American Freed by Sandinistas : Scheme to Spring Denby: A Tale of Intrigue, Luck

The code words “Cousin,” “Basketball” and “Bogey” never will go down in history with the likes of “Rawhide,” “Plumbers” and “Overlord,” but they did provide the secret heart of a bilingual vocabulary used to spring American rancher James Jordan Denby from a Nicaraguan prison.

“Rawhide” is the Secret Service name for President Reagan, “The Plumbers” was President Nixon’s covert political unit during Watergate and “Overlord” was the code word for the Allies’ D-Day invasion of France in World War II.

And in January, 1988, “Bill’s Cousin” became the code word ordered by Nicaraguan Interior Minister Tomas Borge for Denby, whom Democratic U.S. Senate contender Bill Press of California was trying to free from a Sandinista jail.

Borge was afraid the CIA would overhear Denby’s name during phone taps and the U.S. government would thwart his release, somehow, before Wednesday’s House vote on President Reagan’s $36.25-million aid request for the Contra rebels. Press had sold Borge on the idea of freeing Denby as part of a public relations offensive aimed at swaying members of Congress against the Contra funds.

Then, because Press became worried that too many people around him might catch on to the code word “Cousin,” Denby’s name within the candidate’s own tight circle became “Basketball.” Borge was code named “Kingfish.”

And when Denby’s release was thought to be a sure thing, and it was considered safe to fly a $15-million private jet to Managua to carry him home, the code word agreed to was “Bogey”--the name of a pet dog owned by Press’ tenacious “facilitator,” Llewellyn C. Werner.

The story of how Press, a rank novice in international diplomacy, came to negotiate with a powerful Nicaraguan Marxist for the release of an accused Contra spy for his own political benefit is a bizarre tale of intrigue, pure luck, busted communications, Sandinista turf battles and beautiful women reminiscent of a spy novel.

“To say that this thing was properly organized in advance would be misleading,” Werner conceded Monday. “It was a seat-of-the-pants operation, a combination of political will and raw tenacity.”

The characters in this mission could fit into a James Bond movie, as well as a comic opera.

There was Borge, 57, one of the three original founders of the Sandinista National Liberation Front, a short, bespectacled man who obviously appreciates attractive women and drives his own four-wheel drive Isuzu customized with pinstripes and chrome wheels. Borge’s vehicle is always closely followed by two vans filled with heavily armed guards.

Then there was Lydia Brazon, 39, a Los Angeles advertising executive who speaks fluent Spanish and whose mother was born and raised in Nicaragua with important family connections to the late dictator Anastasio Somoza, overthrown by the Sandinistas in 1979. Brazon, who says she has been “anti-Somocista” for as long as she can remember, was the main liaison between Press and the Sandinistas, including Borge.

Act of Circumstance

Press met up with Brazon through simple happenstance: She was a good friend of the woman who made up Press’ face when he was a Los Angeles television commentator, a makeup artist and the wife of TV anchorman Jerry Dunphy.

There also was Werner, 38, a political junkie who has been involved in enough strange ventures to fill volumes--ranging from setting up meetings between former Gov. Edmund G. Brown, Jr. (his former boss) and Mother Teresa, to chartering medical airlifts for Southeast Asian war refugees.

Werner’s fiancee, Martha Sanchez, 31, a Mexican citizen with an American law degree, became the chief translator for the project and ultimately Denby’s attorney when his real one took off for a Nicaraguan beach last weekend.

There also were a couple of veteran liberal activists from Westside Los Angeles who are Sandinista sympathizers and heavily involved in the campaign to cut off U.S. aid to the Contras. One was Aris Anagnos, director of the Humanitarian Law Project, which footed the $50,000 bill for the luxury jet charter.

The other activist was Blase Bontane, a former Catholic priest expelled from Guatemala 20 years ago who now heads the Santa Monica-based Office of Americas and has a longstanding good relationship with Borge.

Then, of course, there was Denby himself, a 58-year-old Illinois farmer and Costa Rica rancher who looks and talks like a character in an adventure comedy. “Hell, I was just another old gringo wandering around down there,” he said Monday, denying that he had taken sides in the civil war, let alone been a CIA agent.

Shot Down in Nicaragua

Denby’s old single-engine Cessna was shot down by Sandinista rifle fire along a Caribbean beach on Dec. 6 as he was trying to make his way in a heavy storm from Honduras to Costa Rica.

Press, 47, who resembles a middle-aged Luke Skywalker (the “Star Wars” hero) and whose baby face and perfectly combed hair belie any interest in foreign intrigue, plotted the “Free Denby” project with Werner. Their main purpose was to pump life into Press’ moribund campaign for the Democratic Senate nomination. Lt. Gov. Leo T. McCarthy, according to the California Poll, had a runaway 59-point lead on him.

“We believed we had to do something dramatic, a breakout,” Werner said. “This campaign was receiving zero attention. And if by some crazy chance we were able to spring Denby, we could get on the map.”

Press and Werner visited a summit meeting of Central American presidents in San Jose, Costa Rica, on Jan. 16. Ostensibly, they flew down to observe the “peace process” and to deliver an invitation from Anagnos to Nobel Prize-winning President Oscar Arias of Costa Rica to speak in Los Angeles. But their main goal was to get to Managua and persuade Borge to release Denby into Press’ custody.

Lydia Brazon had access to Borge because she had interviewed him early last year for a Central American war novel she was writing, probing specifically for details on how he felt when his wife was tortured to death by Somocistas. It also helped that one of Brazon’s first cousins had married into Borge’ family, and that another first cousin--Carlos Mensoza--was a Sandinista official in charge of the nation’s vocational education.

By chance, Press and Werner met up with anti-Contra activist Bontane in Managua and the three of them were invited to Borge’s office. “It was one of the most direct, no-nonsense, hardball, non-diplomatic discussions I’ve ever had,” Werner said. “No protocol. Right down to hard facts.”

Appeal to Sandinistas

Press’ pitch, the candidate recalled, was that if the Sandinistas were “serious about making the peace process work” and “want to do everything possible to kill Contra aid” they should release Denby to him. He emphasized that Denby’s “political value” to the Sandinistas “would disappear” after the congressional votes on Feb. 3-4. “After that, nobody cares.”

“So Borge turned and picked up the phone,” Press said, and inquired as to how soon Denby might be released.

Fortunately for human rights--but unfortunately for immediately freeing Denby--President Daniel Ortega had just suspended all trials of national security cases by the Popular Anti-Somocista Tribunals, which the Sandinistas tightly controlled, and transferred them to the regular judicial system as part of new democratic reforms. And there was a reluctance to interfere with the judicial process--but Borge would see what he could do.

Press later said he had left that meeting feeling the chances of freeing Denby were “slim to none.” And he quipped to an aide, “What’s a dictatorship for if you can’t spring a prisoner?”

But they were allowed to meet with Denby that day. Werner said he grilled the prisoner about “whether he was on the take from the U.S. government” and insisted: “Before we put our rear ends on the line, we want to know whether you’ve done anything that could embarrass us.” Blase Bontane also lectured Denby about the merits of the Sandinista government.

Denby recalled that meeting on Monday:

“Right off the bat, I was very impressed with Press, but Werner and this guy Blase were awfully argumentative. . . . I said, ‘Look, boys, I’m a Republican.’ I was for the Sandinistas at first, but when they turned to the Russians, that kind of left me disenchanted. Blase got turned on and started to preaching. But I thought, fine, hell, I wasn’t doing any good getting myself out. I really thought, though, that Jesse (Jackson) had a better chance (of freeing him).”

Prepared Message

That night, at a Managua restaurant, Press was paged to a pay telephone where a Borge assistant read a carefully prepared message: If Press could obtain a letter from some congressmen requesting “the benevolence of the revolution in freeing Denby,” and keep the whole thing quiet until the prisoner was released, they had a deal.

Press and Werner flew to Washington and made the rounds on Capitol hill, receiving rejections from such Democratic leaders as California Sen. Alan Cranston and Rep. Tony L. Coehlo (D-Fresno), chairman of the House Democratic Campaign Committee. But they obtained the signatures of three, Reps. Howard L. Berman (D-Los Angeles), Mel Levine (D-Los Angeles) and Matthew F. (Matt) McHugh (D-New York).

Then they took the letter to the Nicaraguan Embassy, sealed in an envelope addressed--per instruction--to Ortega and Borge. The ambassador was too busy to see them, but an official assured the pair that the letter would be sent by diplomatic pouch to Managua. It apparently never was, and the suspicion later was that embassy officials resented these California interlopers interfering in foreign diplomacy.

Press returned to Los Angeles to await a phone call from Managua. It never came. Growing leery of the Nicaraguan Embassy, he asked another anti-Contra acquaintance--Alice McGrath, 70, of Ventura, who conducts tours to Nicaragua--to take a backup copy of the letter to Lydia Brazon’s cousin, Carlos Mendoza, for relay to Borge. He also asked Brazon to take a “redeye” commercial flight to Managua on Monday night to confer personally with the Sandinistas.

What came next is the stuff of comedy.

There were misinterpreted signals from Brazon to Press’ people--she reporting that Denby’s trial likely would be over by the end of the week; they believing that Borge was saying firmly he would be released then.

Telephone lines were constantly going out, as they always do these days in Managua. So Mendoza’s Jeep driver transported Lydia--dressed in a tight-fitting white, backless dress--to various government officials, including Borge, to plead Press’ case.

Finally on Wednesday, Press thought it was a “Bogey,” a go. But the charter pilot would not fly to Managua without a hard-copy Telex proof that the Sandinistas had granted him permission to fly through Nicaraguan air space. This is when Press really began getting jerked around--by the embassy in Washington, the Air Force in Nicaragua and the Foreign Ministry, none of whom shared Borge’s commitment to the project.

Press decided to go to Managua himself by “redeye,” taking with him Werner, Dr. Michael Witte (a longtime friend and physician from Point Reyes) and a Times reporter.

Through Brazon, he also sent a message to Borge, saying: “I’m coming to talk about my ‘Cousin’ and I want to see my ‘Cousin’ and I want to bring my ‘Cousin’ back to the United States Friday, Saturday or Sunday.”

Press arrived at the Managua airport at 9:30 a.m. to find that all water would be shut off throughout the city--including toilets--until 9 o’clock that night. This is the way it always is on Tuesdays and Fridays, in order to save water and power, he was told.

Borge, however, greased the plane permit and had it arranged for the U.S. pilot to phone a Sandinista official and receive verbal permission to fly over Nicaragua. The permit could not be sent by Telex because the power constantly was going out. Also, the phones were breaking up for hours at a time.

“I thought it was hilarious,” Brazon said, “Llew (Werner) turning my cousin’s house into his international headquarters and trying to manage international flight patterns in between the blackouts, the water being turned off and lack of sleep.”

Over a beer with Borge at a small hotel in the afternoon, the interior minister tentatively arranged some tricky expediting of the judicial process. And that night, at an outdoor cafe and later a piano bar, he cemented the deal--while drinking rum and Coke and dancing several hours with Brazon and Werner’s finance, Martha Sanchez.

Denby was released the next day.

“I thought it was 60-40 when I took the redeye,” Press said Monday. “I thought we had it in the bag over vodka and rum. And I knew we had it in the bag when I saw the TV trucks drive up (in front of the jail).”