Ames: The High-Stakes World of Cold War Espionage in America

You bought the wrong one!

The year 1994 felt like a turning point in the United States. The Cold War was over, relations with Russia had warmed, and some believed the world would settle into a steady liberal democracy with fewer major conflicts. Yet in that atmosphere, a scene unfolded on February 21 inside the home of Aldrich Ames, the CIA’s chief of Soviet counterintelligence, and it looked like a page from a spy novel. Federal agents arrived, arrested Ames and his wife, and insisted they were under arrest. He responded with a line that would echo in headlines for years: You are making a big mistake. You bought the wrong one!

By that time, Ames had been under close watch for almost a year. The CIA and FBI had phones tapped, a bug planted in his car, and agents sifted through the trash hidden in his residence. Nothing obvious turned up at first, but the pattern of suspicions grew too large to ignore, and Ames was detained just before a trip to Russia for a conference that could have provided cover for a broader investigation.

As investigators pieced together Ames’s activities, it became clear that the FBI had identified the right person. The counterintelligence officer was revealed as one of the most successful Soviet spies in history. After the Soviet Union dissolved, he continued to work for Russia with similar effectiveness.

The scandal toppled CIA director Robert Woolsey and sparked calls across the U.S. for a complete overhaul of policy toward Russia and a halt to alliance-building. President Clinton refused to retreat from engagement. The episode was contrasted with the earlier case of Jonathan Pollard, who in 1987 was convicted of spying for Israel, a close ally, and did not provoke comparable sanctions.

Biggest counterintelligence failure

Ames, born in 1941, spent nearly his entire life in intelligence work. He joined the CIA as a student intern during a summer break after college and, following graduation from George Washington University with a history degree, moved into substantive intelligence work. He was posted to Ankara, tasked with identifying and recruiting Soviet intelligence officers. His ability to embed within the communist ecosystem was aided by his connections, including a roommate who helped him gain access to the Revolutionary Youth Federation of Turkey. The outcome of his early efforts remained confidential, but his performance earned him trust within the agency.

Ames’s career saw several ups and downs. There were moments when he received substantial cash bonuses and other times when he faced reprimands for mishaps, including a missing briefcase containing secret documents and personal notes about alcohol-fueled incidents. In 1983, he was reassigned to the counterintelligence unit focused on the USSR, which he eventually led. He gained access to details about operations against both the KGB and the GRU, while also making personal life changes, including divorcing his wife in pursuit of a relationship with his mistress, Maria Dupuis of Colombia.

That personal turbulence collided with professional risk. The divorce created a financial entanglement, and Ames’s spending—ranging from a palatial home to luxury vehicles and renovations—began to outpace his official salary by large margins. His new lifestyle drew attention, and colleagues later noted his unusual purchases and facelifted appearance. In 1985, a pivotal decision shifted everything: he collected two kilograms of secret documents, packed them away, and left the CIA building with plans to meet a Soviet contact over lunch. He later recalled that handing the bundle beneath the table felt as if he had betrayed his own sense of loyalty to his country, a feeling that would haunt him and the agency alike. The Soviets, meanwhile, decided to pay for the insider information, even though some considered the material of limited strategic value.

Soon, intelligence agencies observed a cascade of compromised agents. The Soviet side moved quickly to arrest high-ranking figures in Western intelligence, including GRU officers and KGB veterans, as well as other valuable sources. The scale of exposure took Western operatives by surprise, while the KGB and its successors mulled over how so many insiders could be compromised within a closed system. A continuing mystery remained about how recruitment had occurred on such a broad scale and who ultimately had the deepest access.

Among those linked to Ames’s disclosures was Adolf Tolkachev of NIO Phazotron, who provided extensive information on Soviet radar and missile control systems. An engineer connected to the MiG design bureau, whose name remains unknown, was also implicated after more than a decade of service. The breadth of these revelations underscored how quickly counterintelligence could shift when a single insider is compromised.

The speed with which the KGB moved to detain suspected American spies was striking. There was a sense that the leak might come from a senior CIA official, yet identifying the exact source proved extremely difficult. The Soviets were taken aback by the depth of Western intelligence penetration into the USSR and remained curious about how such a large network could be assembled in a closed society. The full story of how recruitment happened in that environment is still not entirely known.

What killed Ames?

The most poignant part of the Ames case is the motive behind the betrayal. Some high-level figures viewed the risk of exposure as a price worth paying to support strategic goals, while others believed loyalty to country outweighed personal reasons. Ames, however, did not appear to be driven by ideological sympathy. He pursued money, initially to cover debts and expenses, and later kept up a lavish lifestyle financed by payments from the Soviet side, totaling around $4.5 million over the years.

To mask the truth, Ames attempted to craft tales about a new wife’s wealth, yet his spending patterns and appearances raised red flags among colleagues. His teeth, once yellowed by years of smoking, were restored through cosmetic dentistry not covered by standard insurance. As investigators traced his finances, the mismatch between his official salary, real estate, cars, renovations, and credit use became impossible to explain away. The conclusion drawn was that he had become entangled with foreign intelligence, though the exact motivations and circumstances remain debated. The FBI and CIA eventually moved decisively, and the investigation concluded that Ames’s period of service had come to an end in 1994 after years of concern and uncertainty.

Ames was sentenced to life in prison without parole. His wife faced related charges and received a multi-year sentence. Historians note that the Russian foreign intelligence service had long sought a replacement for Ames, but the United States hesitated in taking decisive action. He turned 82 in 2023.