The CIA Puppetmaster Part 2

Just before sunrise on the morning of April 15, 1961, Gustavo Ponzoa was on an airport runway in Nicaragua, codenamed Happy Valley.

The 38-year-old nervously gripped the controls of his B-26 Invader plane. Ponzoa was a trained commercial pilot, but he had never been in combat before, and the thought of it scared him.

Like many of of his fellow recruits, he had been living in exile since the communist revolutionary Fidel Castro took control of Cuba, and he was willing to do whatever it took to get his country back.

Ponzoa taxied his plane on the landing strip. It was an old U.S.
military plane that had been refurbished and painted to resemble those in Castro's Air Force.

The idea was for Ponzoa and the other pilots to cause confusion as the invasion got underway. a way to potentially gain the upper hand against the superior Cuban forces.

More than that, though, the planes were painted to disguise their American origin. It was vital that there were no ties back to the United States government.

Panzoa's feelings about the Americans were complicated.

They had bankrolled this Bay of Pigs operation, but he didn't think the 1,400 exiles who were about to invade Cuba had nearly enough support to succeed.

Panzoa had no way of knowing that the mastermind behind this day's attack, CIA Director Alan Dulles, fully expected the ragtag exile army to fail.

At 68, Dulles was at the height of his power in Washington, and he was certain that he could bend America's youthful new president to his will. Once John F.

Kennedy saw that the invasion was failing, Dulles believed he would be forced to provide whatever support was necessary to defeat Castro, and that almost certainly meant sending U.S.

troops to Cuba, which was exactly what Dulles wanted all along. The exile army, known as Brigade 2506, had been in Nicaragua for about a year, training in the heat and humidity of the jungle.

They were surrounded by snakes, scorpions, and spiders, and had limited water and food. Most of the original recruits were young Cuban exiles, ex-military and students who hated Castro.

But at one point, more than 200 soldiers resigned, fearing that the Americans' invasion plan was too dangerous. And suddenly, the CIA couldn't be a selective.

They began accepting older recruits with no military experience, like Ponzoa, who had left his family behind to fight the communists.

A soldier on the runway signaled to Panzoa to take off, and with a deep, uneasy breath, he pushed the engines to full power.

The plane shook as it pitched forward, struggling against the extra weight of bombs, rockets, machine guns, and extra fuel. The nose of the plane lifted stiffly, and the landing gear let the ground.

Finally, Panzoa was airborne. He exhaled in relief.
and promptly turned off the lights to make sure he wouldn't be seen.

Two hours later, Panzoa was the first of the brigade to reach his homeland of Cuba. It was a familiar sight from the air.

He'd flown in and out of the airports countless times when he was a pilot for Cubana Airlines. But this time, Panzoa wasn't there to deliver passengers.

Panzoa lowered the plane toward his destination, the very airfield where he used to work. He held his breath and hit a button on his controls, dropping the first bomb.

There was no going back now. The Bay of Pigs invasion had begun.

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This is part two of the CIA Puppet Master.

The same morning Ponzoa flew out of the Bay of Pigs, CIA Director Alan Dulles sat beside his wife Clover in the back seat of his chauffeured car. He was on his way to the Washington, D.C.

airport for his flight to San Juan, Puerto Rico, where he was going to speak at a conference. Dulles also planned on getting some sun, golfing, and relaxing.

He'd be nowhere near the halls of Washington when the invasion began. It was the perfect cover.
Earlier that morning, Dulles received word that the invasion forces planes had left Nicaragua.

Two days after they bombed the Cuban airfields, the exile army would land on the beaches. Dulles knew that the outmatched Cuban exiles would fail to topple Castro's regime, exactly as he had planned.

Then, President Kennedy would have no choice but to send in U.S. forces to prevent a humiliating defeat, giving Dulles the full-scale invasion he wanted all along, and a clear victory over communism.

Kennedy may not realize it yet, but even though he was president, he was just a pawn on Dulles' chessboard. Dulles' car arrived at the airport.

He stepped out onto the tarmac, breathing in the brisk morning air. In just a few months, construction of the CIA's new headquarters in Langley, Virginia would be complete.

Dulles would have his own kingdom kingdom across the Potomac from the White House, and the Cuban invasion would be his coronation.

The agency would be far away from the prying eyes of anyone who might get in Dulles' way, especially the president. He smiled to himself.
This was going to be a perfect weekend.

While Dulles was on his way to enjoy a vacation, President John F. Kennedy stared out of the Oval Office windows, deep in thought.
The Cuban invasion was underway, and it hung over him like a cloud.

Initially, Kennedy trusted Dulles' plan, but after three months in office, doubts were eating away at him.

Kennedy was beginning to suspect that Dulles was dishonest, and he couldn't shake a growing unease about the operation.

Although Kennedy did strongly oppose communism, he had made it clear during the election that he wanted to work with developing nations more as equals and less as the neighborhood bully.

A U.S.-funded overthrow of Cuba's government didn't sit well with the new new president. Plus, Kennedy had another big problem.
The invasion was no longer a secret.

The New York Times and other newspapers had been reporting on the Guatemalan base where the CIA was training Cuban exiles.

Castro had deployed his forces to nearly every beach on the island, anticipating an attack. Kennedy had to quell suspicions of U.S.
involvement immediately.

To him, losing the element of surprise was reason enough to potentially scrap the whole plan, but Dulles had showed him intelligence that the Cuban government had had no idea when the attack was coming or how much firepower was involved, including the planes that the U.S.

was secretly supplying.

The door to the Oval Office swung open, and Kennedy snapped out of his reverie. He stood up to greet his top advisors, including Dick Bissell, Dulles' deputy director.

Kennedy was happy to see Bissell. He was, after all, the man he hoped would replace Dulles as leader of the CIA in the next year.

Kennedy hadn't wanted to keep Dulles around to begin with, but he had won the election by such a narrow margin.

Keeping Dulles in charge of the CIA was meant to reassure people that he wasn't going to be making any radical changes from the previous administration, at least not quite so soon.

Kennedy felt he could trust Bissell. The man had an impressive pedigree, including two degrees from Yale, and he was well-versed in military and political policy in the atomic age.

Kennedy saw him as a man of the future. unlike the antiquated Dulles.

Kennedy's advisors informed him that the planes piloted by by exiles had bombed a number of Cuban airports, damaging Castro's air force.

One advisor mentioned that the Cuban delegation to the UN had accused the Americans of orchestrating the air attack, but UN Ambassador Adelaide Stevenson denied everything. And Stevenson wasn't lying.

He hadn't been briefed on the mission, so he knew nothing about the attack. Kennedy bit his lip thinking this over.

It wasn't clear if the Cubans were actually onto them or just trying to shift the blame. Bissell assured the president that every precaution had been taken to keep the U.S.
role secret.

The Cubans wouldn't find out the U.S. had funded the assault.
If he was worried, though, Bissell reminded the president that he could still pull the plug on the actual invasion. He had two days.

Beyond that, it would be too late. Kennedy thanked his advisors and they left the room.
Then he sat back down at the resolute desk, thinking about his options.

He didn't like backing down, and he didn't want to do it now. He just hoped this invasion wouldn't backfire on him.

At midnight on April 17th, Umberto Lopez Saldana stood on the deck of the Houston, one of six cargo ships carrying the invasion force.

He squinted into the night, just barely able to make out the shape of Cuba's coastline. Nostalgia crashed over him.
He hadn't been home in almost two years, and he missed it deeply.

Saldana tore his eyes away. He needed to focus on the mission ahead, especially because the odds were not in their favor.

Since the first exile planes attacked Cuban airfields two days ago, the situation had deteriorated rapidly. Initial reports that the planes had crippled Castro's air force were overblown.

The Cuban fleet was still intact, and now the invasion forces had lost the element of surprise.

If Castro's air power was still strong, Saldana knew that the Cuban exiles' odds of success were significantly reduced. Saldana held onto his M1 rifle, trying to steady his breath.

He heard some of his fellow soldiers whispering prayers. He wasn't a religious man, but part of him wondered if he should do the same.

Suddenly, there was a crash of screeching metal, and Houston lurched to one side. They had hit something in the dark.
Saldanya dropped his gun in a panic and picked it back up again.

His fellow soldiers scattered in all directions, trying to see what had happened. Someone barked orders from the bow of the ship, but no one seemed to pay attention.

Just below the surface of the water, Saldanya could see what had caused the damage, the jagged pink outline of a coral reef.

These waters were shallow, and CIA Recon didn't realize that reefs could block their passage. They hadn't even touched Cuban land yet, and the mission was looking worse by the minute.

The Houston pushed forward, trying to maneuver around the coral. Someone vomited near Saldania, and he patted his fellow soldier on the back.

Finally, the boat reached land. Saldanya's boots hit the beach, his heart pounding in his ears.
Almost as soon as he he found his footing, he heard the sound of plane engines.

Then he heard something else, machine gun fire. Saldanya looked up to the sky with dread.
Planes were shooting at them.

He and his fellow exiles had been told the only planes above them would be their guys, not Castros. As Saldanya inched forward, a bomb exploded 20 feet away from him.

He looked out into the water as more explosions shook the fleet, tossing the ships around like they were toys.

Saldania watched as bullets struck the ship he had just been aboard and saw oil gush out of one of the holes.

On another ship, some exiles shot at the plane above them until the plane began smoking and plunged toward the water.

Saldanya heard the crash, and for a moment, he thought that maybe they could get out of this. But as quickly as one plane was shot down, more appeared.

Behind him, he suddenly heard a chorus of screams. The Houston was ablaze, and there were more than 200 men still aboard.
It was barely dawn, and Castro's forces were destroying one of their ships.

Saldana didn't see a way out of this. He gripped his gun and said a prayer.

As noon approached, Pepe San Roman frantically tapped out a distress message aboard his command ship. He could see his men dodging strafing fire from Castro's planes on the beach.

He knew that many of them would die if American air support did not arrive soon. At 12.03 p.m., he said, under attack, request jet support or cannot hold.

Pepe was a 29-year-old former captain in the Cuban army, and that was seniority enough to make him the leader of the ground invasion of the Bay of Pigs.

When Pepe's men first stormed the beaches, they had been able to hold their ground, but now Castro's forces were gaining momentum. Pepe needed to reach the U.S.

Navy ships that patrolled the Caribbean waters nearby. He thought surely the Americans would come to help, but they needed to come now.
Pepe watched as one of his men got shot in the arm.

He radioed again. Have no ammo left for tanks, and very little left for troops.
Enemy just launched heavy land attack supported by tanks. Cannot hold for long.

Pepe couldn't understand why they weren't coming. The Americans had promised air cover, but as he looked up at the clear blue skies, the only planes he saw were Castro's Sea Furies and T-33s.

The planes would buzz by, raining bullets on his men and sending them running for cover. With each passing minute, Pepe was getting more and more desperate.

He radioed again, but still, the Americans did not respond. Pepe and his men were on their own.
Getting out alive would be entirely up to them.

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Later that evening, Richard Drain leaned against his CIA-issued Chevrolet and lit up another cigarette. He took a long, anxious drag.
It had been a bad day.

Drain was the CIA's chief of operations for the Bay of Pigs invasion, and he was parked on the tarmac of Baltimore's Friendship Airport.

Dick Bissell had asked him to pick up Alan Dulles from his trip back from Puerto Rico.

Drain was a little put off that the director of the CIA had been enjoying a tropical vacation during such a critical mission, but he understood that Dulles had also been avoiding attention around the invasion.

He assumed that Dulles would now leap into action to salvage the fiasco. Drain's mind wandered to the men stranded on the beaches in Cuba.

He had overseen their training, and he'd gotten to know a number of them. Despite the language barrier, he even considered some of them friends.
Now he wondered if any were still alive.

Drain had warned Dulles this was going to happen. He'd written a a report that said, in no uncertain terms, the invasion force alone wouldn't be enough to breach Castro's defenses.

But for some reason, Dulles had gone forward with the plan. Drain heard the sound of a plane overhead.
Dulles' small private jet hit the runway and slowed to a stop.

Drain tossed his cigarette and got back in his car. He drove up to the plane just as Dulles and his wife descended the steps.
Drain took a nervous breath as Dulles approached.

He'd never actually met the CIA's director in person, but he knew Dulles was prone to screaming at his subordinates. He extended his hand with a polite smile and introduced himself.

Dulles asked him how the mission was going. Drain sighed and said it wasn't going well, making sure to add sir at the end.

Drain couldn't quite read Dulles' expression, but the man didn't seem worried or upset. It almost seemed like he didn't even care.

Dulles sent his wife to ride home with one of his aides and had Drain drive him back toward the Capitol. On the drive, Drain cleared his throat and then described the disaster that was unfolding.

He said, it's a fast-breaking situation. We're hanging on by our fingernails.
Dulles didn't respond.

Drain kept expecting the man to blow up at him or even just ask a question, but he just sat there, smoking his pipe.

Drain continued and informed him that the planned American airstrike had been killed. Dulles exhaled a puff of smoke before calmly asking why.

Drain was flabbergasted. Dulles had a reputation as a commanding spymaster, but the man in his back seat seemed lifeless.
Drain pulled up outside Dulles' house.

The director invited him in for a drink, which he accepted, before quickly leaving. As Drain pulled away, his mind was racing.

Earlier, Dulles had approved the plan, even though Drain had warned it was going to fail. Now, he didn't seem to care that the invasion was falling to pieces just as Drain had warned.

Drain couldn't understand how Dulles could possibly justify his complete indifference. All night, Drain lay awake thinking about his men on the beach.

There was only one person left who could save them. The president.

The following night, on Tuesday, April 18th, President Kennedy was dancing the waltz with his wife Jackie. It was close to midnight.

Kennedy was dressed in a tux and tails, hosting the annual Congressional Party in the East Room of the White House. He was surrounded by Washington power players and trying his best to appear relaxed.

But Kennedy's mind was elsewhere. The invasion of Cuba was crumbling.
More than that, Kennedy's biggest fear about the operation was becoming reality. People were realizing that the U.S.
was involved.

A Cuban plane had landed in Miami. Its pilot declared that he was a deserter from Castro's army, who had flown over to flee the regime.

The whole stunt was part of a deception to make the invasion look entirely like a grassroots Cuban anti-Castro movement without U.S. backing.
But the local reporters on the scene were suspicious.

Despite the plane's new paint, they could see that it was American, and they reported the news to the world.

Soon enough, Kennedy knew he was going to have to come clean about the United States' role in the operation.

One of Kennedy's aides walked up and apologized for interrupting his dance, but there was urgent business to attend to. Kennedy kissed his wife and walked with the aide to a side room.

He entered to see a group of top CIA and Pentagon officials. All of them had panic in their eyes, but none more so than Dick Bissell.

The deputy director was normally calm and collected. It was part of why Kennedy wanted to install him as Dulles' successor, but today he looked exhausted and unnerved.

Kennedy looked around and realized Alan Dulles was nowhere to be seen, even though he'd already returned from Puerto Rico. Dulles had been the one to talk him into this mess, and now he'd gone AWOL.

The men explained that most of the Cuban exiles had been captured, and more than 100 were killed. In short, the invasion was a colossal failure.
Kennedy felt his face flush.

If Dulles was here, he could demand answers from the man who had assured him that the plan was near perfect, but that was likely why the CIA director had skipped the meeting.

He probably wanted to wash his hands of this failure, leaving it to fall squarely on Kennedy and Bissell.

Navy Chief Arlie Burke informed Kennedy that he had positioned two battalions of Marines on destroyers off the Cuban coast in case Kennedy wanted to take military action.

Kennedy felt a spike of anger, but he didn't want to act rashly, so he kept quiet and heard Burke out. The naval chief said that he could take two jets and shoot down the enemy aircraft.

Kennedy thought this over. He asked what would happen if Castro's planes returned fire and hit one of the Navy's ships.
Burke had an answer, then we'll knock the hell out of them.

Kennedy knew Burke and many of his advisors were World War II heroes. He respected their service and their judgment, but they were trying to push him into an all-out war.

The exiles' invasion, one he was repeatedly assured couldn't fail, was all he had approved.

Now Kennedy realized the invasion was too big to stay secret and too small for the U.S. to win, and he would be blamed for the failure.

Kennedy took a breath, then stood straight, even as it sent a bolt of pain down his bad back. He reiterated what he told his advisors from the very beginning.
He didn't want a big military operation.

Already there were headlines that the U.S. was invading a small independent nation.
He wouldn't let the situation devolve any further. There would be no additional airstrikes, no marine landings.

The men stared at him in shock.

Kennedy knew they thought he would follow their advice, but no one was going to force him to make a decision that he didn't think was in the best interest of the country.

Kennedy left the room and went for a walk outside. He thought back to President Eisenhower's final words of advice to him.
Eisenhower had told him to take out Fidel Castro.

He said he was leaving him a plan to accomplish it. But Eisenhower had given him the wrong advice.
It wasn't Castro who Kennedy needed to remove from power. It was Alan Dulles.

A few days later, Alan Dulles was in his office sipping scotch. and furiously typing up an all-station report with his perspective on the Bay of Pigs invasion.

With each venomous word, he made his position clear to every agent in the CIA. Their president had let this mission fail.
Dulles was sure he could manipulate Kennedy to his whims.

He always knew that he couldn't quietly invade Cuba with a small ragtag team. Kennedy would have to use the full might of the U.S.
military to tip the scales and eradicate communism on the island.

But Kennedy had proven far more strong-willed than Dulles had anticipated. He avoided Dulles' trap and let the chips fall.
And they'd fallen disastrously.

Castro's troops rounded up the last of the Cuban exiles, more than 1,000 in total. In public, President Kennedy stepped up and took the blame for the Bay of Pigs' failure.

As I've said from the beginning, the operation was a failure and that the responsibility rests with the White House. We engaged in intensive analysis of the reasons for the failure.

But in private, Dulles knew Kennedy was now out for him. The president said he no longer wanted Dulles to brief him.
Even worse, he had launched a presidential investigation on the failed mission.

That official inquiry could be the end of Dulles' reign over the CIA.

Dulles had been on top for so long that he'd forgotten the sting of humiliation.

Two days after the invasion's failure, when Kennedy had ordered the investigation, Dulles had dinner with his former protégé, Richard Nixon.

Dejected, drunk, and wearing his slippers, Dulles confessed that it was the worst day of his life.

But Dulles didn't cower for long. He knew Kennedy had plans for the CIA that did not include him.
If he wanted to secure his influence within the agency, he had to act fast and control the narrative.

No one could know that the invasion had been planned to fail from the start, or that he had been the one to do it.

Internally, he needed to shovel the entire debacle onto Kennedy to ensure that there would still be some in the CIA that remained loyal to him. Dulles sipped his scotch and continued typing.

He wrote that the mission would have been a success if Kennedy had the nerve and strength the mission required.

It was the president's decision to eliminate air support that killed any chance of victory. In Dulles' official telling, Kennedy was a coward who had backed down from a brilliant plan.

Dulles sent off the cable and retired to his library, still fuming at Kennedy.

He knew that the president held the ultimate power, but the director couldn't just let Kennedy take away everything he'd built his entire career. Dulles wasn't going to go down without a fight.

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Seven months later, on November 28, 1961, President Kennedy boarded Marine 1 on the south lawn of the White House. As the helicopter blades whirred, Kennedy smiled to himself.

He had a feeling it would be a good day. The president was flying to the new CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia.
He was going to preside over Alan Dulles' formal send-off from the agency.

The fight between Kennedy and Dulles had been underhanded and bitter. But after the Bay of Pigs, Kennedy knew there wasn't much more Dulles could do to hurt him.

For two months, he relished the opportunity to make Dulles sweat and wonder about his future. Then he let Dulles know he was being removed as the CIA director.

Finally, Kennedy could turn the page from this stain in his presidency.

He would still have to dedicate the next three years, or even more, to making sure the American public didn't immediately associate his presidency with the failure of the Bay of Pigs.

But at least now Dulles wouldn't be there at every step, working against him. Kennedy's helicopter descended toward the new headquarters.

He had heard that some of the agency staff were referring to the building as the Allen Dulles Memorial Mausoleum.

The name gave him a chuckle, but right now, he wanted to be gracious in his farewell remarks. There were still a number of staff inside the agency and the government who were loyal to the director.

When he arrived, Kennedy took the stage and shook hands with Dulles, who beamed widely at him. Kennedy looked for a hint of resentment behind the old man's wireframe glasses, but he didn't see any.

Dulles seemed proud of himself.

Kennedy stepped to the microphone and announced that he was awarding Dulles the CIA's highest honor, the National Security Medal.

He talked about the director's various accomplishments over his many years of service, but toward the end of his speech, Kennedy delivered a subtle jab, suggesting that Dulles had put his own agenda above his duty to the office and the country.

Dulles likely never would have predicted this was where they would end up a year after Kennedy's election. Following the ceremony, Kennedy headed back to Marine 1.

As the helicopter lifted into the air, Kennedy saw Dulles waving at him. Kennedy waved back.
He couldn't help but feel a bit of sadness for the old man. But the feeling quickly went away.

Now that Dulles was gone, more changes were still to come to the CIA, starting with Dulles' number two, Dick Bissell.

Kennedy had once thought of Bissell as his man of the future, but Bissell had staked his reputation on the Bay of Pigs. He had been the one to organize its planning.

Kennedy couldn't entrust the entire agency to someone who had organized such a disastrous failure. With both of them gone, Kennedy saw a brighter future.

In the summer of 1963, a year and a half after being forced into retirement by President Kennedy, Alan Dulles poured two glasses of scotch in his library.

One was for himself, the other was for John A. McCone, the new director of the CIA.

Dulles didn't believe in retirement. He wasn't going to let go of his lifelong work just because Kennedy had told him to.

Even though he was no longer running the CIA, he still had a tremendous amount of influence in Washington.

He frequently welcomed high-profile CIA staffers to his house in Georgetown to keep him up to date.

In the wake of the Bay of Pigs disaster, Kennedy fired about one-fifth of the agency's workforce and introduced a plan to create more oversight.

He asked a few candidates to take over from Dulles, but none panned out. The guy who finally did take the job, McCone, was a Republican who served as the chair of the Atomic Energy Commission.

When Dulles heard the news about his appointment, he was ecstatic. This was someone he he could control once again.
Dulles brought the drinks over to McCone, and they toasted to the health of the CIA.

Dulles coolly sipped his whiskey and asked as innocently as he could how things were going at the agency. McCone downed his glass and launched into a tirade about Kennedy.

The president had few friends in the CIA, especially after he had refused to take stronger measures against Castro.

Dulles believed Kennedy was too focused on being loved by the rest of the world. He thought, you couldn't be a real leader unless you didn't care about being popular.

As their conversation ended, Dulles thanked the new director and sent him on his way. That night, he sat alone in his library, stewing.

Dulles thought that America needed a stronger voice than Kennedy to lead them against their enemies.

Unfortunately, for this seven-year-old chessmaster, his young opponent had already called checkmate.

The Bay of Pigs invasion was one of the first major public failures for the U.S. on the global stage.

The more than 1,000 Cuban exiles who were captured were imprisoned for nearly two years until the U.S. negotiated for their release.
But the debacle emboldened the Soviet Union to grow closer to Cuba.

The USSR became Cuba's biggest trade partner, including through weapons deals, and Washington's power players continued to grapple with the fallout from the failed mission.

A scathing internal audit confirmed there had been glaring errors from CIA leadership, especially Alan Dulles and Dick Bissell.

The report rejected the narrative that the mission's failure was due to Kennedy's refusal to approve additional airstrikes.

Instead, it said the operation was doomed by poor planning and the limited resources allocated to it.

But Alan Dulles managed to keep this report locked away for the rest of his life, and it wouldn't be publicly released until 1998.

Even then, it took several more years for the most devastating piece of the picture to come out.

It wasn't until 2005, more than 40 years after the invasion, that the world learned that the CIA's Cuba task force had concluded within days of Kennedy's election that the Cuba invasion would be a failure.

They deliberately kept that evaluation a secret from the president and went ahead with the invasion anyway.

But in the wake of the failed mission, Kennedy became far more intent on defeating global communism.

On April 20th, right after the Bay of Pigs disaster, Kennedy ordered the Pentagon to investigate how they could prevent communism from spreading to Southeast Asia. The U.S.

began sending troops overseas, and by the end of Kennedy's presidency, the number of American troops in Vietnam had increased from a few hundred to about 16,000.

That number would only continue to grow in the years after Kennedy's assassination.

As for Cuba, tensions with the U.S. reached a peak in 1962 during the Cuban Missile Crisis.

The Soviet Union had secretly deployed nuclear missiles to Cuba, and the 13-day standoff remains one of the closest periods the world has ever come to nuclear war.

And it wouldn't have happened if not for the CIA's failed invasion the year before.

The conflict between Alan Dulles and President Kennedy over the Bay of Pigs marked a turning point in American history, demonstrating the vulnerability of the country's institutions and the importance of transparency within the government.

But most importantly, it continues to serve as a reminder that not every plan is laid with the best intentions. intentions.

From Balin Studios and Wondery, this is Redacted, The Classified Mysteries, hosted by me, Luke Lamana. A quick note about our stories.

We do a lot of research, but some details and scenes are dramatized.

We use many different sources for our show, but we especially recommend The Brilliant Disaster, JFK, Castro, and America's Doomed Invasion of Cuba's Bay of Pigs by Jim Razenberger, The Devil's Chessboard, Alan Dulles, The CIA, and The Rise of America's Secret Government by David Talbot, and The Brothers, John Foster Dulles, Alan Dulles, and Their Secret World War by Stephen Kinzer.

This episode was written by Jake Naterman, sound design by Ryan Patesta. Our producers are Christopher B.
Dunn and John Reed. Our associate producers are Ines Renike and Molly Quinlan Artwick.

Fact-checking by Sheila Patterson. For Ballin Studios, our head of production is Zach Levitt.
Script editing by Scott Allen. Our coordinating producer is Samantha Collins.

Production support by Avery Siegel. Produced by me, Luke Lamana.
Executive producers are Mr. Ballin and Nick Witters.

For Wondery, our senior producers are Laura Donna Palavota, Dave Schilling, and Rachel Engelman. Senior managing producer is Nick Ryan.
Managing producer is Olivia Fonte.

Executive producers are Aaron O'Flaherty and and Marshall Louie for Wonder Read.

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