As the others turned to him, Kuklinski began to speak. He said he agreed with Witt. Solidarity must have a high-level source in the Polish government. He paused, leaving an awkward silence. Inexplicably, he suddenly felt an urge to confess. But Skalski interrupted him.
“Enough!”
he barked, waving his hand to cut off discussion. “I am not a security services functionary to screen you gentlemen.” He said the proper authorities would carry out any investigation. Even he might come under scrutiny. Meanwhile, they had work to do.
He has saved my life
, Kuklinski thought as the meeting ended. Unable to concentrate, he left work at 5:00 P.M., thinking about the message he would send that night.
Entering his house, he gestured for Hanka to join him. Speaking softly, he told her they were in danger, revealing that he had been involved in an operation against the Soviet Union that he had believed was vital to Poland’s security. He was about to be found out.
Kuklinski described their limited options: He could await further developments, hoping he would not be arrested. He could ask for help in leaving Poland. “I have a chance to get assistance from the Americans,” he said, but he could not imagine leaving without his family. Or he could take his life.
Hanka was shocked and frightened, but she quickly regained her composure. She said that she was proud of Kuklinski, trusted him, and knew he would never do something wrong. Suicide was out of the question, as was doing nothing. She had sensed her husband’s anxiety in recent months and wondered whether he could withstand the ordeal of a long investigation. Without hesitating, she declared that he should seek help from the Americans in leaving the country. “You must try,” she said, “and if there is any chance, we go.”
Kuklinski embraced his wife and wept. He then went into his study and began collecting materials―his address books, photographs, soluble paper, communications plans, Iskra instructions, film canisters (some still unexposed and in their foil wrapping), and personal papers―that could incriminate him or link him, however innocently, to anyone else in Poland. He saved a few critical documents; he burned the rest in the fireplace.
Next he sat down and typed a message on the Iskra’s small keypad.
Today [Skalski] declared in front of a select group of persons that from a Rome source it is known that CIA is in possession of the latest version of the martial law document. He also reported on passing of other data to American intelligence which will make unmasking the agent possible.
I urgently request instructions for evacuating from the country myself and my family. Please take into consideration that the state border is possibly already closed for me and my family.
I am waiting for personal contact on 3 November at Straz; 4 November at Klatka, 5 November at Skok, or for “call out” at any day at Chmura. End
.
About an hour later, Waldek arrived. As Kuklinski explained what he had done and said he hoped they could escape as a family, Waldek listened in silence. Then he expressed uncertainty about leaving, and asked whether they could trust the United States. “The Americans might get all the information from us, then abandon us,” he said.
Kuklinski said the American military paid attention to every human life. It tried to rescue its pilots behind enemy lines and never stopped searching for soldiers missing in action. He cited the attempted rescue of the American hostages in Tehran. “America is the only country in the world which does
not
abandon its people,” he explained.
Waldek said he would go.
About eight o’clock, Kuklinski left to see Bogdan. Kuklinski knew his younger son faced a difficult choice. Living on the farm in Wiazowna, Bogdan was building a new life, and he was deeply in love with his girlfriend, Iza.
Kuklinski arrived at the farm, embraced Bogdan, and began to talk. His son did not hesitate when his father asked whether he would try to escape with the family.
“Dad,” Bogdan said, “I will go through fire and water with you.”
Kuklinski felt a surge of love and pride but also considerable guilt. Although he had anticipated the possibility of this day for years, he had not been able to prepare his family at all. He told Bogdan he would need his help. He removed the Iskra from his pocket and explained how it worked. They drove together into Warsaw, with Kuklinski teaching Bogdan how to watch for surveillance and how to operate within the gaps. They arrived at the tree-lined Plac Trzech Krzyzy (Square of the Three Crosses), the site of St. Alexander’s Church. Kuklinski’s parents had been married in this church; nearby was the orphanage where his mother had been placed as a child. It was just a few blocks from the American Embassy, close enough for Kuklinski to send a message directly into the compound. As Bogdan provided cover from a distance, Kuklinski walked to the northeastern corner of the plaza, reached into his jacket pocket, and pushed the button to transmit.
When Kuklinski and Bogdan returned home, Kuklinski went into his study to read the latest Iskra message to him. Written without knowledge of his troubles, the CIA’s message included a list of new transmission sites and future exchanges. Kuklinski took his camera and a few items he had not burned―a half dozen rolls of exposed film and some personal papers. He asked Bogdan to hide the items at the farm.
The next day, Tuesday, November 3, Sue Burggraf arrived at the American Embassy. Tom Ryan and his wife, Lucille, were in Berlin with their daughter Maureen on a long-planned vacation. That made Burggraf the acting station chief. She joined a group of embassy officers at Ambassador Meehan’s daily meeting in the “bubble,” a room designed to be safe from outside monitoring. After the meeting ended at about 10:00 A.M., Burggraf returned to her office and noticed that the switch on the Iskra that signaled receipt of a message had not been flipped. She flipped it and immediately heard a beeping sound. Lacking confidence in her language skills, she summoned her colleagues, Evan Davis and Jason Wilcox, to translate. Davis, who spoke Polish fluently, and Wilcox carefully copied the words from the screen.
After Burggraf read the translation, she sent a “Flash” cable―the highest priority―to headquarters with Kuklinski’s news: “Field [officers] in process of considering options left open to us at this point. If borders are indeed closed to him that leaves us with no choice but to exfiltrate not only Gull but wife and possibly both sons.”
Burggraf realized she had no idea whether Gull’s sons were married. “Don’t know if this will include sons’ wives too,” she wrote. “Request HQ’s guidance ASAP.”
When Daniel read the cable a few hours later, he was incensed: How could the agency have failed its best source? He was convinced there had been a leak of Kuklinski’s intelligence. What had gone wrong? Without question, Kuklinski would now have to be exfiltrated. But the timing couldn’t be worse. Martial law was imminent, and surveillance on American diplomats in Warsaw was tighter than ever.
Langley initially instructed Ryan to return to Warsaw, but both Ryan and Burggraf recommended that he remain in Berlin. For the station chief to return to town before he was expected would only arouse the SB’s suspicions and result in even tighter surveillance. At Langley, Daniel received similar advice from a deputy, Steve Weber. “Why don’t we leave him there for now?” Weber said. “It might give us another option.”
The Ryans were told to stay in Berlin.
Daniel briefed John Stein, the DDO, and his deputy, Clair George. They approved the exfiltration, as did Director William Casey and his top deputy, Admiral Bobby Ray Inman. A CIA cable under Casey’s name went to Ambassador Francis Meehan in Warsaw, saying that Secretary of State Haig had been apprised of the situation involving “our prime source.”
Kuklinski was on everyone’s mind. “We appreciate your cooperation,” the cable said. “I wish to confirm that the Secretary authorizes you to do all possible in support of our efforts to protect and possibly exfiltrate this valuable man and his family.”
Daniel and his staff cabled Warsaw with a message to be delivered via the Iskra to Kuklinski: “Your message received. Prepared to assist you. Will meet you at Klatka on 4 November. However, before taking irrevocable step to exfiltrate you and your family from Poland, we need your best estimate of situation. Is it possible, for example, that suspect person is [Colonel Ostaszewicz] and not you? Have you learned any more details today on the investigation?”
Headquarters knew that everything would depend on the ability of Kuklinski and Warsaw Station to carry out the prearranged steps with absolute precision. Burggraf told Davis and Wilcox that neither officer should change his daily routine. Headquarters sent another “Flash” cable to Warsaw that said if Burggraf was free of surveillance, she should be prepared to meet Gull, and perhaps the rest of his family, that night at the site named Straz. Headquarters had included a list of questions for Gull, including a Polish-language version:
a. Were you present when [Skalski] announced the leak of information? If not, who told you about the announcement? Is his info to be trusted?
b. What is the situation as of tonight?
c. Are you positive you can be identified as the suspect?
d. Could the [SB] be sending out feelers to trap the agent into a hasty move?
e. Is it possible that suspect person is [Colonel Ostaszewicz]?
f. Do you know anything more about the Rome source?
The cable outlined the steps Warsaw Station should take to assist Kuklinski:
Please reassure Gull that we stand ready to assist him. If Gull feels that his security is in serious jeopardy and needs to be given safe haven, we are ready to do so. Would like field officer [Burggraf] to be prepared for possibility that Gull will show for tonight’s meeting with wife and two sons. We have no record of either son being married. Therefore, we ask that officer and field be prepared to take Gull’s family into [embassy] tonight.
If Gull shows by himself and asks that he and family be assisted ASAP, but not necessarily tonight, please arrange for 4 November at Klatka, with alternative 5 November at Skok. If we have surveillance on 4 and 5 November, Gull should come to Klatka on 6 November or to Skok on 7 November.
Headquarters included a Polish translation of the message for Kuklinski.
Burggraf asked Davis to hand-print the Polish version of the CIA’s questions for Kuklinski on a small card in letters large enough to be read under a streetlight. She would try to read the message to him and then hand him the card to take home. If Gull’s family was with him, she would be prepared to escort them to the embassy. She waited impatiently for evening to fall.
At one point at headquarters, Daniel telephoned a friend who was chief of the Office of Communications. “We desperately need one of your communicators for a tricky job,” Daniel said, asking to borrow the officer in Warsaw Station who was in charge of sending encrypted cables. The officer would be needed to help drive a family out of Poland. If the assignment didn’t go well, Daniel added, “It’s going to be a big mess.” The officer was made available.
That Tuesday morning, as Kuklinski was driven to the General Staff, he noticed two people standing outside the historic Najswietsza Maria Panna Church, just fifty meters from his house. He had seen them there before. He guessed he was already under surveillance, but figured it would be a few days before the investigation focused on him. At work, Kuklinski found the mood somber, as if a collective depression had set in, but he greeted colleagues and secretaries cordially, masking his own terror. His closest colleagues continued their work, and even in private conversation, no one raised the issue of the leak Skalski had described.
Inside his office, Kuklinski checked his safe. The martial-law plans were undisturbed. He found blank sheets of paper bearing the oval imprint of the General Staff that were to be used to issue field orders in wartime. Years earlier, before even contacting the Americans, Kuklinski had obtained these papers, hoping that in the event of war, he could use them to organize his conspiracy in which Polish troops would lay down arms and not join a military offensive against the West. One day, he had hoped to forward these to the CIA, but he had not done it. Now he would destroy them.
Around noon, Colonel Witt stopped by to discuss the martial-law preparations. Moments later, a counterintelligence officer knocked on the door and invited himself in. Kuklinski could tell that Witt was anxious, but they talked amicably with the CI officer. He asked both men to come to his office the next morning for coffee.