Cuban spying tactics unveiled
Secret files used against five on trial
BY ALFONSO CHARDY AND GAIL EPSTEIN NIEVES
They were perennially short of money and always nervous about
being detected.
But the small band of alleged Cuban spies deployed in South Florida
showed
striking determination to accomplish their intelligence missions
and professed
undying loyalty to Fidel Castro and his revolution.
This look at their lives comes from about 1,400 pages of records
confiscated by
the FBI from encrypted computer disks.
Spontaneity had very little place in the agents' very scripted
days. They kept
detailed financial reports, listing all expenses down to kitchen
cleaners ($6.88),
haircuts ($10) and roach repellents ($6.75).
They memorized fake life stories, held clandestine meetings at
Miami
restaurants, worried greatly about shaking surveillance, and
feared that the
Internal Revenue Service would notice their unexplained incomes.
Their love lives suffered, too, because they feared that women
would wonder why
they used public phones -- instead of home phones -- to answer
middle-of-the-night beeps.
One agent asked Havana if he should have a series of girlfriends
so his neighbors
would stop questioning his solo lifestyle.
The once-secret and encrypted reports from the agents to control
officers in
Havana, New York and Mexico City -- and back -- reveal the alleged
tactics and
techniques of Cuba's spies and their strategies to infiltrate
the leading anti-Castro
exile organizations in Miami, as well as military installations
in South Florida.
Though the Cuban spy suspects sometimes have been portrayed as
bumbling --
they never managed to get hold of any classified U.S. secrets
-- the documents
nevertheless paint a picture of disciplined covert-action officers
trained in
intelligence gathering.
Federal prosecutors released the documents last week in response
to a court
order obtained by The Herald and other news organizations. The
documents are
key evidence in the current Miami trial of five men arrested
in 1998 as suspected
Cuban spies -- part of a larger spy ring known as La Red Avispa
-- the Wasp
Network.
Five others accused of being spies pleaded guilty and are expected
to testify
against their former comrades.
The men on trial in U.S. District Court acknowledge working on
orders from the
Cuban government, but they deny gathering classified information
or having the
intent to harm U.S. interests.
Four other Wasp Network alumni managed to elude U.S. authorities
and returned
to Cuba, including Juan Pablo Roque, a former Brothers to the
Rescue pilot who
mysteriously vanished from Miami-Dade the day before a Cuban
fighter plane shot
down two Brothers planes on Feb. 24, 1996. Roque quickly resurfaced
in Havana,
saying he had been working for the Cuban government all along.
While the suspects were under surveillance by federal agents for
at least four
yearsbefore their 1998 arrests, they had blended into the community
and quietly
infiltrated at least two major exile groups -- Brothers and Democracy
Movement --
and one military installation, the naval air station at Boca
Chica near Key West.
They had fake names and code names with documents to match. Most
also had
elaborately concocted cover stories about their past.
Havana inserted them and four others -- including Roque -- as
deep-cover moles in
South Florida, according to the indictment.
Their assignment: to ``penetrate'' or burrow into the community,
including the
Cuban American National Foundation and key military sites such
as the Southern
Command, which oversees U.S. military activities in Latin America
and the
Caribbean.
Three men on trial -- Gerardo Hernández, Ramón Lavaniño
and Fernando
González -- acted as so-called illegal officers, or full-time
intelligence operatives,
prosecutors say. The two others -- U.S.-born René González
and Antonio
Guerrero -- were ``agents'' who took directions from illegal
officers but had no
direct contact with Cuba, according to prosecutors.
The illegal agents reported to Havana by shortwave radio, beeper
and computer
messages. Occasionally, they would meet fellow spies assigned
to Cuban
diplomatic missions in New York and Mexico City, according to
the records. The
Cubans also used diplomatic pouches to move intelligence information.
The documents show that Gerardo Hernández's journey from
Havana to Miami
began in February 1998, when Hernández, posing as a Puerto
Rican named
Manuel Viramontez, traveled from Havana to Mexico City, where
he acquired fake
documents from Cuban agents. From Mexico City, Hernández
flew to Memphis,
where a suspicious U.S. Immigration and Naturalization Service
airport inspector
nearly caught him.
In the line for U.S. citizens, Hernández presented a fake
U.S. birth certificate
showing he had been born in Cameron County, Texas, and a fake
driver's license
from Puerto Rico.
Patricia Mancha, an INS spokeswoman in Miami, said U.S. citizens
can reenter
the United States with a birth certificate and a photo identification
in case they
don't have a passport.
The INS inspector demanded a passport, and when Hernández
said he didn't have
one, the inspector pulled him out of the line for further questioning.
The inspector
ultimately returned the documents to Hernández and let
him go.
``You have to get a passport. It helps,'' the inspector said.
Havana was upset. Handlers there blamed Hernández for the episode.
``You proceeded too defensively,'' Havana said.
Havana was angry, according to the messages, because covert-action
experts
there spend considerable time and money concocting cover stories
for agents.
For example, a 31-page cover story for agents claiming to be Puerto
Rican
contained ``memories'' of the ``homeland'' in case someone questioned
them
closely about the island.
Hernández, one of those accused of being ringleaders, also
was one of the most
descriptive in his reports. He faces the most serious charge:
conspiracy to
murder the four men who died in the Brothers to the Rescue shoot-down,
by
allegedly passing along to Havana the men's flight plans.
In one such report to Havana, he explained in detail how posing
as a 30-year-old
single man living by himself was beginning to raise eyebrows
in his neighborhood.
``Some neighbors have commented to me that they find it strange
that I, being a
young man, apparently polite and with good characteristics, etc.,
live alone for so
long,'' wrote Giraldo -- a code name that prosecutors attribute
to Hernández.
Concerned that his neighbors' questions could blow his cover,
Hernández -- who
is married in Cuba -- wondered whether Havana would prefer that
he get a
girlfriend or several girlfriends.
Being a spy, however, made dating difficult -- particularly when
he was required to
keep rigorous radio contact with Havana in the mornings and evenings.
Hernández ultimately discarded the notion of multiple girlfriends
and proposed
bringing his wife from Cuba instead.
Antonio Guerrero, an alleged spy known as Lorient, also worried
about romantic
relationships. Guerrero, born of Cuban parents in Miami and now
42 years old,
reported from the Boca Chica Naval Air Station near Key West,
where he worked
as a janitor and watched for signs of a possible U.S. invasion
of Cuba.
He also devoted considerable time to his difficult relationship
with girlfriend
Margaret Becker, a masseuse to whom the agent did not reveal
his true identity.
Becker frequently nagged Guerrero to marry her.
``She brings up the subject once in a while and I try to get out
of it, as best as
possible,'' Lorient wrote in one report.
Guerrero also worried about money, a problem that often plagued other agents.
While the agents lived in a world of capitalism, they never forgot
their communist
past. They often began their written reports with effusive revolutionary
greetings.
Detection seemed the agents' constant fear. But while they took
intricate
precautions to elude surveillance, ultimately they failed.
For years prior to the arrests, federal agents had intercepted
the agents' radio
communications, occasionally entered their homes and apartments,
and followed
them.