The Spy Who Saved The West: The Complete Story of the Cold War Betrayal and Espionage

By Falcon Jack

Uncover the chilling truth of Cold War betrayal in "The Spy Who Saved The West."

Ever wondered about the hidden intrigues that shaped the Cold War era?
Curious about the untold stories of espionage that could have altered history?
Have you ever felt the thrill of conspiracy, longing for a tale that keeps you on the edge?

Author Jack Falcon, a seasoned intelligence operative with firsthand experience, delves deep into the shadows of espionage. Having faced the same uncertainties and dangers as the characters in the story, Falcon's authenticity resonates with readers who crave a genuine understanding of the era's challenges.

Unveil the gripping narratives of Cold War betrayal and espionage that history tried to bury.

Navigate the web of secrets woven by real-life spies, exposing the stakes that could have changed the world.

Experience the tension and adrenaline of covert operations as if you were in the field yourself.

Gain insights into the psyche of the spies who risked everything for their nations, blurring the lines between loyalty and betrayal.

Discover shocking revelations that rewrite the narrative of historical events you thought you knew.

Immerse yourself in a rollercoaster of emotions, from the highs of successful operations to the lows of heart-wrenching betrayals.

Access exclusive accounts and classified information, providing a new perspective on the Cold War's pivotal moments.

Arm yourself with knowledge, as this meticulously researched book separates fact from fiction in the world of espionage.

If you want to learn the untold stories that shaped the course of history, then scroll up and buy "The Spy Who Saved The West" today. Uncover the secrets, feel the tension, and experience the true stories that define the Cold War era.

• Language: English
• Publisher: print
• Release date: Apr 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9791223023518

Book preview

The Spy Who Saved the West

A Complete Story of the Cold War Betrayal and Espionage

Jack Falcon

Copyright © 2024 by Jack Falcon

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

Jack Falcon asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Table of Content

Chapter1: Introduction (18 May 1985)

Chapter 2: A Family Business

Chapter3: Recruitment and Disillusionment

Chapter4: London Calling

Chapter 5: The Secrets

Chapter 6: Close Calls and Narrow Escapes

Chapter 7: The Circle of Trust

Chapter 8: Betrayal Looms

Chapter 9: The Daring Plan

Chapter 10: The KGB Closes In

Chapter 11: A High-Stakes Decision

Chapter 12: The Road to Finland

Chapter 13: A Desperate Flight

Chapter 14: Disguise and Deception

Chapter 15: Escape to the West

Chapter 16: Debriefing and Revelation

Chapter 17: A New Life, a New Identity

Author Biography

Chapter1: Introduction (18 May 1985)

This was just another typical bugging assignment for Directorate K, the KGB's counterintelligence division.

The locks on the entrance door of the apartment on the eighth story of 220 Leninsky Prospekt, a Moscow skyscraper where KGB officers and their families reside, were sprung in less than a minute. Two technicians quickly and covertly wired the apartment, implanting eavesdropping devices behind the wallpaper and skirting boards, a live microphone in the phone mouthpiece, and video cameras in the light fixtures in the kitchen, sitting room, and bedroom while two men wearing overalls and gloves went about methodically searching the flat. By the time they were done, an hour later, the KGB had eyes and ears in every area of the apartment. At last, they donned face masks and dusted the garments and shoes in the closet with radioactive dust, just enough to prevent poisoning but enough to allow the wearer's movements to be monitored by the KGB's Geiger counters. After that, they walked out and cautiously locked the front door.

A few hours later, the Aeroflot flight from London touched down in Moscow, bringing with it a top Russian intelligence officer.

The KGB's Colonel Oleg Antonyevich Gorvievsky represented the height of this profession. He was a master of the Soviet intelligence services, having assiduously worked his way up through the ranks and served in Britain, Moscow, and Scandinavia with almost no blemish on his record. At the age of 46, he received a promotion to the position of chief of the KGB station in London, which was a very desirable position, along with an invitation to come to Moscow for a formal coronation by the KGB chief. As a professional spy, Gordievsky was expected to rise to the top of the enormous and brutal security and intelligence system that ruled the Soviet Union.

Gordievsky was an athletic, stocky man who walked with confidence among the airport bustle. But there was a quiet horror bubbling up inside him. For Oleg Gordievsky was a British spy as well as a veteran of the KGB and a devoted secret servant of the Soviet Union.

The British foreign intelligence agency MI6 had hired the operative known as NOCTON twelve years prior, and he had since proven to be one of the most valuable spies in history. He provided his British handlers with a vast amount of information that altered the course of the Cold War by breaking through Soviet spy networks, preventing nuclear war, and giving the West a rare understanding of the Kremlin's thinking during a very dangerous time in world affairs. Though neither the American President nor the British Prime Minister knew the Russian spy's true name, Ronald Reagan and Margaret Thatcher had been briefed on the incredible cache of knowledge he had delivered. Gordvievsky's secret life was completely unknown, not even to his young bride.

The small group of MI6 officers who were aware of the situation had rejoiced over Gordivesky's nomination as a KGB rezident—the Russian name for a rezidentura, a KGB head of station. Being the most senior Soviet intelligence agent in Britain, Gordievsky would now have access to the most intimate details of Russian spying and be able to warn the West of the KGB's plans before they were carried out, thus neutralizing the organization in Britain. Despite everything, the NOCTON crew was uneasy about the sudden call to return to Moscow. A few detected a trap. In a hurriedly called meeting with MI6 handlers in a safe house in London, Gordievsky had been given the choice to defect and stay in the UK with his family. All those present at the conference were aware of the stakes: if Gordviesky was heading into a trap, he would lose everything, including his life, but if he returned as an official KGB rezident, MI6, the CIA, and their Western partners would win the intelligence lottery. After giving it some serious thought, he decided, I will go back.  In the hopes that it would never be used, the MI6 officials reviewed Gordviesky's emergency escape plan, codenamed PIMLICO, which had been created seven years prior. MI6 had never before exfiltrated a person from the USSR, much less a KGB officer. The elaborate and dangerous escape plan was meant to be used as a last resort only.

Gordievsky was skilled at identifying threats. He felt danger all around him as he strolled through the Moscow airport, his nerves frayed from internal tension. The passport official appeared to examine his documents for an excessive amount of time before approving him. Where was the person who was meant to meet him, someone who owed a KGB colonel returning from overseas a small favor?The airport was always well guarded, but today it felt like there were even more of the same old unremarkable men and women loitering around. Gordviesky got into a taxi and told himself that if the KGB had known the truth, he would have been taken into custody as soon as he set foot on Russian oil and would have been headed straight to the KGB cells for questioning, torture, and eventually execution.

When he stepped inside the well-known apartment building on Leninsky Prospekt and rode the elevator to the eighth story, he could not have told who was following him. It had been January since he had left the family apartment.

The front door's first lock opened with ease, followed by the second. However, the door remained in place. The door's third lock, a vintage deadbolt that was installed when the apartment building was first constructed, had been secured.

But the third lock was never used by Gordievsky. He had never possessed the key, in fact. That implies that someone had entered using a skeleton key, and that person unintentionally triple-locked the door after they left. The KGB must be that someone.

The realization that his apartment had been broken into, searched, and perhaps bugged solidified the worries he had been feeling for the past week. It was a terrifying and immobilizing feeling. There was mistrust about him. He had been duped by someone. KGB has his eye on him. His other spies were spying on the spy.

Chapter 2: A Family Business

Oleg Gordievsky was shaped, adored, twisted, injured, and on the verge of being annihilated by the KGB from the moment he was born. He was born and raised in the Soviet espionage service. Throughout his life, his father served in the intelligence community and was always dressed in his KGB uniform, including on the weekends. The Gordievskys were KGB spies who resided in a special apartment building among other secret families, ate cuisine that was only supplied to officers, and spent their leisure time mingling with other espionage families.

The most intricate and comprehensive intelligence organization ever established was the KGB, also known as the Komitet Gosudarstvennoy Bezopasnosti or committee of state security. It merged the functions of state police, internal security enforcement, and international and domestic intelligence collection. It was the direct heir of Stalin's spy network. The KGB was omnipresent, ominous, and oppressive; it dominated and subjugated every sphere of Soviet society. It suppressed internal dissension, protected the communist hierarchy, conducted counterintelligence and espionage operations against adversaries, and intimidated the USSR's populace into obedient submission. It acquired, purchased, and pilfered military, political, and scientific secrets from all over the world by hiring spies and agents around the globe. The KGB, which had over a million officers, spies, and informants at its peak, had a greater influence on Soviet society than any other organization.

The initials stood for all the brutality of a totalitarian government headed by an anonymous official mafia in the West, but people who were subject to its strict control did not recognize the KGB for what it actually stood for. While the KGB undoubtedly instilled fear and obedience, it was also revered as the protector of communism, a stand-in for Western imperialism and capitalism, and a kind of Praetorian Guard. Being a part of this exclusive and privileged group was a source of pride and appreciation. Those that enlisted were in the military for life. Vladimir Putin, a former KGB officer, famously declared that there was no such thing as a former KGB man. It was hard to exit this elite club once you joined it. For those with the talent and drive to succeed, joining the KGB was both an honor and a responsibility.

Oleg Gordviesky never gave anything else any real thought. His father, Anton Lavrentyevich Gordviesky, was a railway worker's son who had taught before the 1917 Revolution turned him into a devoted, dogmatic communist who upheld ideological dogma. The elder Gordviesky never wavered in his dedication, even when his beliefs required him to partake in heinous crimes; the party was God, his son wrote later. He orchestrated the agricultural expropriation from peasants to feed Soviet forces and cities in 1932, contributing to the Sovietization of Kazakhstan. That led to a famine that claimed the lives of about 1.5 million people. Anton witnessed firsthand the state-induced famine. That year he joined the state security office and then the secret police of Stalin, the People's Commissariat for Internal Affairs (NKVD), which was the forerunner of the KGB. He was in charge of political indoctrination and discipline as an officer in the political directorate. Following his marriage to 24-year-old statistician Olga Nikolayevna Gornova, Anton moved into a Moscow apartment building designated for the upper echelons of the intelligence community. Vasili, the first child, was born in 1932. Under Stalin, the Gordievsky family prospered. When Comrade Stalin said that there was a deadly threat within the Rovolution, Anton Gordievsky was prepared to assist in eliminating the traitors. During the Great Purge of 1936–1987, a large number of people were killed, including teachers, generals, intelligentsia members, Poles, Red Army soldiers, terrorists, saboteurs, counterrevolutionary spies, terrorists, Jews, peasants, and government employees. The majority were completely innocent. The best chance of surviving Stalin's paraniod police state was to turn on someone else. The head of the NKVD, Nikolai Yezhov, stated that it is better for ten innocent people to suffer than for one spy to escape. Chips fly when you cut wood. The Siberian gulags grew to overflowing as the informants muttered and the executioners and torturers got to work. However, as with all revolutions, the enforcers themselves were eventually tainted. The NKVD started looking into things and cleaning house. The Gordvieskys' apartment building was raided more than a dozen times in a six-month period during the height of the bloodletting. When the family was arrested at night, the man was taken away first, followed by the other members.

It appears likely that Anton Gordviesky identified a few of the state's adversaries. He stated that the NKVD is always correct, which is both a very reasonable and incorrect conclusion.

On October 10, 1938, Oleg Antonyevich Gordviesky, the second son, was born as the Great Terror was coming to an end and war was approaching. The Gordvierskys looked like the perfect Soviet citizens to their friends and neighbors: they were ideologically pure, loyal to the Party and the state, and now they were raising two strong boys. Marina, a daughter, was born seven years following Oleg. The Gordvieskys were comfortable, affluent, and safe.

However, upon closer inspection, layers of deceit were hidden beneath the family's exterior façade, and there were cracks in it. Never once did Anton Gordievsky discuss what he had done during the terror, the purges, and the famines. The elder Gordviesky was a prime specimen of the Homo Sovietcus species—a submissive state employee shaped by communist persecution. Beneath, though, he was terrified, frightened, and maybe gnawed with guilt. Later on, Oleg began to perceive his father as a scared guy.

Oleg's mother Olga Gordviesky was composed of less comprehensible material. She never became a Party member and didn't think the NKVD was perfect. Her brother was transported to the Eastern Siberian Gulag for criticizing collective agriculture, her father lost his watermill to the communists, and she witnessed other friends being forcibly removed from their houses and taken away during the night. She knew the arbitrary nature and retaliatory nature of state terror, with the deep-rooted common sense of a peasant, yet she said nothing.

Oleg and Vasili were born during a time of conflict and were six years apart in age. One of Gordviesky's first recollections was seeing rows of disheveled German prisoners being carried, guarded, and confined like animals as they were paraded through Moscow's streets. Anton would sometimes spend extended periods of time away from the troops, giving lectures on Party doctrine.

Oleg Gordvievsky diligently acquired the tenets of communist dogma. Attending School 130, he shown a proclivity for history and languages at a young age and gained knowledge of both domestic and foreign communist heroes. He was fascinated by foreign cultures even though the West was shrouded in a thick cloud of deception. He started reading British Ally, a propaganda sheet published in Russian by the British embassy, when he was six years old in an effort to promote Anglo-Russian understanding. He was a German student. Like any other youngster, he became a member of the Communist Youth League, or Komosomol.

His father propagated the communist ideology found in three official periodicals that he brought home. The KGB evolved from the NKVD, and Anton Gordievsky dutifully followed suit. Oleg's mother emanated a subdued resistance that surfaced only in sporadic, half-whispered asides. The boys were brought up as atheists because religious practice was forbidden under communism. However, their maternal grandmother had Vasili baptized into the Russian Orthodox Church in secret and would have christened Oleg as well if their horrified father had not learned of it and stepped in.

Oleg Gordievsky was raised in a close-knit, devoted family that was permeated by dishonesty. Though he presented himself as a strong defender of communism and worshipped the Party, Anton Gordievsky was really a scared little guy who had seen horrific things. The perfect KGB bride, Olga Gordviesky, harbored a deep contempt for the organization. Ole's grandmother worshipped a forbidden, unlawful god in secret. No adult member of the family ever told anyone else or themselves how they truly felt. It was conceivable to have alternative beliefs in secret in Stalin's Russia despite the oppressive conformity; nevertheless, doing so was too risky to be honest, even with family members. Oleg realized as a young child that it was possible to lead a double life, to love the people in your immediate vicinity while keeping your actual identity hidden, and to seem like one person on the outside and someone else on the inside.

After completing his education, Oleg Gordievsky received a silver medal, became the president of the Komsomol, and was perceived as an ordinary, unexceptional, athletic, capable, and clever member of the Soviet system. He'd learned to compartmentalize, though. His mother, father, and grandmother were all persons in disguise, albeit in different ways. Growing up, Gordievsky was surrounded by secrets.

1953 saw the death of Stalin. Three years later, Nikita Khrushchev, his successor, criticized him at the 20th Party Congress. Anton Gordviesky appeared disoriented. The official censure of Stalin, according to his son, significantly undermined the theological and intellectual basis of his upbringing. The way Russia was changing did not sit well with him. However, his son did.

Though short-lived and constrained, the Khrushchev Thaw was a time of true liberalization during which censorship was loosened and hundreds of political prisoners were freed. It was an exciting time to be young, Russian, and full of optimism.

Oleg enrolled in the esteemed Moscow State Institute of International Relations at the age of seventeen. There, energized by the fresh air, he had serious conversations with his friends on how to implement socialism in a humane manner. He overreached himself. He had absorbed some of his mother's nonconformity. He wrote a speech one day, defending freedom and democracy with a lack of understanding. In the language lab, he recorded it and played it for a few other classmates. They were horrified. Oleg, you need to trash this right away and make sure you never bring up these issues again. He was suddenly afraid and worried whether one of his classmates had told the authorities about his extreme views. The Institute was home to KGB agents.

When the Soviet tank rolled into Hungary in 1956 to quell a national revolt against Soviet control, the limits of Khrushchev's reformism were brutally demonstrated. News of the suppressed uprising made its way back to Russia despite the all-encompassing Soviet censorship and propaganda. Of the subsequent crackdown, Oleg remembered that all warmth vanished. A chill wind blew in.

Henry Kissinger referred to the Institute of International Relations as the Harvard of Russia, the most prestigious university in the Soviet Union. It was the top training site for diplomats, scientists, economists, politicians, and spies, and it was overseen by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. With the lens of communist ideology, Gordievsky studied international relations, geography, economics, and history. The Institute taught more languages than any other university in the world—fifty-six. Proficiency in language provided him with a direct route to the KGB and the international travel he so much desired. He applied to study English even though he was already proficient in German, but the classes were full. His older brother, who had already enlisted in the KGB, advised him to learn Swedish. The gateway to the rest of Scandinavia is located there. Gordviesky followed his counsel.

Despite being severely edited, the foreign newspapers and magazines that the Institute library carried provided a window into the world beyond. Cleverly, he started to peruse these, as displaying excessive curiosity in the West was in and of itself cause for concern. Occasionally during the night, he would surreptitiously tune in to BBC World Service, circumventing the Soviet censors' radio jamming equipment, and discern the first hint of reality.

Like many people, Gordievsky had a tendency to view his past through the prism of experience in later life. He thought his destiny was inextricably linked to his character and that he had always secretly harbored the seeds of disobedience. It wasn't. Like his father and brother, he was an enthusiastic communist in school and eager to work for the Soviet Union in the KGB. Though he was no revolutionary, the Hungarian Uprising had captured his attention as a young man. Even though I was still a part of the system, my sense of disappointment was rising. He was similar to many of his student peers in this regard.

When Gordievsky was nineteen, he started running cross country. He was drawn to the sport's solitary aspect and its rhythm of prolonged, intense effort in which he competed against himself to push himself to the maximum. Oleg had the potential to be flirty, sociable, and attractive to women. His wide, somewhat soft features and swept-back hair from his forehead gave him an unabashedly gorgeous appearance. His face brightened up, but his demeanor remained serious until a dark humour burst through his eyes. He was usually gregarious and friendly while with others, but there was something tough and secret about him. He felt comfortable in his own company, but he was neither a loner nor lonely. He rarely expressed his emotions. Usually driven to better himself, Oleg thought cross-country running helped develop character. He would run through the parks and streets of Moscow for hours on end, by himself with his thoughts.

A fellow runner on the university track squad named Stanislaw Kaplan was one of the few students with whom he became close. As one of several hundred talented students from the Soviet bloc, Standa Kaplan was a native of Czechoslovakia who had already graduated from Charles University in Prague. Years later, Gordievsky stated that Kaplan's uniqueness had not been suppressed, unlike others from previously communist-affected countries. He was a year older and pursuing a degree in military translation. The two young men discovered that their beliefs and aspirations were similar. He had a liberal outlook and was highly skeptical about alaraming. Standa drew ladies to him with his dark beautiful looks. The two students bonded quickly and started running, pursuing females, and dining at a Czech restaurant near Gorky Park.

His older brother Vasili, who was training to become an illegal spy and part of the Soviet Union's massive worldwide army of deep undercover operatives, had an equally significant influence.

Two different types of KGB spies were deployed abroad. The first held official positions as a commercial representative, an accredited journalist, a member of the Soviet diplomatic or consular staff, or a cultural or military attaché. Due to their diplomatic immunity, these authorized spies could only be proclaimed persona non grata and ejected from the nation rather than facing criminal charges for espionage in the event that their activities were discovered. An illegal spy, on the other hand, traveled under a false identity and with fictitious documents, had no official standing, and just blended in with the nation to which they were assigned. These spies are referred to as NOCs, or non-official cover, in the West. The KGB submerged and subversive illegals under the guise of regular citizens, planting them throughout the world. They acquired intelligence, enlisted operatives, and carried out numerous types of espionage, just like legitimate spies. As sleepers, they may occasionally hide for extended periods of time before activating. These were also possible fifth columnists, ready to fight should an East-West conflict break out. Because they operated outside of official channels, illegals were unable to communicate through secure diplomatic channels or be paid in a way that could be tracked down. However, they left fewer trails for counterintelligence investigators to follow than spies accredited to an embassy. Permanent KGB stations, headed by rezidents (MI6 jargon for head of station), housed a number of KGB officers in different official capacities in every Soviet embassy. Determining which Soviet personnel were actual diplomats and which were spies was one issue facing Western counterintelligence. Finding the illegal was much more difficult. Foreign intelligence was handled by the KGB's First Chief Directorate (FCD). Directorate, which stands for specific training, deployed, and oversaw the undocumented workers within this. In 1960, Vasili Gordievsky was officially hired by Directorate S. Inside the Institute of International Relations, the KGB kept an office manned by two officials who were always on the lookout for new recruits. Vasili told his superiors in Directorate S that his younger brother, who speaks several languages fluently, might be considering a career in the same field.

Oleg Gordievsky was asked to come in for a conversation at the beginning of 1961. He was then instructed to go to a building close to the KGB headquarters in Dzerzhinsky Square, where he was courteously interrogated in German by a middle-aged woman who praised his command of the language. He was now a member of the system from that moment on. Gordievsky never applied to be a member of the KGB; this was not a club you joined. It picked you out.

Gordievsky was transferred to East Berlin for a six-month internship as a translator in the Russian embassy while his tenure at the university was coming to a conclusion. Excited about what would be his first international journey, Gordievsky's excitement level increased when he was summoned to Directorate S for an East German briefing. Even though the German Democratic Republic was ruled by communists and a Soviet satellite, the KGB was nonetheless interested in it. Vasili was already residing there without authorization. With ease, Oleg consented to contact his brother and complete a few menial tasks for his new unofficial job. Arriving in East Berlin on August 12, 1961, Gordievsky traveled to a student accommodation situated within the KGB enclave in the Karlshorst district. The flow of East Germans escaping to the West through West Berlin had become a torrent over the preceding months. Approximately 3.5 million East Germans, or about 25% of the country's total population, had left their communist home by 1961.

The following morning, Gordievsky discovered that bulldozers had encroached into East Berlin. Moscow was pressuring the East German government to take drastic measures to stop the influx. In order to keep its own inhabitants confined, East Berlin and the West were physically divided by the Berlin Wall, which was being built. The Berlin Wall, which was one of the most disgusting buildings ever constructed, was the physical representation of the Iron Curtain and was made up of more than 180 miles of concrete and wire, bunkers, anti-vehicle trenches, and chain fence.

As troops unrolled miles of barbed wire and East German laborers tore up the streets along the border to render them impenetrable to cars, Gordievsky stared in frightened wonder. A few East Germans made frantic attempts to break free by scaling barricades or trying to swim the canals that made up part of the border, sensing that their escape path was rapidly coming to an end. With orders to shoot anyone attempting to cross from East to West, guards were positioned along the frontier. The 24-year-old Gordievsky was impressed by the new wall. The only thing that could prevent the East Germans from leaving for the West and keeping them in their communist utopia was a physical barrier backed up by armed guards in their watchtowers. However, Gordievsky's dismay with the Berlin Wall's building during the night did not stop him from dutifully following the KGB's instructions. The innate fear of authority was coupled with an engrained habit of submission. Directorate S had given Gordievsky the name of a German woman who had worked as an informant for the KGB in the past. His task was to get to know her and see if she was willing to continue sharing information. He used the local police station to locate her address. The young man carrying a bunch of flowers arrived suddenly, but the middle-aged woman answering the door didn't seem to be phased by it. She was clearly ready to carry on working with the KGB over a cup of tea. Writing eagerly, Gordievsky prepared his first KGB report. It took him months to comprehend the true nature of what had transpired. Instead of her, I was the one being tested.

He made contact with Vasili, a Leipzig resident posing as someone else, that Christmas. Oleg kept his dismay at the Berlin Wall's building a secret from Vasili. His older brother would not have approved of such ideological wavering, as he was already a career KGB operative. The boys guarded their secrets from one other, much as their mother had kept her genuine emotions hidden from her husband. Vasili had no notion what Oleg was truly feeling, and Oleg had no idea what Vasili was actually doing in East Germany. Oleg was deeply impacted by a performance of the Christman Oratorio that the brothers saw. Comparatively speaking, Russia appeared to be a spiritual wasteland, with only authorized composers permitted to be heard and church music that offended the class, like Bach, being condemned as decadent and bourgeois and outlawed.

The few months Gordievsky spent in East Germany had a lasting impression on him; he had seen Europe physically and symbolically split into opposing ideologies, he had tasted cultural fruits that Moscow had refused to give him, and he had begun spying. Getting a sneak peek at what I may do if I joined the KGB was fascinating.

Actually, he had done so already.

When Gordievsky returned to Moscow, he was instructed to report to work at the KGB on July 31, 1962. Why did he join a group that was imposing an ideology that he had already begun to doubt? Traveling abroad was a glamourous perk of working for the KGB. Tranquility is alluring. He had ambition as well. The KGB could evolve. Maybe he will change. Russia may evolve. The benefits and salary were also fantastic.

When Olga Gordievsky found out that her younger son would be joining the intelligence agency like his father and sibling, she was devastated. For once, she expressed her outrage at the system and the oppressive machinery that kept it in place.

Oleg made it clear that he would be employed by the First Chief Directorate, an elite group of intellectuals who understand foreign languages, rather than the internal KGB, and that he would be performing complex job requiring training and education in the foreign department. He informed her it's not truly like the KGB. Actually, it's a displomatic and intelligent work. Olga walked out of the room, turning aside. Anton Gordievsky remained silent. Oleg saw his father's lack of pride in his mannerisms. When Gordievsky realized the extent of Stalinist repression years later, he began to question if his father, who was now close to retirement, had been embarrassed by all the murders and horrors the KGB had perpetrated and was just too scared to talk to his own son about it. Maybe Anton Gordievsky was too scared to warn his son about what he was getting into and was fighting to maintain his double life as a key member of the KGB.

Gordievsky joined Standa Kaplan at the Institute's vacation camp on the Black Sea coast during his final summer as a civilian. Kaplan had made the decision to remain for one more month before going back to join the powerful Czechoslovak intelligence agency, the StB. Before long, the two pals will work together as allies in Soviet bloc espionage. They camped among the pines for a month, going for daily runs, swimming, tanning, and talking about women, music, and politics. Kaplan's criticism of the communist regime grew. It delighted Gordievsky to receive such perilous confidences. We shared a mutual understanding and trust.

Kaplan addressed a letter to Gordievsky shortly after arriving back in Czechoslovakia. Kaplan made a very important request amidst the rumors about the girls he had met and how much fun they would have together if his friend came to visit. Do you have a copy of Pravda that has Yevtushenko's poem about Stalin, Oleg? The poem at question was Heirs of Stalin by Yevgeny Yevtushenko, one of the most well-known and vocal writers in Russia, and it was a frontal critique of Stalinism. The poem served as a warning that some in the leadership still harbored nostalgia for the terrible days of Stalinism and as a demand that the Soviet Union take steps to ensure that Stalin would never rise again. By past, I mean the mistreatment of people, the making of false accusations, and the imprisonment of innocent people. Why do they exist? Others may disagree, but I can't stay idle. While the heirs of Stalin roam this planet. After appearing in the Communist Party's official publication and being reprinted in Czechoslovakia, the poem created quite a stir. Kaplan wrote to Gordievsky, It had a powerful effect on some of our people, with a certain tinge of discontent. He expressed his desire to contrast the original Russian text with the Czech version. In actuality, however, Kaplan was conveying to his friend a covert message of cooperation—an admission that they agreed with Yevtushenko and that, like the poet, they would not stand idly by in the face of Stalin's legacy.

Codenamed School 101, it was an ironic and completely unconscious homage to George Orwell's Room 101 in Nineteen Eighty Four, the basement torture chamber where the Party breaks a prisoner's resistance by subjecting him to his worst nightmare. The KGB's Red Banner elite training academy was located deep in the woods, fifty miles north of Moscow.

In this place, 120 trainee KGB officials, including Gordievsky, would be initiated into the most intimate details of Soviet espionage. firearms, unarmed combat and surveillance, hiring and managing spies, legals and illegals, agents and double agents, obscure arts and language of this odd strade, all this and more. The most crucial training was in the art of dry cleaning, or detecting and avoiding observation. how to recognize when you are being followed, and how to evade surveillance in a way that looks accidental rather than deliberate, since a target who is clearly aware of being watched is probably a professional intelligence agent. The KGB instructors concluded that the intelligence officer's behavior shouldn't raise any red flags. A surveillance service will be encouraged to operate more covertly, tenaciously, and creatively if it observes that a foreign individual is overtly looking for evidence.

A key component of any covert operation is the ability to communicate with an agent while they are being watched or even while they are being monitored. An officer or agent operating covertly is referred to as having gone black in Western spy jargon. Test after test, the KGB students were given assignments such as finding a specific person at a specific location, dropping off or picking up information, figuring out whether or not they were being followed, appearing to throw off their tails, and showing up at the designated location spotlessly and dry cleaned. Seventh Directorate of the KGB was in charge of surveillance. Professionals with extensive training in the art of following a suspect would participate in the exercises, and at the conclusion of each day, the surveillance team and the student trainee would exchange notes. Gordievsky discovered he was quite good at proverka, despite the fact that it was nerve-wracking, time-consuming, competitive, and exhausting.

Oleg acquired skills in setting up a signal site, which is a covert sign placed in a public area. For instance, he learned how to make a brush contact, which involves physically passing a message or object to another person without being noticed, and how to make a dead letter drop, which involves leaving a message or cash at a specific location for someone else to pick up without making direct contact. He received instruction in secret writing, ciphers and codes, photography, disguise, and recognition signals. In addition to political and economics lessons, the young spies received ideological instruction to strengthen their adherence to Maxim Leninism. These tired phrases and ideas, as one of Oleg's classmates noted, had the feel of ceremonial spells, like hourly and daily pledges of allegiance. Veteran officers with overseas deployment experience lectured on Western customs and culture to get cadets ready to confront and grasp bourgeois capitalism.

Gordievsky took up the alias of his first spy. When choosing a pseudonym, both Soviet and Western intelligence services followed the same guidelines: it should be close to your real name and start with the same letter. This way, if someone knew you only as your spy name and addressed you by your real name, they might assume they misheard. Guardiyetsev was the name Gordievsky decided on.

He made the same lifelong vow to the KGB as all the other students. I swear to protect state secrets and to defend my country to the last drop of blood. He didn't hesitate to do this. As a condition of admittance, he also became a member of the Communist Party. Even though he had some reservations, he nonetheless joined the KGB because it was exciting. Hence, the year-long training program at School 101 was, far from being an Orwellian nightmare, the happiest time in his early years, full with anticipation and excitement. Along with intelligence and ideological conformity, his