Spycraft - Melton [118]
With the OTS version of the technology, engineers developed a unit attached to a probe that fit into the three-eighths-inch drill hole. Techs would drill a short distance into a wall, then withdraw the drill and insert the probe to take a measurement. This drill-and-probe process continued as the electromechanical counter mounted on the unit recorded a wall’s thickness at the deepest point of the drilled hole. In time, techs became so proficient that some abandoned consulting the small mechanical readout altogether, preferring to judge depth by the clicks of the counter. The faster the clicking sounds, the thicker the wall. Since drilling sometimes occurred in near darkness, this also reduced the need for illumination and added a measure of security to nighttime jobs.
“I just listened for the clicks. I’d be on a ladder, the gauge is on the floor attached by a long cable going click-click-click,” said Martin, an experienced tech. “Then, after awhile, I’d hear click . . . click . . . click . . . and say, something’s about to happen. I better be careful from now on.” The reading, while not precise, was close enough to eliminate virtually all breakthroughs and earned praise from audio techs around the world.
A second drilling innovation adapted from industrial technology was the Grit Drill. Smooth plaster walls presented a particularly difficult problem for the audio techs. It seemed that every diplomat who happened to be an operational target also had an office or home with plastered walls. To cut through the plaster, some pressure was needed on the drill, but no matter how careful the tech tried to be, that pressure was just enough to spall the other side of the wall. Small chips of plaster from spalling were a dead give-away to anyone doing a security inspection.
OTS management dispatched an engineer, working under an alias as well as commercial cover to obscure CIA interest, on a nationwide tour to find a solution. Lugging dozens of circular samples of brick, concrete, ceramic tiles, terrazzo, and other materials neatly packaged in plastic sleeves, he began a cross-country journey in search of a better drill.
He visited more than a dozen companies, large and small. Anyone who knew anything about drilling through hard materials was fair game. Those who agreed to meet with the engineer were told that his company was looking for a drill so fine and so tough it could penetrate every one of the circular samples with a clean one-millimeter hole.
He visited precision drilling companies that cut holes in circuit boards and scientists in labs working with microwave energy. In upstate New York, he paid a call on a company that excavated concrete and was anxious to help. “I think we can do it,” said one of the mining engineers. “We would use a very small controlled explosive with great care.” The tech found the concept intriguing but the idea of using explosives, no matter how small, was not something he could likely sell to OTS.
The engineer eventually found a research company in the South that said it had a scientist with a reputation for innovative engineering. So far, the search had been futile, but he went through the requirements yet again. There was little reaction except the scientist asked that some of the material samples be left behind. Because it was the last stop on the circuit, the tech was happy to discard the weight from his luggage. Back at OTS, he reported little progress on the problem.
Nothing happened for a few weeks, and then, unexpectedly, the OTS engineer received a call from the scientist who had kept the samples. “I’ve got the solution,” offered the caller, and the engineer was