Siwicki said he was dissatisfied with a paper he had received from another officer who had worked on the bunker project in Poland, and he asked Kuklinski to redo the report.
Kuklinski had been aware of the project, but the technical details were new to him. He called in the officer who had been working on the assignment. The officer, clearly upset as he handed Kuklinski a slim folder of papers, said that because of the sensitivity of the project, he would have to remain in the office while Kuklinski worked. Kuklinski, certain that the CIA would want the documents, said he would need some privacy. Finally, the officer agreed to stand outside, and Kuklinski closed the door but did not lock it, knowing that would raise suspicions. He placed the document on his desk, planted his elbows, and began using the tiny Tubka to snap pictures. He had almost finished when the door suddenly swung open.
Kuklinski looked up, and in the instant he made eye contact with the officer, he curled his right hand into a fist to conceal the camera. He then put his hand into his pocket and exchanged the camera for a lighter. In the same instant, he put his left hand into his other pocket, took out a cigarette, and kept both arms moving naturally as he lit it. “Look,” Kuklinski said to the officer, “it’s really difficult. I don’t know if I can do anything with this.”
Smoking the cigarette, he began pacing the room and expressing frustration at his inability to prepare the memo. Then he returned to his desk and studied the materials again. For fifteen awkward minutes, the officer stood by him. Finally he turned and left, saying he would wait in an adjacent office.
Kuklinski rubbed his face anxiously as he contemplated what to do next. There was no escaping the fact that he had been interrupted photographing classified materials. His shirt was matted to his back with sweat. He stowed the Tubka behind a radiator and walked to the next office where the officer was sitting. Kuklinski wanted to gauge his reaction. If the man looked away, it could mean he suspected him and was intending to report him. As Kuklinski entered, the officer looked up. Kuklinski told the officer he was prepared to tell Siwicki he was unable to produce the memorandum on Albatross, and he asked if the officer wanted to assist him in the report. The man shook his head and left.
Kuklinski returned to his office and peered out the window. A heavy rain was still falling. He saw the officer hurry across the courtyard and through a door into a gatehouse that was near a counterintelligence office. At that moment, Kuklinski considered taking his life: He had his pistol and his pill. But he tried to suppress his panic. There was also a barbershop behind the gatehouse door. Improbably, it seemed to come down to that: The officer was either reporting Kuklinski or getting a haircut.
Shaking and sweating profusely, Kuklinski retrieved the Tubka and left his office. Fearing his office would be searched, he hid the camera behind a radiator in the stairwell on the top floor of the General Staff. Then he left the building and walked into the front courtyard. He stood there, letting the rain soak through his jacket and his clothes, and felt the tension leave his body. He returned to his office, wiped the water from his face, and tried to shake out his dripping clothes. Then he got to work on the report for Siwicki. At about 2:00 P.M., he was interrupted by a call from Siwicki.
“Is it ready?” the general asked.
“Almost,” Kuklinski said. Soon after, he delivered the report to Siwicki’s office, and a bit later, Siwicki stopped by to thank him.
“Why are you so wet?” Siwicki asked.
Kuklinski said he had gone outside to take a break from the assignment. “It was so hard, General,” he complained. Both men laughed.
In a letter to the CIA later that spring, Kuklinski described the incident and said it had led him to question whether using a camera to photograph documents at work was too risky. But because some documents were available to him at the General Staff only for brief periods, he came up with an alternative idea of using a nearby conference room, which was normally kept locked.
Kuklinski also wrote that he and his crew were scheduled to leave for their next “surveillance” voyage through Europe on June 29.
On July 4, 1974, the
Legia
arrived in Copenhagen, and in the evening, Kuklinski and Hanka, who was one of several spouses on the trip, strolled from the harbor toward the main railroad station. It was unusually chilly for a summer night. Kuklinski said he was going to meet some old friends, and Hanka decided to go see a movie. But they arrived at the theater between showings, and patrons were not being admitted. Hanka agreed to wait at a nearby pub, and Kuklinski left alone for the railroad station. Daniel and Henry were waiting near a clock by Tracks ⅚ and ⅞.
Once the trio had arrived in a nearby apartment, Kuklinski described the near-catastrophe that spring as he was photographing documents in his office and his momentary consideration of suicide. He felt confident now that he was not under suspicion. He described Siwicki’s reassuring comments and said General Skalski, Siwicki’s deputy, continued to praise his work. In one recent exercise, Kuklinski’s superiors made a big show of a presentation and a briefing paper that Kuklinski had prepared to party chief Edward Gierek and other “big fish,” as Kuklinski put it, and he was introduced to them. Even the Defense Ministry’s chief of counterintelligence shook his hand and offered compliments.
Daniel and Henry raised the matter of exfiltration―how the CIA would move Kuklinski out of Poland if he felt he was about to be arrested. Kuklinski reiterated that he had no desire to leave Poland. Daniel said he nevertheless should send the CIA photographs and biographical information for each of his family members so that false travel documents could be prepared for them.
After the ninety-minute session, Henry left first, leading Kuklinski back to where Hanka was waiting. As Henry approached the pub, he saw Hanka, in slacks and a knee-length cream-colored coat, shivering in the cold and pacing on the sidewalk. Henry could tell she was upset. It turned out that the pub did not serve coffee, and Hanka, who did not drink, had decided not to stay. As she had waited for her husband outside, several men had accosted her, mistaking her for a streetwalker.
The next day, July 5, Kuklinski met again with the Americans. Kuklinski had presents from Warsaw for both men, and the Americans gave him a pin for Hanka. Daniel later cabled to Langley that the sessions marked the “strongest personal and professional rapport yet with this remarkable man.” On July 6 they met again for an hour and a half. As they finished, they embraced each other. Henry took out the bottle of aquavit and offered a toast.
After the July 1974 meetings in Europe, the CIA prepared a package for delivery to Kuklinski in Warsaw. Under “general requirements,” the CIA noted that Soviet military plans and capabilities “continue to be of primary concern.” A list of “general categories of interest” was included to help Kuklinski decide which documents to photograph. Among them:
1. Soviet instructions, orders, and directives (including exercise critiques) to Polish or Warsaw Pact forces.
2. Information and documents on new Soviet weapons systems. . . .
3. Warsaw Pact War Plans. We prefer Soviet versions of these: Next we prefer any Polish documents concerning war plans (Secret or Top Secret) in Series “K” or “Of Special Importance.”
The CIA’s note was typically exhaustive: It sought the locations, staffing levels, and combat readiness data for Soviet air, naval, and missile units; the locations, descriptions, and control of Soviet nuclear warhead depots in the Polish towns of Borne-Sulinowo, Bialystok, and Sulecin. The CIA also wanted “military budget data and specific cost figures for weapons systems;” details of Soviet activities and doctrine concerning chemical warfare, including information on research, production, testing, warhead fill, and storage; and classified articles from Soviet military journals.
“We would appreciate any information,” the CIA added, on “Soviet or Pact negotiating positions for mutual balanced force reductions in Europe,” a reference to the Vienna arms talks.
The CIA also had questions about Soviet weapons systems, for which the Pentagon wanted to develop countermeasures. One detailed question concerned the Strela, a Soviet surface-to-air missile that was not yet in American hands.
Daniel wrote separately to “P.V”:
I trust that the voyage home was a good one with clear sailing and that all continues well with you and your family. Your wife and son will soon celebrate their birthdays; although I do not know them personally, as I know you, I will be thinking of them on those occasions and wishing all the best for them now and for many years to come. Perhaps one day, God willing, we and our families can all know each other.
Daniel said that after returning to the United States, he had consulted with colleagues about ways to improve Kuklinski’s “personal security.”
He acknowledged the danger. “You realize, I am sure, that we were deeply concerned about the incident in your office,” Daniel wrote. He explained that the agency had included in the package for Kuklinski several new concealment devices for the Tubka camera. Daniel said he wanted Kuklinski’s opinion of the devices and “any suggestions you may have for their improvement.” He moved to the issue of Kuklinski’s security, “which will always be the most important consideration for all of us.”
I understand and agree with your sentiments never to leave your native land; and I am sure that travel from there should never be necessary if we all continue to act with caution and follow good practices in our methods of communication. At the same time, both you and we recognize that unforeseen accidents, such as the incident in your office, can occur.
We have pledged to assist you and the members of your family in any adversity, to the very best of our ability, and we would like to be in a position to honor that promise. I ask then that you provide the details necessary to prepare travel documents for you and your family which can be held ready if they are ever needed. Hopefully you have included the photos and personal data in the package we will receive from you in September.
Daniel added that there had not been enough time in Copenhagen for him to offer “a complete assessment of the work which you have done since we began our association.”
Eagle
6
has asked me to relay to you, along with his warmest regards, the following brief comments made recently at the highest decision-making level of our government.
1. [Soviet] General Staff lectures, especially Glebov’s, are invaluable. They give the best view we have of Soviet tactical doctrine.
2. Of the latest documents received, the most valuable are the Southwestern [Theater of Military Operations]
7
exercise critique and electronic warfare manual. The manual is the best ever received by the government on this subject. The exercise critique was particularly valuable in planning for contingency of Soviet military actions in the Mediterranean.
3. The bulletins on NATO and Western Order of Battle are precisely what the Secretary of State needed for preparing negotiations for the Vienna talks.
Daniel added that Soviet journal articles on military exercises, tactics, doctrine, electronic warfare, and air defenses were all “especially good.”
I know you can be justifiably proud of the work you have done and continue to do . . . We and our associates [in Warsaw] look forward to working with you in the future, just as we have in the past. Until we meet again, I wish all the best for you and your family.
Daniel
Early September 1974 was a time of political turmoil in Washington: President Richard M. Nixon had resigned, and President Gerald R. Ford would soon pardon him. Protesters were marching against the war in Vietnam. Kuklinski followed the news in the Polish press, and he was concerned that antiwar sentiment in the United States could lead to the withdrawal of American troops from Europe.
By September 3, the day of the next CIA exchange, he had filled five more rolls of film, which included the contents of two thick manuals issued by the Soviet Defense Ministry on Soviet air force and navy operations. He inserted photographs of Hanka and his sons and information about the dates and locations of their birth for the CIA to use in producing false documentation. Kuklinski also sent the results of his annual physical, which the agency’s doctors wanted to review.