Luke LaManna

so she decided there had to be more than one mole. She spent a few tough years in the weeds, mostly following dead-end threads that had been planted by the KGB to confuse her. But on this November morning, Jean got a gift way better than a spy novel. Someone knocked on her door, and a young CIA investigator named Dan Payne rushed in. He'd gotten a tip from within the CIA

an unnamed female employee noticed something odd about her co-worker who'd moved back to DC after a three-year tour of duty in Rome. His name was Rick Ames, and apparently he'd just bought a mansion and paid for it in cash. He also drove a Jaguar worth 50 grand, had a full set of veneers, and wore designer suits, all on a meager CIA salary.

an unnamed female employee noticed something odd about her co-worker who'd moved back to DC after a three-year tour of duty in Rome. His name was Rick Ames, and apparently he'd just bought a mansion and paid for it in cash. He also drove a Jaguar worth 50 grand, had a full set of veneers, and wore designer suits, all on a meager CIA salary.

He said the money came from his wife's foreign family, but this woman just didn't buy it. The informant had a final piece of information that sent a chill down Gene's spine. At his old job, Ames had access to files that named many of the CIA's Russian assets who had since gone missing or turned up dead. Gene stared out the window as the rain fell harder.

He said the money came from his wife's foreign family, but this woman just didn't buy it. The informant had a final piece of information that sent a chill down Gene's spine. At his old job, Ames had access to files that named many of the CIA's Russian assets who had since gone missing or turned up dead. Gene stared out the window as the rain fell harder.

Then she turned to Payne and told him their mission was simple. Follow the money. In late 1991, Rosario Ames walked up the marble stairs of her five bedroom mansion in Washington, DC. The one Rick bought when they returned from Rome in 1989. She headed to the massive walk-in closet in her and Rick's bedroom and smiled. It was a cliche, but she thought she might get lost in this house someday.

Then she turned to Payne and told him their mission was simple. Follow the money. In late 1991, Rosario Ames walked up the marble stairs of her five bedroom mansion in Washington, DC. The one Rick bought when they returned from Rome in 1989. She headed to the massive walk-in closet in her and Rick's bedroom and smiled. It was a cliche, but she thought she might get lost in this house someday.

She had to admit she'd gotten used to this life, the mansion, the jewelry, the trips to visit her mom in Columbia, the 24-hour childcare for their toddler, Paul. Thanks to Rick and his friend, Robert, Rosario had everything she wanted or needed. Well, almost everything. Today, she was hunting for an old wallet of Rick's that she wanted to use.

She had to admit she'd gotten used to this life, the mansion, the jewelry, the trips to visit her mom in Columbia, the 24-hour childcare for their toddler, Paul. Thanks to Rick and his friend, Robert, Rosario had everything she wanted or needed. Well, almost everything. Today, she was hunting for an old wallet of Rick's that she wanted to use.

Rosario rummaged in a drawer until she found the little red wallet. She opened it and saw something inside, a piece of paper. She unfolded a faded, typed-up note. It was a set of cryptic instructions telling someone to meet in, quote, the city where your mother-in-law lives. Rosario felt her knees go weak.

Rosario rummaged in a drawer until she found the little red wallet. She opened it and saw something inside, a piece of paper. She unfolded a faded, typed-up note. It was a set of cryptic instructions telling someone to meet in, quote, the city where your mother-in-law lives. Rosario felt her knees go weak.

The note sounded a lot like instructions from a handler, the kind she used to get when she did work for the CIA back in Mexico City. That night, Rick came home from work. He walked over to kiss her, but Rosario stopped him. She held up the wallet and showed Rick the note. In a trembling voice, she asked, who wrote it and why was her mom mentioned? Rick blinked, then took the wallet and the note.

The note sounded a lot like instructions from a handler, the kind she used to get when she did work for the CIA back in Mexico City. That night, Rick came home from work. He walked over to kiss her, but Rosario stopped him. She held up the wallet and showed Rick the note. In a trembling voice, she asked, who wrote it and why was her mom mentioned? Rick blinked, then took the wallet and the note.

He shrugged, saying he wasn't sure. He hadn't used it in forever. Maybe it was a note from an assignment on his last job or something from their Mexico days. Rick brushed it off, but Rosario's doubts kept eating away at her. A couple of weeks later, while they were out to dinner, Rosario asked him again, what was that note in the wallet? This time, Rick wasn't so smooth.

He shrugged, saying he wasn't sure. He hadn't used it in forever. Maybe it was a note from an assignment on his last job or something from their Mexico days. Rick brushed it off, but Rosario's doubts kept eating away at her. A couple of weeks later, while they were out to dinner, Rosario asked him again, what was that note in the wallet? This time, Rick wasn't so smooth.

Rosario saw him fumble and she insisted, no excuses, no stories about this so-called friend named Robert. She wanted the truth. In a voice so soft Rosario had to read his lips, Rick confessed, I'm working for the Russians. Rosario sat in silence. It was almost a relief to know the truth, that his suspicious stories about Robert from Chicago were just clumsy lies.

Rosario saw him fumble and she insisted, no excuses, no stories about this so-called friend named Robert. She wanted the truth. In a voice so soft Rosario had to read his lips, Rick confessed, I'm working for the Russians. Rosario sat in silence. It was almost a relief to know the truth, that his suspicious stories about Robert from Chicago were just clumsy lies.

She felt clear-headed for the first time in months. But Rick was looking rough. Rosario looked at her husband and felt a wave of sympathy. This was the man she'd married, the man she'd vowed to stick with for richer or poorer, for better or for worse. Now they were richer, but things were definitely worse. So Rosario made a new vow. She'd help her husband keep his treason a secret.

She felt clear-headed for the first time in months. But Rick was looking rough. Rosario looked at her husband and felt a wave of sympathy. This was the man she'd married, the man she'd vowed to stick with for richer or poorer, for better or for worse. Now they were richer, but things were definitely worse. So Rosario made a new vow. She'd help her husband keep his treason a secret.

On a fall morning in 1992, Jean Vertife stared out at the counterintelligence parking lot at CIA headquarters. She'd gotten to work early and sat in her office, watching everyone else park, chat, and enter the building.