GAYLE
LYNDS LIFTS THE LID ON THE US SPY NETWORK, THE WAR AGAINST TERROR... AND MUCH, MUCH MORE
Q: I’m intrigued by the
idea that this is the Decade of the Spy.
Why is it called that?
GL: What an explosive era
in intelligence we live in today. Not
even during the Cold War was the intelligence community as intensely in the
public eye. Headlines shout the latest
revelations, while espionage soars in popularity in books, film, games, and the
Internet. This truly is the Decade of
the Spy. Citizens
are so acutely aware of the nation’s need for increased vigilance that
applications to the CIA have never been higher.
The president has created a brand-new espionage czar — the Director of
National Intelligence — the most radical structural change in our intelligence
community since the CIA was fashioned from the OSS of World War II. The dangerous uncloaking of Valerie Plame as
a CIA undercover operative has resulted not only in an on-going investigation
but charges against the vice president’s chief of staff. Sales
of spy novels — sometimes they’re international political thrillers, too, as
mine are — have done a complete reversal from the 1990s when publishing
declared anything espionage as dead as the Cold War. Half the books appearing on fiction and
nonfiction bestseller lists are often related to espionage. Fictional spies appear with astonishing
regularity on big and small screens. Hit
movies like “Syriana,” “The Constant Gardener,” and “Match Point” garner award
nominations, while television series like “Alias” and “24” become near icons,
and remarkably quickly. Google lists more than 30,000 entries under “spy club,”
“espionage club,” and “spy fans.”The
Decade of the Spy is both fascinating and perilous — the stuff of great
drama. It rivets the public, it rivets
me, and it’s not likely to be over soon.
And it inspired me to write THE LAST SPYMASTER.
Q: One of the subplots in THE LAST SPYMASTER is
the story of how a spy is trained in the field.
How did you learn about that?
GL: In the novel, the last
spymaster — Jay Tice — is at the top of the trade. He’s based on several spies I’ve known or
researched. It seemed to me that all of
the best shared three traits — ingenuity, resourcefulness, and an unusual
understanding of human nature. As one character describes Jay, “The man of a
thousand faces, a thousand eyes, a thousand wiles. Trusted, honored, revered.” And highly dangerous. You want that man on your side. As
a spymaster, Jay developed his own method to acquire assets, which he called
the BAR code: Befriend. Assess. Recruit.
To create that, I simply distilled basic case officer spycraft — it’s
imperative to know as much as possible about the potential, and then to use
that information to gain his or her trust.
The goal is to convince a potential to do one job for you, no matter how
small or seemingly innocent. With that,
the fledgling asset is compromised, and the spymaster is on his way to owning
his soul. Much
of tradecraft is common sense. Although
spy schools teach a great deal, the finished training is in the field. For that reason, mentors play a crucial part
in a spy’s education. The reader actually gets to experience this by being with
Jay as he trains a young operative. As
Jay explains, the espionage world is like no other, a culture based not only on
lies but on trust. It can be
schizophrenic, but it can also be rewarding.
No one ever leaves it unchanged. And
in the end, if they develop into one of the rare grandmasters as Jay has, they
become enigmas. “He’s capable of anything within reason — his reason,” one spy
observes. “He’s brilliant, witty,
egotistical, impatient, and — above all — courageous. As a spymaster, he exudes an optimism that’s
contagious, and his people acquire a sense of pride and an esprit de corps
others envy. Partly that’s because he’s
got such a strong sense of who he is that he doesn’t bother much about what a
bureaucracy’s going to think.”
Q: I was captivated by the magical cloak that
made wearers invisible in the “Harry Potter” series. Now it seems as if there might actually be a
real one. In THE LAST SPYMASTER, you
describe a lot of terrifying advanced technology — and an invisibility cloak of
sorts is among them. Is all of that real?
GL: The short answer is
no. The long answer is a resounding
yes. Science is advancing with
astonishing speed, and I had a lot of fun pushing the envelope, exploring what
we know, what we expect, and what’s hidden. You’re
right about the cloak — it’s on design boards right
now. In THE LAST SPYMASTER, I call it
Mirror-Me, a sheet of fabric that makes whatever it covers seem transparent by
displaying whatever’s behind, in front. Nanometric video cameras record the
images behind and, in real time, send them to nanometric projectors that
display them on the front of the cloth.
The Pentagon sees a lot of possibility in this invention of course,
particularly for urban warfare. There’s
also real technology behind small computers I invented for the book. Not much larger than a grain of sand, I call
them StarDusts. As one spy explains,
“These little babies are amazing. Tiny
solar batteries fuel them. You program
them to record two or three simple jobs like monitoring motion and
temperature.” They can be scattered like
flower seeds across farms and cities or tossed onto trucks or planes that ship
materiel and people. Then they’ll
network and send detailed data about scientists in clandestine weapons labs or
squads of soldiers back to control centers where high-octane computers collate
the information for secret use. Another
of my favorites is the LandFlyer, which looks like a dune buggy topped by a
fifty-caliber gun. “I love American engineering,” a weapons trafficker in the
book says. “LandFlyers can blast across
a desert at sixty-five miles an hour, hump over chongo rocks at thirty without
going ass over teakettle, and do hairpin turns so sharp they’ll topple any
other all-terrain vehicle. They can even
keep running on three wheels if the fourth gets shot off.” They’re military light-strike vehicles. Several have been invented that are similar
to this. Part
of my job as a fiction writer is to try to understand meanings and then to put
them into a context where the reader is entertained — and gets an insider’s
perspective. The cutting-edge technology in THE LAST SPYMASTER will be in
actual use someday, perhaps far sooner than we expect — or are told.
Q: You seem to know a lot
about illegal weapons trafficking, too.
An important element in your plot involves a very dangerous shipment.
GL: Death merchants have
played a vital role in wars since the beginning of recorded history. At the end
of the 1800s, a legendary dealer named Basil Zaharoff brought the business into
modern times. He was outgoing, a natural
pitchman who claimed to be Greek when it suited him. He’d been very successful until he started
repping submarines and discovered he couldn’t talk anyone into buying them
because they were so expensive. Desperate,
he went to Greece and ingratiated himself by saying he was “first a Greek, a patriot like
yourselves, and only second a salesman.”
Then he did something new — he offered to sell on credit. The result was the Greeks bought one
sub. As you probably know, Greece and Turkey had a historic feud that
flamed into bloody combat periodically.
So Zaharoff went to Turkey next. He terrified them with stories
about Greece ’s
menacing new sub. By the time he’d
finished, they’d outdone the Greeks and bought two submarines. Zaharoff
left an enduring legacy. He proved to
the industry that the most practical means to maximize profit was to sell to
all sides any way you could, because that bred conflict, and conflict led to
war, and war meant increased demand for weapons. Lying, inciting fear, and selling on credit
are still basic and very effective tools in use today. The
United States has the most rigorous laws of any country to stop illegal gun trafficking, but
the laws are almost impossible to enforce.
The result is that the country that produces the most weapons, sells the
most weapons, and makes the most profit from weapons is the United States.
Q: You anticipated the existence of Robert
Hanssen, generally considered America’s
greatest traitor, in your spy novel Mesmerized — you even got the first
name right. I’ve heard you’ve predicted
other events in other books. That’s
amazing. How do you manage it?
GL: Hanssen wasn’t that
difficult. Sometime around 1999 I
figured out there had to be a highly placed mole in the FBI by noting how much
heat the CIA was getting for Aldrich Ames and others, while being aware that
some of the blown missions and leaked secrets had to be from someone with
high-echelon access inside the FBI. So
in Mesmerized I created a highly-placed FBI mole. Before the book was in stores — in fact,
while it was at the printers, in February 2001 — Hanssen was arrested. That was unnerving but also very exciting. Interestingly, it turned out I’d even
accurately postulated some of the clues that led to his discovery. As for calling my mole “Bob” — that was sheer
dumb luck. To
me, the world at large is not only fascinating, we ignore it at great
peril. One of the good results from the
horror of 9/11 was that Americans realized we’d had a long enough post–Cold War
nap. It was time to figure out what in
heck was happening beyond our borders. We
are a nation of readers, so of course we turned to books, but not only
nonfiction. One of our favored resources to educate ourselves is through the
lens of good political fiction, which is what the best spy novels are all
about. The key to that sort of
excellence is relevance — the books must be relevant. Those of us who plow these literary fields
must keep ourselves informed. I
subscribe to three newspapers a day and a dozen magazines a month, as do many
of my fellow authors. So much of what is
apparently secret is in the very air we breathe. If we pay close attention, we pick up a hint
here, a potential trend there, a whispered confidence over the phone. The
results can be startling, even to us.
For instance ...
The Coil (2004), also a spy thriller of
course, may be the first novel about globalization. As I was working on it, people’s usual
response was something like, “And how do you spell that?” The term “globalization” meant little
then. Today the press bristles with news
of it — U.S. jobs being
shipped overseas, decay of America’s
small companies, demonstrations and riots at G8 and IMF meetings. In the book, I link corporate profits to its
spread, too. That’s borne out to be
true.
In The Paris Option (2002), one subplot
shows Basque terrorists networking with al-Qaeda. I wrote the book before 9/11 and Americans’
acute awareness of how threatening al-Qaeda was. We have evidence now that al-Qaeda
collaborates in arms sales and information gathering with other terrorist
groups, including Basque extremists.
Before the SARS outbreak, I created The
Hades Factor (2000), which involves a virus very much like SARS. On April
21, 2003, The Hindustan Times ran a story suggesting that the book
predicted the SARS outbreak: “SARS: How Fiction Became Fact.”
In Mosaic (1998), I postulated a
wealthy presidential political dynasty with incestuous ties to the CIA and big
business.
How
did I manage any of this? As I said,
information is in the very air we breathe.
When we pay attention and read between the lines, we know a lot more
than we realize.
Q: You started your
fiction career as a writer of literary short stories, and then you wrote pulp
male adventure novels. How could you
write in two such diverse fields?
GL: Because I didn’t know
any better. I had to stop writing the
short stories when I went through a divorce and needed a way to feed my
children, who had thankfully grown accustomed to eating. The adventure books —
they were allegedly by Nick Carter — were a wonderful opportunity for me to
experiment and learn while earning money. I
consider myself fortunate: I love
stories and ideas. At base, what that
also means is I love words. I think my
life as a writer emerged from an incident when I was twelve. I had one sibling, a sister who was six at
the time. She had a lump on the side of
her neck, and my mother had been taking her to doctors to find out what it
was. I arrived home from school one
afternoon to find Mom on the phone with our family doctor, crying, making a
note to herself. Within minutes, my
father showed up, and they drove off.
She forgot to take the note with her. As
soon as I settled my sister with a book, I ran to the note. On it was a word I didn’t know —
“malignant.” I instantly looked it up in
our old Webster’s. That was how I discovered my little sister
had terminal cancer. Ah, the incendiary
power of a single word. Two years later,
after a titanic struggle, she was dead. Words
can launch wars and heal hearts. I have
too much respect for them to not honor what they can create in stories and
books. Yes, I wrote Nick Carters, and they were damn good Nick Carters. And I wrote the short stories, too, which I
loved. Any form is limited, whether it’s
genre or mainstream. The goal is to work
within the canvas to create something worthwhile. It may not be art, but it should have value.
Q: One reviewer says
you’ve “joined the deified ranks of Ludlum and Le Carré.” But why didn’t you go back to literary or
mainstream fiction instead of moving into the spy thriller field?
GL:
THE
LAST SPYMASTER is a good example. In it
I could tell a whopping good tale while exploring my lust for politics,
history, and culture. I was able to dramatize the changes in espionage
during the Cold War and afterwards while showing the selfless choices, the
sometimes stupid moves, the costs, the humanity, the moral ambiguity of those
who live in it. There’s
a lot of romance to espionage. And that’s
because it’s a heightened reality in which the stakes can be enormous. The heroes are often larger than life, and so
are the villains. In it, everyone lies. Everyone hides something. Everyone bleeds real blood. And almost everyone works for a government,
and all governments lie. Holding on to one’s ideals while working for a better
world is the most difficult personal challenge.
Those who succeed against such odds are the stuff of quiet legend,
occasionally receiving secret honors and awards, and living out their days
without telling tales. This
is an exciting literary field, too often maligned, probably because it’s
popular. Important books — literary
books — have arisen from it. My goal is
to make a contribution.
Q: How did you acquire Top
Secret security clearance?
GL: Years ago, the quirky
and brilliant Kurt Vonnegut taught some literature classes I attended at The
University of Iowa. As writers often do,
he worked many jobs to support his family.
One was as an editor at a think tank, which he described as bristling
with so many ideas that they seemed to bounce off the walls. From that percolating petri dish came the
genesis for his novel, Cat’s Cradle. Being
no fool, I thought that perhaps if I landed a job at one, too, some fairy dust
might sprinkle onto me as well. So my
first job out of college was as an editor at a think tank. After the FBI vetted
me and I received clearance, I soon discovered Kurt was more than right — not
only did ideas bounce off the walls, so did the people. The place was exciting and surrealistic,
fertile with secrecy, information, pocket protectors in neon colors, rotating
sexual liaisons, imaginations run amok, and a sort of swaggering cockiness that
at its best swung the doors to potential wide open. The
scientists and engineers worked on projects around the globe, primarily
military, everything from making deserts bloom to creating armaments that could
wipe life from entire continents. We
kept our classified documents in office safes.
Every time I moved into a different part of the building, I had to tap
in my security code. I was pretty lousy
at some of it — for instance, I often forgot my ID badge. Still, shadowy figures passed through, and I
made friends. Best
of all, I, too, found an idea for a novel — Masquerade. There were
water-cooler rumors that the U.S. government had been performing secret brain-washing experiments on unsuspecting
citizens, looking for ways to control minds as another arrow in their Cold War
quiver. Later I discovered the talk was
true. Among other names, the program was
called MK-ULTRA, and although the government officially closed it in the 1970s,
a source “suggested” it continued under different names. One of the most recent
is MARINADE. Yes, “marinaded brains.”
There’s a healthy black sense of humor in the clandestine world.
Q: What’s your opinion of U.S. intelligence? It seems to be in a
shambles.
GL: To paraphrase Mark Twain, the news of our
intelligence agencies’ incompetence is greatly exaggerated. Here’s the bad news: The attacks of 9/11 halted all U.S. air
travel, caused flights to be delayed around the globe, closed the U.S. stock
exchange, created an international financial tsunami, threw the U.S. military
into high alert, put other nations’ militaries on high alert, and triggered an
atmosphere of vulnerability within this country that Americans had not
experienced for nearly two centuries — not since the War of 1812, when the
British burned the White House. So
now consider this: We’ve had only one 9/11. Since
9/11 was so disruptive, why hasn’t it inspired another attack — large, medium,
or small — on our soil since? All
through the Cold War, we had enemies who also had the technology, brains, and
will to wound us just as deeply and cause worldwide reverberations, but it
never happened. Thank you, U.S.intelligence. Because
the CIA and other agencies are critical to our security, and these are very
insecure times, we’re more than ever aware of their shortcomings and their
illegal and immoral actions and the need to reform the institutions and some of
those operating within them. But seldom
do we hear of their victories, and there are many. For instance, the CIA captured
seventy terrorists before 9/11 and hundreds after. It helped to stop the Millennium Plot, which
would have been devastating. Spies
cannot operate without secrecy, and ours regularly fall on their swords to
preserve not only their anonymity but to protect decisions made in the White
House and Congress. Always remember that
intelligence is the hidden arm of national policy.
Q: So where do we stand in
the war on terrorism?
GL: The big picture is that Al-Qaeda is
losing. Its leaders realize America and her
allies have forced Osama bin Laden to shelve his great dream of a global
caliphate for the distant future. In
large part this is due to the successes of U.S. intelligence and the
military. But at the same time, we
haven’t achieved our basic goal either — we can’t guarantee against another
attack. But no free society ever can
truthfully make such a guarantee, because in the uneasy balance between
national security and individual rights lies the oxygen that fuels democracy. That oxygen is critical; without it,
democracy dies. In THE LAST SPYMASTER,
you’ll learn more about all of this. I
stand at the head of the line wishing we had no need for spies, soldiers, and
police. I deplore violence. And the intelligence community, the Congress,
and the Oval Office do indeed need to clean up their operations. Still, I’m very grateful that in today’s
dangerous world we have brave and selfless people who work hard to protect
us. They pay high prices personally, and
they deserve our respect. As I wrote THE LAST SPYMASTER, it was a refrain that
never left my mind.