November 28th, 1953. New York City. 

At 2:30 AM the body hit the sidewalk. A few seconds later, a shower of glass.

The doorman of the Statler Hotel yelled to the lobby that there was a jumper.

The night manager rushed out and saw him. A man, about 40 years old, lying on the pavement. He was on his back, wearing only his underwear and blood started to pool around him.

13 stories up, a single window was open; its curtain flapping through broken glass.

The night manager knelt beside the man, whose eyes were open and was somehow still alive. He desperately tried to speak but was choking on blood and couldn't be understood. After a minute or two of trying to communicate, the man took a final deep breath and was gone.

Nobody knows for sure what he was trying to say before he died.

But one thing is for certain, it was something about the CIA.