By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
The U.S. Navy Investigation
Shortly after he was
promoted and entrusted with one of the Pentagon’s most sensitive jobs —
director of naval intelligence — Vice Adm. Ted “Twig” Branch received an urgent
request from the Justice Department. Prosecutors wanted to speak with him about
an investigation into leaks of classified material to a 350-pound Malaysian
defense contractor known as “Fat Leonard.”
The businessman,
Leonard Glenn Francis, and his company, Glenn Defense Marine Asia, held $200
million in contracts to resupply U.S. Navy ships and provide port security in
Asia. But Francis had recently been arrested in San Diego on fraud and bribery
charges. Federal agents were shocked to discover while carrying out search
warrants that he had obtained reams of classified information from corrupt Navy
officers about the itineraries of U.S. warships and submarines throughout the
Western Pacific.
As a foreigner
without a security clearance, Francis was prohibited from possessing U.S.
military secrets. Investigators were frantic that he might have sold or shared
the classified ship schedules to a hostile power such as China, placing U.S.
Navy vessels and crews at risk of attack.
Justice Department
officials needed to gauge the seriousness of the security breach and asked
Branch, as chief collector of the Navy’s secrets, to help them understand the
national security implications.
Branch, then 56,
wasn’t eager to speak with prosecutors. But given his job, he had little
choice. On Nov. 5, 2013, he arrived at the designated meeting place: a
conference room at Joint Base Andrews, the suburban Maryland airfield that
houses planes used by government VIPs, such as Air Force One.
The three-star
admiral was greeted by three investigators led by Mark Pletcher, an assistant
U.S. attorney who had traveled cross-country from San Diego. Pletcher explained
that his team was “talking to several people” about the classified leaks to
Glenn Defense.
What he didn’t say
was that the prosecution team was surreptitiously recording the meeting
because, days earlier, Francis had provided incriminating evidence against
Branch and another senior intelligence officer, Rear Adm. Bruce Loveless, who
worked at the Pentagon.
In a bid to strike a
plea deal, Francis had met secretly with prosecutors and federal agents and
bragged that, over several years, he had lavished Branch and Loveless with
expensive meals, cigars, prostitutes, and other illicit gifts.
Given the
allegations, investigators needed to determine whether the two leaders of the
Navy’s intelligence directorate — key figures in the U.S. intelligence
community who collaborated with the CIA and other spy agencies — had committed
a crime or were vulnerable to blackmail.
During the meeting
with prosecutors, Branch denied criminal wrongdoing or accepting prostitutes
from Francis. But he acknowledged that he had known the Malaysian businessman
for 13 years and had dined at his expense during port calls in Asia. He also
admitted taking gifts from Francis, including an exotic pewter letter opener.
“It’s like a Malaysian sword. It’s a curvy, saber-looking thing,” he told the
investigators, according to a transcript.
And yes, he added,
Francis gave wine and cigars as presents to Navy officers.
“He was very
generous,” Branch said.
In the end, federal
agents found no evidence that Branch or Loveless gave away classified
information, and both denied doing so. But the investigation into the two
admirals and their connections to Francis paralyzed the Office of Naval
Intelligence for years and left lasting scars at the highest levels of the
Pentagon.
Rear Adm. Ted Branch
addresses sailors during an awards ceremony in May 2012. He was promoted a year
later to vice admiral and director of naval intelligence.
The law-enforcement
files also describe how Francis, a high school dropout with a prior felony
record, penetrated the Navy’s elaborate counterintelligence defenses with
astonishing ease — and far more extensively than the Pentagon has publicly
acknowledged — by bribing other officers for classified material.
For seven years,
according to the documents, Navy counterintelligence officials failed to detect
hemorrhaging leaks of military secrets to Francis while he exploited the
information for his company’s bottom line.
Subsequently, since
2015, 10 Navy officers have admitted to leaking classified material to Francis
and his firm in exchange for prostitutes, cash, and other favors, the records
show, making the Malaysian defense contractor among the most prolific espionage
agents in modern history.
After a lengthy
investigation and the suspension of both admirals’ access to classified
information, the Navy determined that the Branch violated federal ethics rules
and committed official misconduct by accepting meals and other gifts from
Francis.
Rear Adm. Bruce
Loveless, shown in 2013, served for several years as an intelligence officer in
the Pacific, where he got to know Leonard Francis. (U.S.
Navy)
Loveless was indicted
and tried on bribery charges, though prosecutors dropped the case against him
after a jury was unable to reach a verdict. During the trial, his attorney
acknowledged that Loveless accepted gifts from Francis but said he was not guilty
of bribery because he did not provide Francis with any benefits in return.
Francis later pleaded
guilty to fraud, bribery, and conspiracy charges. He is expected to be
sentenced this summer.
But more than 10
years after his arrest, the Navy has yet to issue a full public accounting of
the damage that his corruption of Navy leaders inflicted on national security.
A senior Navy spokesman declined to comment on the case.
Vice Adm. Ted
"Twig" Branch departs a Navy installation in Virginia in September
2013. The Navy suspended Branch's access to classified information two months
later when he was placed under federal investigation.
Few Navy officers
could claim a more sterling, or colorful, career than Branch. The son of a
fabled college football player from the Mississippi Gulf Coast, he was raised
in small towns outside New Orleans before winning admission to the Naval
Academy in 1975. Despite the school’s punishing academic workload, he
demonstrated a knack for maximizing its limited social opportunities.
“Growing up 58
minutes away from Bourbon Street has got to have its effect on a person and Ted
was no exception to the rule,” observed the Academy yearbook, The Lucky Bag.
“By the time he was 14, he knew what to order when he went to the bar — ‘J.D.
on the rocks, please.’”
After graduation,
Branch returned to the Gulf Coast to attend flight school in Pensacola, Fla. In
a tongue-in-cheek military ritual, squadrons assigned junior pilots a call sign
or nickname, for radio identification purposes and to build esprit de corps among
the swaggering brotherhood of aviators. Given Branch’s slight, scrawny frame —
he stood maybe five-foot-five with blow-dried hair — his squadron christened
him “Twig.”
Branch winced when he
learned his call sign and pleaded with the squadron’s commanding officer to
reconsider, according to a description of the episode that Branch later shared
with a senior Navy official.
He explained that his
father, Frank, already had been immortalized as “Twig” Branch decades earlier
when he starred as quarterback for Mississippi State University despite
weighing only 125 pounds.
The squadron
commander looked down at the young officer. You don’t like the name,
huh?
No
sir, Branch said.
Good, the commander replied. Then it’s settled. Twig
it is.
Truth was, the call
sign fit Branch to a T. With his squeaky twang, he sounded like another
bantamweight Naval Academy alumnus — Texas billionaire H. Ross Perot — and told
stories with the same homespun flair. “It’s like Sunday in Mississippi,” he
told shipmates while training at sea in 2005, according to an interview he gave at the time. “You get up, go to church,
eat some chicken, and shoot some guns. So enjoy it.”
As a pilot, he
thrived aboard a succession of aircraft carriers and flew A- 7 Corsairs and
F/A- 18 Hornets in combat over Grenada, Lebanon, Bosnia and Iraq. As commanding
officer of the USS Nimitz, he starred in Carrier, a PBS documentary about life aboard a nuclear-powered aircraft
carrier that aired to acclaim in 2008. As commanding officer of the USS Carl
Vinson carrier strike group, he led a humanitarian relief mission
to Haiti in 2010 when an earthquake killed more than 200,000 people.
By the time he was
promoted to director of naval intelligence in 2013, Pentagon insiders believed
he stood a good chance of becoming a four-star admiral. But his high-flying
career hit severe turbulence that November when Justice Department officials
asked to speak with him about the investigation into Francis.
When the admiral
arrived at Joint Base Andrews, already waiting in a VIP conference room were
Pletcher, the assistant U.S. attorney; Brian Young, a Justice Department trial
lawyer; and Eric Maddox, a special agent with the Naval Criminal Investigative
Service (NCIS) who specialized in counterintelligence.
Pletcher asked Branch
to sign a boilerplate NCIS form waiving his rights to remain silent and have an
attorney present, according to a transcript of the interview. The prosecutor
implied that the document was just a formality.
The document stated
plainly that Branch was a suspect in a military criminal investigation. The
admiral signed anyway. He volunteered that he’d met Francis in 2000 when he was
executive officer of the USS John C. Stennis, an aircraft carrier, and
saw him again five years later when he was the skipper of the Nimitz.
That prompted more
uncomfortable questions from the prosecutors. Did he ever attend social events
with Francis?
Yes, Branch said. The
Glenn Defense owner would host dinners “from time to time” for the senior ship
staff during port visits in Asia, usually at a restaurant or hotel.
Did the officers chip
in money for dinner? No, Branch said, not in his experience. He didn’t know how
much the meals cost.
Shortly after he was
promoted and entrusted with one of the Pentagon’s most sensitive jobs —
director of naval intelligence — Vice Adm. Ted “Twig” Branch received an urgent
request from the Justice Department. Prosecutors wanted to speak with him about
an investigation into leaks of classified material to a 350-pound Malaysian
defense contractor known as “Fat Leonard.”
The businessman,
Leonard Glenn Francis, and his company, Glenn Defense Marine Asia, held $200
million in contracts to resupply U.S. Navy ships and provide port security in
Asia. But Francis had recently been arrested in San Diego on fraud and bribery
charges. Federal agents were shocked to discover while carrying out search
warrants that he had obtained reams of classified information from corrupt Navy
officers about the itineraries of U.S. warships and submarines throughout the
Western Pacific.
As a foreigner
without a security clearance, Francis was prohibited from possessing U.S.
military secrets. Investigators were frantic that he might have sold or shared
the classified ship schedules to a hostile power such as China, placing U.S.
Navy vessels and crews at risk of attack.
Justice Department
officials needed to gauge the seriousness of the security breach and asked
Branch, as chief collector of the Navy’s secrets, to help them understand the
national security implications.
Branch, then 56,
wasn’t eager to speak with prosecutors. But given his job, he had little
choice. On Nov. 5, 2013, he arrived at the designated meeting place: a
conference room at Joint Base Andrews, the suburban Maryland airfield that
houses planes used by government VIPs, such as Air Force One.
The three-star
admiral was greeted by three investigators led by Mark Pletcher, an assistant
U.S. attorney who had traveled cross-country from San Diego. Pletcher explained
that his team was “talking to several people” about the classified leaks to
Glenn Defense.
What he didn’t say
was that the prosecution team was surreptitiously recording the meeting
because, days earlier, Francis had provided incriminating evidence against
Branch and another senior intelligence officer, Rear Adm. Bruce Loveless, who
worked at the Pentagon.
In a bid to strike a
plea deal, Francis had met secretly with prosecutors and federal agents and
bragged that, over several years, he had lavished Branch and Loveless with
expensive meals, cigars, prostitutes, and other illicit gifts.
Given the
allegations, investigators needed to determine whether the two leaders of the
Navy’s intelligence directorate — key figures in the U.S. intelligence
community who collaborated with the CIA and other spy agencies — had committed
a crime or were vulnerable to blackmail.
During the meeting
with prosecutors, Branch denied criminal wrongdoing or accepting prostitutes
from Francis. But he acknowledged that he had known the Malaysian businessman
for 13 years and had dined at his expense during port calls in Asia. He also
admitted taking gifts from Francis, including an exotic pewter letter opener.
“It’s like a Malaysian sword. It’s a curvy, saber-looking thing,” he told the
investigators, according to a transcript.
And yes, he added,
Francis gave wine and cigars as presents to Navy officers.
“He was very
generous,” Branch said.
In the end, federal
agents found no evidence that Branch or Loveless gave away classified
information, and both denied doing so. But the investigation into the two
admirals and their connections to Francis paralyzed the Office of Naval
Intelligence for years and left lasting scars at the highest levels of the
Pentagon.
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