The CIA Files: A former agent reveals why the government has been tracking Sasquatch since 1962

Yosemite’s granite walls and the Olympic Peninsula’s moss-draped cathedrals are more than just scenic wonders; they are the high-security vaults of the American government. For twelve years, I held the key to those vaults. As a CIA field operative for Project Silverback, my job wasn’t to track spies or insurgents. It was to monitor an apex survivalist that the world thinks is a myth.

Bigfoot is real. They are not animals. They are a relict hominid population—an intelligent, sister-species of humanity that diverged from our lineage over 300,000 years ago. And for decades, the government has watched them die in silence. My name is Derek Shepard. In 1994, I walked into a Georgetown cafe to commit the ultimate act of treason: telling the truth.

I. The Birth of Project Silverback

It began in 1979 as a Cold War panic. Remote sensors in the Pacific Northwest—designed to detect Soviet nuclear tests—were being torn from solid granite by a force no bear could exert. When the NSA’s thermal satellites picked up 8-foot-tall bipedal heat signatures moving at 35 mph through the deep timber, the CIA formed a task force.

The initial theory was Soviet saboteurs. The reality was much older. In 1980, we made our first visual contact in the Olympic National Forest. We saw a male, nearly 500 pounds, demonstrating tactical awareness that chilled us to the bone. It didn’t just run; it used “ghosting” techniques—stepping on stones to avoid tracks and doubling back to watch us from the rear.

II. The Biology of a Legend

By 1983, I was deep in the field. We weren’t just observing; we were collecting data that would rewrite human history.

Genetics: DNA analysis of hair and tissue samples revealed a 99% similarity to Homo sapiens. They possess the Chromosome 2 fusion, the definitive genetic “smoking gun” of the human family tree.

Physiology: Their mid-tarsal break allows for a flexible foot, ideal for vertical granite climbs where a human would need ropes.

Intelligence: They exhibit proto-language and symbolic behavior, such as stacking stones in specific geometric patterns to mark territory or warn of human presence.

III. The Incident at Ross Lake

The most profound moment of my career happened in 1986. We were monitoring Group 7, a family unit near Ross Lake. A zoologist on our team, Dr. Patricia Chen, broke every protocol in the book. She walked into a clearing where an adult male sat and mirrored his submissive posture.

What followed was a diplomatic exchange. The creature offered her a handful of berries. In return, she offered a granola bar. They shared a meal in the 2:00 a.m. moonlight. The creature wasn’t a beast; it was a person from a different world. He looked at us through night-vision goggles and pointed—a deliberate, intelligent gesture—telling us that the forest was his, but for tonight, we were guests.

IV. The Dark Threshold: 1993

For years, the mandate was “Observe and Protect.” We kept them hidden to prevent a circus of hunters and scientists. But in late 1993, the mission shifted. A senior official, whose name was never logged, authorized a “medical extraction” of an injured male near Mount St. Helens.

I saw the aftermath. The creature wasn’t being treated; it was being interrogated. Invasive tissue sampling, repetitive playback of recorded Bigfoot screams to test psychological response—it was biological warfare research disguised as science. The creature died on the fourth night.

When I asked where the body went, I was told to “drop it if I liked having a pulse.” That was the day I decided to leave. I realized the government wasn’t keeping the secret to protect Bigfoot; they were keeping it to own them.

V. The Georgetown Disclosure

In 1994, I met Richard Morrison at Murphy’s Cafe. I handed him the “Silverback Files”—photographs of the 1986 interaction, DNA sequences, and a population chart showing a catastrophic 40% decline in numbers over the last decade.

“They’re going extinct, Richard,” I told him. “And the CIA is content to watch the clock run out so the problem disappears forever.”

As we sat there, a man in a dark raincoat—unmistakably an Agency “cleaner”—entered the cafe. The surveillance had never stopped. I had to vanish, leaving Morrison with the documents that would either save a species or start a war.

VI. The Final Warning

A few days later, Leland Shaw, a former Deputy Director, reached out to me via a secure landline.

“Derek, you think sunlight is the cure,” he said. “But the moment you publish, every hunter in America becomes a soldier. You’ll turn their sanctuary into a killing field.”

He revealed a terrifying truth: there are groups outside the government who want these beings for their biological resilience—for their “stealth DNA” that allows them to move undetected by thermal sensors. By revealing them, I was handing them a map to the last survivors.

VII. The Reckoning

I sit now in a safe house, listening to the static of a shortwave radio. Morrison is going to press. The truth is coming, but it feels like a heavy rain before a flood.

The last thing I remember before going off the grid was a sound in Rock Creek Park—the same resonant, conversational call I heard in the Olympics years ago. They are here, even in the heart of the capital. They have been watching us build our cities on top of their graveyards for centuries.

We owe them more than a classified file. We owe them the right to exist without being a target or a specimen. The Silverback Files are no longer mine; they belong to the world. I only hope that when the American people look into those amber eyes, they see a brother, not a monster.