The secrets behind the spies

The International Spy Museum is the summer sensation in Washington. Its not-so-secret mission: educate about espionage.

By PAUL DE LA GARZA, Times Staff Writer
© St. Petersburg Times
published August 15, 2002

[Times art: Don Morris]

WASHINGTON -- A sign in the lobby of 800 F Street NW warns: "For your eyes only. Entry beyond this point is on a need-to-know basis."

"Who needs to know?" the sign continues. "All who would understand the world. All who would glimpse the unseen hands that touch our lives."

Then it explains the mission.

"You will learn the secrets of tradecraft -- the tools and techniques that influence battles and sway governments. You will meet men and women living by their wits, living in the shadows of world affairs. More important, however, are the people you will not meet. The most successful spies are the unknown spies who remain undetected."

The bulk of those spies live their cover -- they spy under an assumed identity -- in Washington, the spy capital of the world.

Which may help explain yet another lobby curiousity at what has become one of the summer sensations in Washington: the $40-million International Spy Museum.

The fee schedule reads:

Admission: Adults, $11.

Seniors, military, intelligence community, $9.

Children, K-12, $8.

[Photos courtesy of the International Spy Museum] Hidden coat camera

The museum opened in mid July. Since then, the line to get in has snaked for blocks -- and for hours in the sweltering sun -- around the cluster of buildings that once housed the American Communist Party.

"Romance, intrigue, adventure and manipulation, that's what makes people so interested," said museum adviser Oleg D. Kalugin, a former KGB general known for organizing the elimination of a Bulgarian dissident with a poisoned umbrella.

"Manipulation of public opinion, the media, individuals -- for any youthful mind, that's very intriguing and exciting."

E. Peter Earnest, the museum's executive director, attributes the 3,500 daily visitors to the unknown. "Look," said Earnest, a former CIA man who previously led tours of historic spy sights in Washington, "people have always been interested in secrets. 'What is going on that I don't know about?' "

PAGING MAXWELL SMART: The KGB would install a tiny radio transmitter, complete with microphone and batteries, in the heel of a person under surveillance.

KISS OF DEATH: The KGB devised a lipstick pistol in 1965. No doubt there was little kiss-and-tell from the assassin who used it.

IT’S IN A SPY’S MAKEUP: A spy’s career depends on his or her ability to stay undercover. Often, that calls for a disguise. This is a sample of a disguise kit.

What is going on at the International Spy Museum is a display of espionage history, dating to the first record of spying in 1800 B.C. (a clay tablet), that is sure to leave spy buffs slacked-jawed. You'll see the expected: a pistol fashioned out of a lipstick case and a trench coat equipped with a miniature camera in a button. And the unexpected: a radio beacon made to resemble dog doo and an escape kit with lock picks and other tools made to fit, well, in the rear. Shaped like an aluminum container made to hold one cigar, the official name of the escape tube is the Rectal Tool Kit.

Other gizmos include miniature cameras in wrist watches and neckties, a listening device in a tree-stump replica, a gun attached to the side of a glove, a video camera hidden behind sunglasses, and a pigeon equipped with a miniature camera for aerial reconnaissance. During war, pigeons have also been used to drop supplies behind enemy lines.

"Fascinating," said Felipe Vilvano, a 28-year-old lawyer visiting from Honduras. "I'm stunned."

But it's not all about the gizmos.

The museum also features multimedia exhibits and interactive displays.

Milton Maltz, the museum creator -- and one of the founders of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame museum in Cleveland -- said the idea is to educate people. And make money.

Maltz said he became fascinated with the world of intelligence while working for the National Security Agency, America's ears abroad, during the Korean War.

A former disc jockey, Maltz went on to own radio and television stations.

As a student of pop culture, he said, he noticed people's fascination with espionage, or the so-called black world: the books, the movies, the interest generated by any type of entertainment on the subject.

So he decided to tap the market.

With the backing of some of the founders of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, and the support of the District of Columbia, Maltz opened the museum.

But he wanted to avoid "shoddy presentation." He wanted to appeal to adults, and to kids who are growing up glued to computers.

Most of all, Maltz said, he wanted to educate the public about the importance of intelligence in national security.

"It's the secret history of history," Maltz said. "We know from grade school of world affairs. The history of intelligence doesn't surface in the usual curriculum."

Through-the-wall camera

Escape boots

At the International Spy Museum, you're bombarded with facts. For example, the first manual on spying tactics was The Art of War, written more than 2,000 years ago by Sun Tzu. The first organized "spy apparatus" was established in England in 1570. In 2002, the number of intelligence agencies operating worldwide is 421. Every day, the United States spends an estimated $82,191,780 on intelligence.

Upon entering the museum, visitors hear voices. They seep from hidden speakers and drip with foreign accents into the lobby.

You are being watched. You must be careful. All is not what it seems. Suspicion is my business.

You were never here.

Say nothing.

Visitors then proceed to the ID area, or "school for spies," where they receive covers and legends. Among the choices: Asad Sharma, male, 26, USA, software developer; Yuan Zhang, male, 39, China, dentist; Angelena Falcone, female, 21, Italy, travel agent; Antonio Silva, male, 58, Brazil, carpenter.

There's also Maxwell Smart.

"Spies must master four basic skills," the museum literature says. "The ability to observe a scene accurately, to blend in with the crowd, to assess risks, and to respond to threats swiftly and cooly."

In an interview, Kalugin made this observation: "The greatest challenge is to turn a potential enemy into a friend. This is how I saw intelligence."

During the tour, which lasts two to three hours, visitors stop at checkpoints -- computer terminals -- to be interrogated on the details of their cover.

"You must know your cover story thoroughly," begins the manual on Personal Disguise, drafted by the U.S. Office of Strategic Services in 1944. "Know the character or characters you will have to be, inside and out, their clothes, facial expressions, gait, gestures, personal habits, thoughts, and reactions."

Few people know the art of disguise better than Antonio and Jonna Mendez, both former chiefs of disguise at the CIA and advisers to the museum. "We always tell people, think Q, as in James Bond," Jonna Mendez said, referring to 007's gadget wizard.

Camera watch

She began at the CIA as a secretary. Within years, she was taking internal courses in spy photography, and before long, she got her first assignment overseas, training CIA recruits on the use of miniature cameras.

She also gave lessons in the art of secret writing, making words invisible on paper.

She describes the life as "just an amazing adventure." Best of all is the thrill, she said, of "touching the wire" -- spy lingo for influencing the course of history.

By the time she left the agency after 27 years and a world of assignments, she had risen to the top job in disguises in the Office of Technical Affairs.

And, she will tell you, she was good.

Consider, for example, that Jonna is a white woman. With technological advances, she once managed to pass herself off as a black man.

She once donned a disguise to brief the first President Bush, a former CIA man, in the Oval Office. She was made up to look like a young woman -- a woman who existed -- who was getting ready to leave the agency.

The idea was to bring the president up to date on the latest technology involving disguise. Moments into the meeting, she revealed her identity.

The president's reaction?

"Oh, he loved it," she said.

In 1997, Antonio Mendez was one of 50 trailblazers chosen by the agency as part of its 50th-anniversary celebration, which also was an attempt to burnish its image.

Though the CIA has no official connection to the museum, it has been helpful. As part of its public relations campaign, the CIA has also cooperated with the producers of the CBS drama The Agency, allowing shooting at its headquarters. The Mendezes serve as consultants on the program.

Mendez said he decided to participate in the International Spy Museum "so the public at large knows (we're) real people, not deranged assassins. . . . Even though you're lying for a living, it's a worthy profession."

Like his wife, he loved the profession.

"It's exactly how you'd expect it to be and more," said Antonio Mendez, author of the book The Master of Disguise. "They couldn't even do it in motion pictures. The gravity of the real job far exceeds anything James Bond has ever done."

On any given day, he said, the Office of Technical Affairs runs maybe 10 rescue operations worldwide, getting CIA personnel out of harm's way.

One of his finer moments is captured on a museum wall: "During the 1980 hostage crisis, his disguises made the dramatic exfiltration (secret exit operation) of six American diplomats from Iran possible. Disguised as a Canadian film crew, scouting movie locations, the diplomats safely escaped Iran.

"Concealing the familiar face of the consul general was especially challenging. The usually conservative gentleman was transformed into a flamboyantly believable film director in tight pants, gold chains and a pompadour.

"The others were similarly disguised through simple changes in hair style, coloring and mannerisms. Looking and acting like the movie folks they weren't, the 'film crew' boarded a plane home and Mendez received the Intelligence Star of Valor."

The Mendezes, who collaborated on the upcoming book Spy Dust, are tight-lipped about the secrets of the trade. Government manuals at the museum offer a few guidelines, however.

"Never use a disguise except as a last resort, but when you do, play it for all it's worth," advises a 1944 U.S. government spy manual.

Under "Disguise, quick changes," one exhibit display advises, "Walk differently, try slowing down, put a pebble in your shoe, take longer strides. Change your expression, squint your eyes, tighten your lips, furrow your brow. Blend in: Are you wearing bright colors? Bad idea. They make you stand out. Avoid things that others will notice."

A disguise kit on display includes a comb, scissors, cold cream, dye brush and mixing dishes, tweezers, swabs, mirror, spirit gum and mustache materials, as well as a heel insert to change your walk.

Mendez, a one-time plumber, joined the agency in 1965. He responded to a "blind ad" in the Denver Post to work as an artist overseas with the Navy. For the interview, he found himself in a motel room with the shades drawn and a Sam Spade-type character, with fedora, sunglasses and a bottle of Jim Beam.

"You know, this is not the Navy," Mendez recalled the man telling him.

After he showed Mendez his credentials, he offered him a shot.

Mendez took a swig.

"I was 25," he said.

The job was to make forgeries and false documents. From there, he, too, ended up overseas, running operations all over the world.

"I've forged and counterfeited in every language of the world," Mendez said.

Seven years after joining the agency, he became the chief of disguise.

He refers to his specialty as "identity transformation," using forged documents and disguises.

Kalugin, the former KGB man, served three stints in the United States during his career: as a Fulbright scholar at Columbia University in New York, as a Radio Moscow correspondent at the United Nations, and as a press officer at the Soviet Embassy in Washington.

He, too, worked the gadgets -- the small cameras, the miniature tape recorders concealed in innocuous objects. He said he got a kick out of his first visit to the museum, "to see all that stuff in public display."

"They used to be all secret artifacts," he said.

Not everyone, however, has been as happy with the museum. Kalugin said he has fielded complaints from "other foreign services," grousing that they're not well-represented.

The former KGB man tells them they can display whatever secrets they like.

"It's up to them to say what they want to show the world," Kalugin said.

At least he said he was Kalugin.

At a glance

The International Spy Museum is open daily from 10 a.m. to 8 p.m. April through October, and 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. November through March. For more information, see www.spymuseum.org or call toll-free 1-866-779-6873.

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