Luke LaManna

They would never have to worry about money again. All they would have to worry about was how to spend it.

On the morning of August 1st, 1985, Rick walked down the halls of CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, with a bounce in his step. He was feeling great. He was marrying Rosario in a few days, and little by little, he was filling his bank account up with KGB money. Rick headed for his office, greeting everyone he passed. When he got in, he heard his boss call out for him.

On the morning of August 1st, 1985, Rick walked down the halls of CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia, with a bounce in his step. He was feeling great. He was marrying Rosario in a few days, and little by little, he was filling his bank account up with KGB money. Rick headed for his office, greeting everyone he passed. When he got in, he heard his boss call out for him.

Rick went into his office and saw he was looking cheerful too. His boss handed Rick a piece of paper, new intel from Palazzo Margherita in Rome. When Rick read it, his heart sank. A KGB agent named Vitaly Yurchenko had just defected, and now he was on his way to the US to reveal the identity of a mole inside the CIA. Rick felt a surge of panic.

Rick went into his office and saw he was looking cheerful too. His boss handed Rick a piece of paper, new intel from Palazzo Margherita in Rome. When Rick read it, his heart sank. A KGB agent named Vitaly Yurchenko had just defected, and now he was on his way to the US to reveal the identity of a mole inside the CIA. Rick felt a surge of panic.

He was about to be found out, and he had no idea what to do. His boss pulled the page from Rick's trembling hands and asked if he was alright. Rick plastered on a smile and said, of course, this was great news. His boss laughed and said he had even better news. When Yurchenko landed in D.C. the next day, Rick was going to debrief him.

He was about to be found out, and he had no idea what to do. His boss pulled the page from Rick's trembling hands and asked if he was alright. Rick plastered on a smile and said, of course, this was great news. His boss laughed and said he had even better news. When Yurchenko landed in D.C. the next day, Rick was going to debrief him.

Rick went home that night and got plastered, but it didn't make his anxiety go away. The next day, he showed up at the airport like a man heading towards his own execution and with an awful hangover. As he exchanged terse nods with the CIA and FBI agents assembled for Yurchenko's arrival, he felt doomed. For all he knew, Yurchenko would call him out as soon as he hit the tarmac.

Rick went home that night and got plastered, but it didn't make his anxiety go away. The next day, he showed up at the airport like a man heading towards his own execution and with an awful hangover. As he exchanged terse nods with the CIA and FBI agents assembled for Yurchenko's arrival, he felt doomed. For all he knew, Yurchenko would call him out as soon as he hit the tarmac.

But when he met Yurchenko, the man shook his hand and made no sign that anything was wrong. Rick tried to relax, but his guard was still up. Maybe the man was just biding his time. He got even more nervous when he was forced to share a limo with Yurchenko later that day. He couldn't help but notice the Russian's piercing blue eyes were constantly on him.

But when he met Yurchenko, the man shook his hand and made no sign that anything was wrong. Rick tried to relax, but his guard was still up. Maybe the man was just biding his time. He got even more nervous when he was forced to share a limo with Yurchenko later that day. He couldn't help but notice the Russian's piercing blue eyes were constantly on him.

He couldn't tell if Yurchenko was just curious or if he recognized him as the mole. At a safe house in Virginia, Rick took point on debriefing Yurchenko. He handed him a glass of water and asked him to describe the CIA mole. Yurchenko took a long sip. Rick felt the man's eyes boring into him. He wondered if he should just turn around and fess up before Yurchenko beat him to it.

He couldn't tell if Yurchenko was just curious or if he recognized him as the mole. At a safe house in Virginia, Rick took point on debriefing Yurchenko. He handed him a glass of water and asked him to describe the CIA mole. Yurchenko took a long sip. Rick felt the man's eyes boring into him. He wondered if he should just turn around and fess up before Yurchenko beat him to it.

But then the defector spoke, and for the first time in 24 hours, Rick could breathe. The KGB mole Yurchenko described wasn't Rick. It was Edward Lee Howard. another agent who the CIA was already investigating. Rick was safe. But this debrief was going to go on for weeks. He was going to be in constant contact with Yurchenko. He could still sniff Rick out. After all, that was the man's specialty.

But then the defector spoke, and for the first time in 24 hours, Rick could breathe. The KGB mole Yurchenko described wasn't Rick. It was Edward Lee Howard. another agent who the CIA was already investigating. Rick was safe. But this debrief was going to go on for weeks. He was going to be in constant contact with Yurchenko. He could still sniff Rick out. After all, that was the man's specialty.

Yet, as Rick questioned Yurchenko over the next month, his traitor status remained a secret. If Yurchenko knew he was facing off with a mole, he didn't say anything. which just filled Rick's head with more paranoid questions. Was Yurchenko truly in the dark? Or was he a double agent sent to protect Rick by directing attention to another mole?

Yet, as Rick questioned Yurchenko over the next month, his traitor status remained a secret. If Yurchenko knew he was facing off with a mole, he didn't say anything. which just filled Rick's head with more paranoid questions. Was Yurchenko truly in the dark? Or was he a double agent sent to protect Rick by directing attention to another mole?

Either way, Rick typed up reports for the CIA and passed copies to the KGB. Every time he did, he put Yurchenko's life at risk. But Rick was in too deep, and the KGB's money kept filling his bank account. It was too late to turn back now. On May 2nd, 1986, Rick walked down an empty hall at Langley. He was headed for an unmarked black door, and he wished he could stop time. But he couldn't.

Either way, Rick typed up reports for the CIA and passed copies to the KGB. Every time he did, he put Yurchenko's life at risk. But Rick was in too deep, and the KGB's money kept filling his bank account. It was too late to turn back now. On May 2nd, 1986, Rick walked down an empty hall at Langley. He was headed for an unmarked black door, and he wished he could stop time. But he couldn't.

Rick was about to face the black box. That's what CIA grunts called a polygraph test, which agents had to take every five years, or at least they were supposed to. The agency was backlogged, and Rick hadn't had a test in 10 years. Back then, he wouldn't have cared, but now he was terrified. A dark cloud hung above the CIA, and Rick was the secret at its center.