Exactly seven years ago, on February 21, 1994, CIA officer Aldrich Ames was unexpectedly summoned to the office. He stepped down from the porch of his home in Arlington, Virginia, and got into his red Jaguar. It was a holiday, Presidents Day, and Ames went to work in an informal suit. A block and a half from the house, he had to slow down: two cars ahead of him stupidly stood up, blocking the way.