class clown in his high school, known for his cleverness and wit.

When he was 16, his father got him a summer job working at CIA headquarters as a handyman and clerk, and he developed an interest in the intrigue and excitement of international espionage. But after high school, he enrolled at the University of Chicago to study theater with hopes of becoming an actor. But he began drinking heavily and flunked out in his sophomore year. Ames never forgot, though, his fascination with his father's workplace. So in 1962, he applied for a full-time job at the CIA. He worked as a clerk for five years, then entered a training program to become a full-fledged spy. A few years later, in 1969, he married a woman named Nancy, and the pair moved to Turkey for Ames to begin a tour at the CIA station in Ankara. Three years later, in 1972, Ames returned

to headquarters to work in the Soviet and Eastern European Division. He picked up Russian quickly, and his superiors considered him a talented thinker and analyst. But they doubted his suitability for field work. His evaluations noted his inattention to detail, his inability to file reports on time, and his sloppy tradecraft. And Ames was beginning to gain a reputation around the office as an alcoholic. The CIA's Office of Security cited him for drunken behavior at Christmas parties for two years running. Still, in 1974, his bosses took a gamble on him and named him case officer for an asset named Sergei Fedorenko,

a Soviet delegate to the United Nations in New York City. It was there in New York that Ames would make a grave mistake that nearly cost him his career in espionage. Imagine it's 1976, a cold winter's day in New York City. You're an FBI agent working in domestic counterintelligence, and you just arrived at the apartment of the local CIA base chief. You're here to help manage a potentially disastrous situation. Just a few hours ago, one of the chief's agents left a briefcase full of classified documents on the subway. You take a seat at the kitchen table across from the guilty agent, a man named Aldrich Ames. His clothes look like he slept in them, and his head is buried in his hands. Okay, Ames, walk me through what was in the briefcase. Did you have any files in there

on Fedorenko? Unfortunately, yes. There was a page or two on the agenda from our meeting. A few photographs. Of Fedorenko? Yes. You're kidding me. Photographs. I'm sorry.

I don't know what to say. I woke up at four this morning to catch the first train out of D.C. I was on the subway heading to the safe house in the Bronx. Got drowsy. Must have dozed off. And then when I arrived at my station, I just left. I raced off before the doors closed, and I left my briefcase behind. But as soon as I realized my mistake, I searched everywhere, I swear. I crawled through trash cans at every station to the end of the line. After an hour, I figured I'd better call

the base chief. You rub your temple in frustration. You're racking your brain for how you're going to fix this mistake. You understand the stakes of this, right? The Soviets at the UN ride the same subway. We're going to have to get Fedorenko new phone numbers and safe houses. This man's life is on the line. The base chief picks up the phone, listens for a second, then hands the receiver to you. It's another agent from your FBI field office.

Yeah. Really? Well, I guess today's our lucky day. All right. Thanks. Good news, Ames. Apparently, a teacher found the briefcase and brought it to the FBI. There were a couple of documents on the outside pockets that mentioned the Bureau. You see relief wash over Ames' face. Oh, thank God. I cannot believe you would leave classified documents in the outside pockets, let alone leave your briefcase on the subway. But for now, it looks like your carelessness saved the day.

You are so lucky your screw-up didn't get Fedorenko killed. Ames just looks down at his hands. You can't believe anyone this incompetent would be trusted to handle such a key asset. If it were up to you, he'd be fire on the spot. But the important thing is, the documents he lost have been recovered. So for you and your fellow FBI agents, the case is closed. Whatever happens next to Ames, he's the CIA's problem now. In 1976, Ames accidentally left a briefcase full of classified

documents on the subway. The briefcase was recovered, and despite a near disaster, the only repercussion for his mistake was a verbal reprimand. Amos spent the next few years on assignment in New York, where he handled important Soviet assets for the CIA. He had been long fascinated by double agents, and extracted complex insights from his debriefings with high-ranking Soviet UN officials. During this time, his drinking was under control, and he received strong performance evaluations and several promotions.

But at home, his marriage had grown strained. In 1981, he moved to Mexico City, where he continued to work on Soviet matters. Ames was now 40 years old. He was tall and thin, wore large aviator-style glasses, and combed back his receding hair. While in Mexico, Ames lost interest in his work and began drinking heavily again. Then, in 1982, he met Maria del Rosario Casas de Puy, a cultural attaché at the Colombian embassy. The pair soon began a relationship. Rosario was attracted to Ames' intelligence and worldliness. She ignored her misgivings about his drinking, which she believed was the result of

his unhappy marriage. The next year, in 1983, Ames separated from his wife and moved back to the United States to work at CIA headquarters, with Rosario Dupuy in tow. He began divorce proceedings, and Rosario soon became a U.S. citizen. That same year, Ames was made chief of the counterintelligence branch of the CIA's Soviet division, responsible for the security of global Soviet operations. Many colleagues were shocked by the promotion. For years, Ames had received criticism for his tendency to procrastinate, his poor skills at developing assets in the field, his careless mistakes, and his drinking. There were even humiliating mentions about his poor hygiene,

rotten teeth, and disheveled clothes. But Ames had also been praised by superiors for his intellectual curiosity, his analytical abilities, and his writing skills. And despite his shortcomings, he remained supremely confident in his own talents. While he lacked the street smarts to be an effective field agent, he was well-suited to a desk job in counterintelligence. By the 1980s, the division had a reputation as a dumping ground for intelligence misfits who struggled to work in the field. And Ames' title, Chief of Counterintelligence, sounded more impressive than his job actually was. He wielded little power within the agency. Still, the new role gave Ames access to some of the CIA's most sensitive information, including the identities of America's spies inside the Soviet Union. The Cold War was

still raging, and America and the Soviet Union were locked in a cat-and-mouse game of espionage. Ames relished spending his time learning everything he could about the Soviet agents and informants who secretly worked for the United States. But at home, Ames was confronting a midlife crisis. He was burdened by debt, made worse by the costly divorce from his wife Nancy. And he was finding it difficult to pay for Rosario's lavish tastes. So in 1985, he decided to use his unique position to boost his finances. That spring, Ames got approval to cultivate a spy, a Soviet diplomat named Sergei Shuvikin. The CIA knew Ames would be taking meetings with Shuvikin. They wouldn't be suspicious if he used these meetings for his true purpose.

In April, Ames met with Shuvikin and passed him a note, identifying his position at the CIA and offering up the names of two Soviet double agents. In exchange for the information, he asked for $50,000. A month later, Shuvikin paid up, passing Ames the cash at a long, booze-filled lunch. Ames had initially planned on a one-time financial exchange. He was confident that no one would find out what he had done and that there would be no consequences. The assets he exposed had provided little useful intelligence to the agency and wouldn't be missed. But as time passed, fear began to creep in.

He later reflected, It came home to me, the enormity of what I had done. I had crossed a line. I could never step back. Ames began to feel that there was only one path forward. A few weeks after he received the $50,000, he began to contemplate escalating his betrayal. By this time, Ames had worked at the CIA for over 20 years and had grown disillusioned with the agency. The mystique of spycraft had long since faded, and Ames was ready to put himself first.

More than anything, he was motivated by greed. He knew more about traitors to the Soviet Union than almost anyone, and he knew that intelligence could make him rich. Ames justified his actions as leveling the playing field because he knew America's spy network was far more robust than the Soviet Union's. But in contemplating the scope of his treason, Ames worried that the CIA's Soviet assets might learn about his deception and inform on him. It occurred to him that if he compromised the very spies with the power to expose him, it would eliminate the threat. So in late May 1985, Ames began assembling

a six-pound stack of documents in his office at CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia. It was a comprehensive dossier that contained the identities of every important Soviet spy secretly working for the United States. At the time, the CIA did not have a policy of examining packages carried out of the building by employees. So on June 13th, Ames stuffed these documents into a plastic shopping bag, walked out the door of headquarters, and drove to a bar to meet Shovakin. The pair ate lunch, and Ames slipped Shovakin the bag. In doing so, he handed the Soviets the keys to the kingdom. The bag contained documents on at least ten critical spies. It was the largest

amount of sensitive information ever passed to the Soviets in a single meeting. Soon after, the KGB told Ames that two2 million had been set aside for him to be paid out in increments. The bounty made Ames the highest-paid American spy of the Cold War. For Ames, now there really was no turning back. He was a double agent, working for both the Soviets and the CIA.

And for the assets he had just exposed, the consequences of his betrayal would be deadly. Dracula, the ancient vampire who terrorizes Victorian London. Blood and garlic, bats and crucifixes. Even if you haven't read the book, you think you know the story. One of the incredible things about Dracula is that not only is it this wonderful snapshot of the 19th century, but it also has so much resonance today. The vampire doesn't cast a reflection in a mirror. So when we look in the mirror, the only thing we see is our own monstrous abilities.

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If Paul asked you to do something, it wasn't a request. It was an order. I'm your host, Brandon James Jenkins. Follow Criminal Attorney on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Criminal Attorney early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. In the summer of 1985, CIA official Aldrich Ames had become a mole, passing secrets to the Soviets. And he was making him a wealthy man, earning him over $2 million from his Russian handlers. To escape the notice of banking regulators and the IRS, Ames broke down his cash deposits into amounts less than $10,000.

And to avoid any suspicion at work about the sudden change in his finances, he told his colleagues that Rosario had come from a rich family in Colombia. In August of 1985, Ames' divorce from his first wife was finalized. Nine days later, he married Rosario. That same month, Ames was selected to be the handler for Vitaly Yurchenko, one of the highest-ranking KGB officers to ever defect to the United States. Paul Redmond was the chief of the Yurchenko task force, and he hated Ames from the start. Redmond had a hot temper, and he was furious that someone so lazy and careless had been put on Yurchenko's case. But Ames' proficiency with Russia won him the role. Ames was no fan of Redmond either, believing his Russian language skills were

lacking. Four days a week, Ames met with Yurchenko in a nondescript office in a suburban shopping center. But he also broke the rules by bringing Rosario to Yurchenko's home for dinner, which frustrated the by-the-book Redmond. All the while, Ames kept his Soviet contacts up to date with all the information he gleaned from the debriefings. Soon, the consequences of Ames' betrayal began to emerge. Beginning in the fall of 1985, several of the CIA's most important Soviet double agents started to vanish. From September through December, the CIA lost contact with assets codenamed Way, Jogger, Accord, Million, and Fitness. These were all high-ranking KGB double agents and military

men based in Moscow in Eastern Europe. All of them would ultimately be executed. Initially, CIA analysts blamed the losses on a former employee named Edward Lee Howard, who was exposed as a spy by Vitaly Yurchenko. In September 1985, Howard slipped away from FBI surveillance agents and escaped to the Soviet Union. But it soon became clear that Howard alone could not explain all the disappearances. The CIA had lost assets Howard could not possibly have known about. Then, over the next year, more CIA operations were compromised. But officials were reluctant to consider the idea that a current employee could be a mole. In the 1970s, a CIA officer named James Jesus Angleton had launched an obsessive

hunt for moles that led to dozens of wrongful accusations and destroyed careers. Angleton's ruthless tactics damaged morale at the agency, and the memory of his witch hunt made agents unwilling to accuse one of their own. In 1986, Ames began learning Italian, preparing for a new assignment in Rome. Before he left, he was required to take a routine polygraph exam. Ames was terrified his espionage would be discovered, but he passed the test. In July, he and Rosario packed their bags. The Rome assignment was a plump position. Ames was tasked with handling European covert operations and counterintelligence. During his three years there in Italy, he continued to meet with KGB officers, exchanging intelligence for cash. The KGB worked hard to protect Ames from discovery.

They created red herrings and disinformation so that the CIA would not suspect a mole in the counterintelligence division. In 1986, a Soviet intelligence officer told a CIA contact that a mole was stationed at a training center in Warrington, Virginia. This false tip sparked a fruitless, year-long investigation into 90 employees. Meanwhile, Ames and Rosario gave birth to a son in 1988 while in Rome. The following year, the family returned to Washington, where Paul Redman became Ames' boss in the Soviet division. Redman had not forgotten Ames' careless work habits, and he tried to get him transferred to another division, but his efforts failed.

Meanwhile, Ames continued passing secrets to the KGB. But he no longer met with his handlers in person. Instead, he left classified documents in prearranged hiding places, known as dead drops. Ames' espionage went unnoticed despite clear warning signs, especially in his finances. After his return from Rome, he bought a house for $540,000 in cash and spent $100,000 more on renovations. He sported Italian designer suits and parked a brand new Jaguar at CIA headquarters. But many employees at the CIA came from wealthy, upper-class families, and they didn't see anything unusual in Ames' lavish spending. Most believed Ames' story that the new house was a present from Rosario's rich uncle. But Ames did not completely escape scrutiny. In 1989, a colleague

who knew Ames and Rosario in Mexico submitted a report questioning Ames' finances. That prompted an investigation, but it progressed slowly. Investigators wanted to subject Ames to a polygraph, but to avoid arousing his suspicion, they decided to wait until 1991, when Ames was scheduled for his next routine test, required for employees every five years. It was that spring that Ames grew anxious again about facing the polygraph. He had made millions betraying U.S. secrets, and he knew there was a chance that, at long last, his luck might finally run out. Imagine it's April 1991 in an office building in Tyson's Corner, Virginia. You're a polygraph examiner conducting lie detector tests on CIA officers. Your last appointment of the day is with an agency veteran

named Aldrich Ames. Ames steps into the room wearing thick glasses and a rumpled jacket. He looks about 50 with receding hair and a graying mustache. From your file, you know he's a desk worker, not a field agent. So you expect this test to be pretty routine. Mr. Aldrich, please have a seat. Ames shuffles into a chair and takes off his jacket, wiping sweat from his forehead. Please, Rick is fine. Whew, hot today, isn't it?

Well, I hadn't noticed. I barely left this room all day. Now, I'm going to strap this cuff on your arm and this other monitor around your chest. Ames nods as you hook him up to a small briefcase-sized polygraph machine. Well, I figure I better tell you this now. My wife gets an allowance of sorts from some wealthy relatives in Columbia. Oh, short thing. That must be nice. You make a note. It's not unusual for an employee to volunteer financial information like this before the test.

All right, let's begin. We'll start with some standard questions and get a read on your normal vial signs. Can you tell me your full name? Aldrich Hazen Ames. And your date of birth? May 26, 1941? You watch the polygraph needle scratching the paper readout, measuring Ames' heart rate, breathing, blood pressure, and perspiration. You make a note of his baseline levels for a truthful response. All right, very good.

Now we'll start the exam itself. Ames takes a deep breath and nods. Are you concealing any financial difficulties from the agency? No. You look at the readout. The levels are the same as when you asked for his name. You mark down his answer as truthful. Are you working for a foreign intelligence service?

No. Another truthful answer. Are you concealing any unauthorized contacts with foreigners? No. This time you frown as he watches the needles on the machine jump, indicating deception. Are you concealing any unauthorized contacts with foreigners? No. Once again, the machine records his response as a lie.

Okay, one more time. No. It's a routine question, and you're surprised to see this kind of response from a desk agent. But you assume the reason his vitals are jumping are because of his wealthy Colombian family members. CIA officials who marry foreigners often receive extra scrutiny, and he's probably just nervous about it. Okay, Rick, well, there's a problem on this question. You're going to need to come back in a few days and retake the test. Oh, really? How strange. No, I wouldn't worry about it. Really, it's nothing out of the ordinary,

but standard protocol in this situation is to give you another exam, and I'm sure that'll resolve things. Are you sure? Completely. This happens all the time. As you unhook Ames from the machine, for a fleeting moment, you see something shifty in his eyes that makes you wonder if he's hiding something. But the moment quickly passes, and you dismiss the thought. This disheveled bureaucrat in front of you hardly seems capable of espionage. In April 1991, Ames failed a routine polygraph examination, but the examiner was unaware that Ames was being investigated for his finances.

And according to standard procedure, he instructed Ames to return a few days later to be tested again by a different examiner. This time, Ames passed the test with no issues. The results of the second polygraph eased investigators' suspicions. But just to be sure, in July 1991, they sent an agent down to Columbia to gather information on Rosario's family. They chose a rookie for the assignment, and when he learned that the family had some holdings in an import-export business, it satisfied him that Ames was telling the truth about the source of his wealth. The investigation was closed, and Ames received no further scrutiny. Then, in 1991, the Soviet Union collapsed, ending the Cold War. Still, Ames continued to spy for

Russia. It had been six years since he gave away a bag of top-secret intelligence that resulted in the deaths of several CIA assets, but the agency was still no closer to figuring out the source of the leak. That year, Paul Redmond decided to get to the bottom of the mystery himself. Unlike most of his colleagues, Redmond was sure there was a mole at the agency, and he was determined to find out who it was. The CIA's official role is to gather intelligence, not catch criminals, even within its own ranks. So Redman decided it was time to call in the FBI to assist with the case. In the summer of 1991, the CIA and FBI launched a joint investigation to look for the mole.

The team began by looking into employees who knew about the compromised Soviet agents. Ames was one of many possible suspects. The following year, in 1992, Rosario first learned about her husband's espionage after she found a note in his wallet about a meeting with the Russians. Ames had always told her that their money came from well-placed investments, so she was shocked to discover the Russians. Ames had always told her that their money came from well-placed investments, so she was shocked to discover the truth. But ultimately, Rosario was unwilling to turn on her husband or to give up their lavish lifestyle, so she encouraged him to continue. But Ames' extravagant spending finally drew closer scrutiny from CIA investigators.

Redmond's team examined a trail of financial evidence, including hundreds of thousands of dollars of credit card bills and the cash payment for his house. Critically, they discovered a pattern of bank deposits in increments just under $10,000, something Ames did to avoid IRS reporting requirements. CIA investigator Sandy Grimes cross-referenced the dates of the deposits to the dates of Ames' known meetings with the man they suspected was a Soviet handler, Sergei Shovakin. Grimes realized that every time Ames had lunch with Shovakin, he would make a large cash deposit soon after. It was clear that Ames' meetings with Shovakin hid a secret purpose, one that was making him rich.

There could be only one explanation. In his lunches with Shobakin, Ames was betraying his country in exchange for cash. Grimes went to Redman's office and closed the door behind her. She told him, it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell what's going on here. Rick is a goddamn Russian spy. By the spring of 1993, Aldrich Ames was the CIA's leading suspect. Redman was certain that Ames was the CIA's leading suspect. Redmond was certain that Ames was the person responsible for one of the worst counterintelligence fiascos in the agency's history, but he knew he would have to prove it. The FBI and the CIA were about to embark on an intensive investigation to make sure the charges against Ames stood up in court.

Ames was about to face sweeping and constant surveillance. Agents would be watching his every move as the mole hunters closed in. For more than two centuries, the White House has been the stage for some of the most dramatic scenes in American history. Inspired by the hit podcast American History Tellers, Wondery and William Morrow present the new book, The Hidden History of the White House. Each chapter will bring you inside the fierce power struggles, the world-altering decisions,

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Richard Bandler revolutionized the world of self-help all thanks to an approach he developed called neurolinguistic programming. Even though NLP worked for some, its methods have been criticized for being dangerous in the wrong hands. Throw in Richard's dark past as a cocaine addict and murder suspect, and you can't help but wonder what his true intentions were. I'm Saatchi Cole. And I'm Sarah Hagee. And we're the hosts of Scamfluencers, a weekly podcast from Wondery that takes you along the twists and turns of the most infamous scams of all time, the impact on victims, and what's left once the facade falls away. We recently dove into the story of the godfather of modern mental manipulation, Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the godfather of modern mental manipulation, Richard Bandler, whose methods inspired some of the most toxic and criminal self-help movements of the last two decades. Follow Scamfluencers on the Wondery app or wherever you get your podcasts. You can listen to Scamfluencers and more Exhibit C true crime shows like Morbid and Kill List early and ad-free

right now by joining Wondery Plus. Check out Exhibit C in the Wondery app for all your true crime listening. Once the CIA made Aldrich Ames its prime suspect, his superiors transferred him to a job in counter-narcotics to keep him away from intelligence about Russian spy operations. In May 1993, the FBI took control of the Ames case and launched a full-fledged criminal investigation codenamed Nightmover. Bear Bryant had recently been promoted as chief of the FBI's Washington field office. Bryant was a straight-talking former lawyer from Arkansas who decorated his office with Old West memorabilia. He was well-versed in the world of

drugs and organized crime, but had little experience in spy games. He wanted to take a practical approach to the case, treating Ames like any other criminal. On May 24th, Bryant called Special Agent Les Weiser into his office and asked, how would you like to run one of the biggest cases in the Bureau? Weiser had spent a decade steadily working his way up the ranks and was thrilled to take on a case that could make his career. Bryant and Weiser's Nightmovers squad cast a wide net, wiretapping the phones in Ames' home, office, and car. They set up a video camera to monitor his driveway,

and they sifted through his financial records and personal files to get the full picture of his life. By June, Ames was being followed round the clock. FBI agents trailed him everywhere he went, from the grocery store to the movie theater. They even called him into FBI headquarters for a bogus counter-narcotics meeting so that they could place a homing device on his red Jaguar in the parking lot. All the while, Ames was oblivious to the constant surveillance. But their efforts still only yielded weak evidence, circumstantial at best. They needed definitive proof that Ames was a spy. So by the fall of 1993, Les Weiser was ready to turn up the pressure.

Imagine it's September 1993 at the Hoover Building in Washington, D.C., headquarters for the FBI. You're in a cramped conference room with half a dozen other members of the Nightmover team. There are papers and files spread all over the table, and the mood is tense. Yesterday, you were following your target, Aldrich Ames, and just when it seemed like you were finally going to catch him in the act, you lost track of him. I don't know. He did something fishy. I'm not sure what it was. Your boss, Bear Bryant, briefly looks up from the phone transcripts he's reading. Well, the good news is we weren't detected. We just have to stay the course. You walk over to your boss and pull up a seat. Well, I want to run an idea past you.

I think we should run a trash search on Ames. Sift it for evidence. Absolutely not. Don't even think about it. Oh, come on. Trash covers are disgusting, but they're useful. Plus, we don't even have to get court approval for it. Now the risk gets too high. Think about it. Ames lives in an affluent neighborhood with an active neighborhood watch program. What if someone catches you? Tells Ames. If he hears someone's been searching his trash, it'll tip him off for sure. We'll do it in the middle of the night. No one will notice. No one except Ames, you mean. The guy's an insomniac.

He wakes up and walks around the house all the time at odd hours. You pull out Ames' schedule for the next month and slide it across to your boss. Yeah, well look, Ames is leaving the country on Monday for that narcotics conference in Ankara. He won't even be home. We have a golden opportunity here. We might not get another shot at it. The answer is no. We can't risk getting burned on a trash search. Not on a case this important. You get up from your chair, give your boss a tight nod, and walk back to the other side of the table. But you don't care what he says. You're convinced a trash search is going to make the case, even if it requires a little disobedience.

In September 1993, FBI agent Les Weiser defied his boss, Bear Bryant, and had a team search Ames' trash in the middle of the night. The squad combed through the garbage and found a torn-up post-it note. Once they pieced it together, they found a message Ames had scrawled, arranging a meeting in Bogota, Colombia, with a Russian contact. The note erased any remaining uncertainty. Ames was the mole. Agent Weiser's boss, Bryant, called the trash search the finest piece of insubordination he'd ever seen. In October, Ames and Rosario left town for a wedding in Florida, and the FBI seized the chance to search their house.

They found a gold mine of information about Ames' espionage. There were incriminating messages on printer ribbon and floppy disks. Ames' computer contained files regarding dead drop sites and cash exchanges. The team also found a crumpled note from the KGB rescheduling the Bogota meeting. They were stunned at how careless Ames was, leaving so much evidence scattered around his house. But they still wanted proof of Ames actually meeting with Russian agents. So they continued their surveillance.

A few days after the home search, FBI cameras captured Ames leaving a chalk mark on a mailbox. It was a signal confirming the rescheduled Bogota meeting. In late October, Ames flew down to Bogota. On November 1st, FBI agents watched him and his Russian handler in separate locations, but they failed to catch them meeting. So they still waited to arrest Ames. Months went by as the Nightmover team bided their time, hoping for something that would make their case airtight. They wanted to catch Ames in the act, meeting a Soviet contact or leaving intelligence at a dead drop site.

Then in February 1994, Ames was scheduled to attend a work conference in Moscow. The Night Mover team knew there was a chance Ames might try to defect to Russia. They felt they could wait no longer. Weiser planned the arrest for February 21st, the day before Ames' scheduled departure. It was President's Day, a federal holiday, and that morning, he had Ames' boss summon him to the office. Ames got into his Jaguar and pulled out of his driveway. He drove a few blocks through his neighborhood, but when he pulled up to a stop sign, several cars suddenly surrounded him, locking him in. An FBI agent jumped out of one of the cars

and approached, telling Ames to get out of his car because he was under arrest for espionage. As he was handcuffed, Ames cried out, you're making a big mistake, you must have the wrong man. Rosario was arrested in the couple's home shortly after. Two months later, in April of 1994, Ames accepted a plea bargain, agreeing to cooperate fully with authorities in exchange for a more lenient sentence for his wife. He pleaded guilty to conspiracy to commit espionage and tax fraud and was sentenced to life in prison. Rosario was sentenced to five years for her part in supporting her husband's crimes. Ames' betrayal was the CIA's greatest counterintelligence failure. News of his exploits tarnished the agency's reputation,

sowing public doubt about the CIA's effectiveness and making it harder for agents to recruit new sources in the field. With the fall of the Soviet Union in 1991, many politicians and journalists were already questioning the value of the CIA in a post-Cold War world. After the Ames case made national news, those questions only grew louder. In 1994, President Clinton issued a directive establishing the National Counterintelligence Center to help the FBI and CIA coordinate counter-espionage operations. The next year, in 1995, Congress slashed the CIA's budget and passed a bill with a provision requiring the CIA to notify the FBI when it suspected any loss of classified information. CIA officials were shocked by another

rule in the bill that required the agency's chief of counter-espionage to be an FBI agent. It seemed like an obvious rebuke for their delayed investigation into Ames. For his nine years of espionage, Aldrich Ames was paid more than $2.5 million. He compromised dozens of CIA operations, and his betrayal resulted in the deaths of at least 10 people. Today, at the age of 80, he remains in federal prison, serving out his life sentence. The Cold War was over, but even though the United States had won, the Ames case added a dark footnote to that victory. For nearly a decade, Ames sold secrets to the Russians with impunity. In terms of compromised operations and lives lost, Aldrich Ames was the CIA's most

destructive traitor. From Wondery, this is Episode 4 of Traitors for American History Tellers. On the next episode, our guest will be historian Kate Clifford Larson, author of The Assassin's Accomplice, Mary Surratt, and the plot to kill Abraham Lincoln. We'll dive into the debate that still rages over Surratt's role in the Lincoln assassination, and talk about several of the other traitors in our series to try to unpack some of the myths that surround them. If you like American History Tellers, you can binge all episodes early and ad-free right now by joining Wondery Plus in the Wondery app or on Apple Podcasts. Prime members can listen ad-free on Amazon Music. And before you go, tell us about yourself by filling out a short survey at wondery.com slash survey. American History Tellers is hosted, edited, and produced by me, Lindsey Graham, for Airship. Audio editing by Molly Bach. Sound design by Derek Behrens. Music

by Lindsey Graham. This episode is written by Ellie Stanton, edited by Dorian Marina. Our senior producer is Andy Herman. Our executive producers are Jenny Lauer Beckman and Marsha Louis for Wondery. In the Pacific Ocean, halfway between Peru and New Zealand, lies a tiny volcanic island. It's a little-known British territory called Pitcairn and it harboured a deep, dark scandal. There wouldn't be a girl on Pitcairn once they reach the age of 10 that would still have heard it. It just happens to all of us. I'm journalist Luke Jones and for almost two years I've been investigating a shocking story that has left deep scars on generations of women and girls from Pitcairn.

When there's nobody watching, nobody going to report it, people will get away with what they can get away with. In the Pitcairn Trials, I'll be uncovering a story of abuse and the fight for justice that has brought a unique, lonely Pacific island to the brink of extinction.