It started in Zurich, where Carey and his aides were laying over for a bit. He walked into a bar, had himself a few drinks, and then ... didn't stop. For three days, Carey's "security exercises" seemed mostly composed of trying to beat John Barleycorn and get crunk with some fly honeys on the rooftop bar of the Ritz-Carlton. In retrospect, Carey admitted that they were shifty as hell, but he was too busy getting wrecked to think about things like "Why have we seen these ladies twice in the last two days?" or "Why are they so eager to party with a 60-year-old general from a foreign country?" or "Why are we talking about physics and optics at 3 a.m. in a cigar store?"
The Washington Post
"I said, 'I've got a launch code for you right here, baby.' And then I gave her an actual launch code."
Furthermore, the ladies couldn't quite decide whether they were British or Russian. But it didn't matter, because Carey immediately made it easy for every spy within earshot to do their job, reportedly ranting about how he "saves the world from war every day ... as commander of the only operational nuclear force in the world."
To cap it all off, General Carey also insulted the heck out of his Russian hosts, showing up late to meetings, constantly interrupting the translator during a tour of a monastery, trying repeatedly to force a Beatles cover band at a Mexican restaurant to let him get on stage and play with them, making, uh, untoward comments about the women he'd met at the Ritz in front of his Russian colleagues, and bitching about Snowden and Syria. Carey somehow made it back to the United States without getting his frigging uniform stolen, at which point he was understandably fired.