Post by BUNYIP on Apr 4, 2006 23:51:30 GMT -5
This is first Chapter ROUGH of A SPY NOVEL I am writing. It will be about 400 pages and 26 Chapters long. It is in First Person and I take the part of a Russian Spy rather than the normal Patriotic Hero like James Bond. This is to be different than what’s out there already in bookland.
This chapter may have some errors re spacings etc. The final chapter 1 has been done on a disk and final edited. I have written 13 Chapters so far.which is just over 60,000 words still
another 60,000 to go LOL.
When pasting here the paragraph headings didn't go in the two spacings and too much work to do to correct so sorry about that.
‘WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! COMRADE!’
CHAPTER 1
MOSCOW BOUND
I had been ordered to Moscow immediately.
It was a KGB HQ Directive and could not be refused.
The Directive had come to me via Major Zhukov, K Division Director, Counter-Intelligence, KGB. My immediate Superior.
I had been working in K Division for nearly five years as a KGB Signals and Telephone Intercepts Analysis Officer stationed at the Australian Desk. I had been given the Australian Desk in K Division because of my ability to fully understand, read, write and speak the English language reasonably fluently.
In fact I had been taught English by the Australians at Murdoch University, Perth, Western Australia. On a three year Exchange Student Study Visa. The scheme had been promoted at the time by a Federal Labour Party Government 'Initiative for better "International Relations" with Russia.
I won the English Language, Political Science and Social Studies Exchange Scholarship out of several hundred other Russian Student finalists fair and square and not just because my
Father (now deceased. ) was General Uri Kharachev. A highly decorated and much respected Second World War hero. It had been implied by some disgruntled Students who had missed out on this fully paid trip to the West that my Father had influenced the outcome some way. However, I had already been involved with studies of the English language at High School, intending to use it as one of my credit units towards entry for a University Law
Degree. So it was logical that someone that already had a fair understanding of, and who could actually speak, basic English, would be chosen over those who couldn’t. The only
involvement my Father could be accused of in the whole affair was he had earlier pushed me in that direction, as he felt the future would reward those who could speak English as their
second language. I hope he was right?
When I look back now on those very enjoyable years spent in Australia, I can’t help a small laugh at the irony! If the Australian Government only knew just what I was using that Exchange Scholarship for now!
When Major Zhukov had called me into his office he had also emphasised the urgency of the Directive and that I should waste no time at all in reporting to a General Chellenko at KGB HQ, Moscow. General Chellenko was waiting for me and he wasn’t the sort of person who liked to be kept waiting. I have yet to meet a KGB Superior Officer who does!
Transport to Moscow had been quickly arranged by my Director. I was to be taken by vehicle to a small Airfield a few kilometres outside of Valeria where I am stationed. Valeria is a small one time agricultural rail-head township near the Hungarian border. Our KGB Office in Valeria is really just a converted large, ugly and intimidating three story grey concrete building. It was previously used by the local Party Directorate in the days when agriculture in
this area flourished. Salinity from over-fertilisation in trying desperately to please Government Officials on output had seen an end to that. Now it was a desert ghost town as far as agricultural industry goes. The ground had been cleared for miles for crops and now there was hardly a tree or blade of grass right to the horizon. It was supposed to be a secret that the KGB had taken over the township and its abandoned houses, but anyone still persisting in living anywhere near the district knew this building and abandoned houses were now being used by the KGB. Some 150 KGB Officers, some Senior and married with
children, worked and lived in the town and a massive octopus style signals receiving grid had been erected covering several hectares of previous agricultural land just behind our Office
building. How wouldn’t anyone with even half a brain know? Also the heavy "vetting" of all Visitors and necessary Cartage Contractors to the town by armed Guards at entry points also
implied on its own the town was more than just a quasi-secret area.
When I arrived at the Airfield I was to board a converted double seated MIG 29 Fighter Jet. Used now as a Jet Trainer. Then on arrival at Lenin Airfield, Moscow, another vehicle would be standing by to take me directly to KGB HQ. Just a street away from Red Square.
It all seemed to me to be rather rushed and therefore ominous?
I had been to KGB HQ before along with other KGB Recruits after our initial training for final briefing lectures before postings to various KGB localities. These lectures were mostly further indoctrination and a reinforcing of what rotten skulduggery the West was up to in the World. Then I was finally posted to Valeria to start my career. I had been glad to get away from HQ. Every Officer there was of very high rank, with a lot of General Officers about and all looked as if they would have you shot if you even looked the wrong way! The stern scowling faces they always presented seemed as if they had all come from the same mould
and had then been issued to them along with their epaulette stars.
Naturally, I was highly nervous. The Directive causing me some apprehension, as very few KGB Officers, who had been called back to KGB HQ in such haste, were ever seen again!
Some high ranking KGB Officers had been recently identified as working as Double Agents for the West. They had given up some of our very best well placed Western Spys as well as their KGB Handlers abroad. Some "Intercepts" from SIGINT Units (Signals and Telephone Intelligence Interception), had revealed code names that had been given to these Traitors by their Western Handlers and after Cipher Code breaking and further Cryptanalysis most of these secret cipher code names had been given a suspected "Identity. " Then, further circumstances of work environment, movements, places and times had led to confirmation of just who these KGB Officers actually were. Those of them who hadn’t already defected were arrested immediately and summarily executed after very fast Guilty convictions by a Military Tribunal.
Arrested this morning--executed by lunch time in the basement dungeons of KGB HQ! This was to show all KGB Officers the seriousness of their position and that there would be no mercy whatsoever for traitors!
During my flight to Moscow, even the friendly chatter with the pilot and the real thrill of it being my very first time in a MIG Fighter travelling at almost twice the speed of sound,
couldn’t over-ride the continuous urgent searching of my memory on just what it was I may have done wrong?
I couldn’t think of a single thing and that worried me even more as I wouldn’t have time to think up any reasonable defence against any charges if I needed to! I hoped if I had done
something seriously wrong my Father’s name might influence whatever the outcome in this instance?
The only relieving factor; I hadn’t been arrested as yet! However, that didn’t cancel out that I might still be arrested officially once I had landed in Moscow?
My main concern was, I had been privy to many Top Secret intercept documents sourced from SIGINT Units that had, after the Cipher Code Breakers and Cryptanalysists had made
them somewhat readable, come over my desk for my further analysis, conceptual observations, extensions and any considered further recommendations.
Maybe I hadn’t analysed something thoroughly enough that had been sent to me and the situation has caused a big problem somewhere? It can happen and those involved are not looked upon kindly if such Top Secret items have been past their eyes and treated as relatively unimportant. We are supposed to be very alert and infallible!
My K Division Director, Major Zhukov, had not let on earlier if this was the case? However, he may also have been under strict orders not to?
My main job on the Australian Desk had been to write a Report to my Director on my conceptual observations, along with at times any suggested extensions where the intercept was only partially decoded and my knowledge of English sometimes helping to give me the general gist of the message and what the missing, unable to be decoded words, might be, with regard to their importance. My recommendations if any for further action if required would also be attached. All this was in light of my understanding, not only of English and its many idioms, but my continuously growing and extensive knowledge now of the Australian Political Scene, both Federal, State and International Aspirations.
Finally, when I finished with the intercepts, I’d sign off on them to show that they had been actioned. Then all the original documents would be named, colour folder coded in order of
importance and sent off to D Division for filing.
Files or documents were never to be left on desks, or in work-trays overnight, or during the extended absence of an Officer from his office. It was a rule that had very serious
consequences if broken! Even in the luncheon break, if one was leaving his office, files were to be handed back into D Division for security with one’s ID attached to the front identifying the last “handler” outside D Division and then re-issued on one’s return. The system made it very simple for Internal Security to identify just who had handled what and when if the need ever arose.
Copies of my analysis Report would go to various other concerned KGB Divisions in the building via my K Division Director if he thought it pertinent, or if I had strongly recommended it. When this did occur, the other various KGB Divisions receiving same would then further action the Report in ways they thought prudent. Sometimes a copy would be passed on to Division C. Our KGB Intelligence Liaison Division. Who would in turn pass
this decoded Intelligence on to various other "friendly" Intelligence Organisations throughout the World, our own Intelligence Organisations included.
A lot of these Australian intercepts, in this final form would be given to the Indonesian Intelligence Services for their "actioning. " We knew Australia was going out of their way to get in good with Indonesia. So we would especially and purposely send these decoded intercepts on with glee, whenever our observations of them had shown at times the real
intentions of the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade towards Indonesia were really quite devious and totally one-sided in our considered opinion. This sharing of
Intelligence and supposed friendship also had the added benefit of giving our Russian Foreign Office a much easier pathway to top Indonesian Minister’s ears. This meant a lot in the areas of Arms Sales and Trade. The Australians and Americans were trying hard to corner this market in Indonesia for themselves.
If the Australian Government had known just what we had passed on so far to the Indonesians from our SIGINT Units intercepts, there would have been many very red faces within the Australian Parliament. The Australian Foreign Affairs and Trade Ministers who had thought they were being feted like Royalty by Indonesian Officials on their visits and therefore thought all was going over extremely well for the West. Was in fact, all an act and
they were being laughed at behind their backs by those same Indonesian Officials feting them. When a visiting Australian Minister cracked a joke with his Indonesian hosts, to show
Australians were really good fellows. The excess laughter that was tactfully and diplomatically extended on such occasions had a lot more behind it than the joke-tellers realised.
Most, but not all of the Australian Signals and Telephone Intercepts I had handled lately had come from a SIGINT Unit operating as an undercover Fishing Fleet Mother Ship. This ship,
literally bristling with the latest in electronic listening gear, was at anchor just below the Great Australian Bite and in waters recognised everywhere else around the World, other than
Australia, as being International Antarctic Waters. It was a very handy locality close to Australia with little to no obstruction and very clean air electronically compared to Europe, helping greatly in the purposes of gathering Australian Intelligence.
It had been a really big joke in the KGB when the Australian Federal Government, knowing of the presence of what they thought was a "fishing fleet mother ship" had tried to complain
at the UN that we were in the area poaching Patagonian Toothfish from an area they claimed as being within their Economic Zone! The only thing we had been poaching, were "Top
Secret Signals and Telephone Calls" out of, ASIS. (Australian Secret Intelligence Service), ASIO (Australian Security Intelligence Organisation), DSD (Defence Signals Directorate), JIO
(Joint Intelligence Organisation), their Armed Forces and Foreign Affairs and Trade Offices.
We did at times also receive intercepts from the same Ship SIGINT Unit coming out of a Top Secret Australian/American Installation known as Pine Gap. These intercepts were
mostly from American Personnel stationed there with their own Ciphers and Codes and our American Desk handled those after de-ciphering and cryptanalysis work.
This SIGINT Unit sent all intercepts to us at Valeria via Satellite in their "raw form." (This didn’t cause any alarm at all within Australia’s own SIGINT type Intelligence Units, as it would
have been considered normal noise of their own Signals being sent if intercepted by them. ) These raw form intercepts were then received by the massive Octopus Receiving Grid at the
rear of our building for actioning.
‘We’ll be landing in a couple of minutes’, the Pilot’s voice had suddenly crackled over theintercom.
I didn’t answer. In reaction to his voice I had stupidly nodded my head in reply to the rear of his seat without thinking. My mind was still working overtime.
When I did answer it was too late. The Pilot had already switched from internal voice only to outside broadcast and was now in the process of procedural chatter, identifying us, our
position and getting permission to land.
The MIG suddenly banked in a long falling turn as we approached our designated runway at Lenin Airfield. From this sudden angle I could now see the street lights of Moscow starting to blink on below us as nightfall started to creep over the city. Then as our nose dropped on the final approach, our designated runway lights suddenly came alive as two sparkling lines with a black centre all tapering off till they appeared almost to come to a point in the distance.
A slight bump and squeal of tyres confirmed we had touched down. Then came the loud roar from the MIG’s powerful jet engines as air brakes were applied. It wasn’t long then before the aircraft slowed to taxi speed and the Pilot steered the MIG off the runway and onto one of a number of smaller intersecting bitumen roadways. He then turned off that roadway again on to another that headed towards some buildings situated away from the main airfield complex.
From floodlights that had suddenly come on I could make out a black BMW parked near the buildings and obviously it was a KGB car waiting for us. As we taxied closer I could now see some waiting Ground Crew standing by with a mobile step ladder and my Driver now standing next to the car waiting for his passenger.
Finally the Pilot swivelled the MIG’s nose back to face the way we had come and then he brought the aircraft to a complete standstill just 20 metres away from the car.
The Ground crew moved forward with the step ladder and placed it against the side of the MIG’s fuselage for me to use to alight. A hydraulic hiss and the canopy over my head swung up away and slightly backwards. I unbuckled my safety belt and stood up breathing in the warm Moscow air.
One of the two Ground Crew now up on the ladder asked politely, ‘Good flight, Sir?’
I nodded and replied, ‘Absolutely fantastic!’
The Crew Member smiled broadly in return showing large square teeth in a ruddy and chubby thick lipped face and then he nodded quickly several times as much as to say, ‘we’re now both life members in the same MIG Jet Fighter appreciation Club.’
Hands then were suddenly helping me over the leading edge of the thingypit and on to the ladder. As soon as I was on the ground and clear the driver of my transport came up to me
and guided me back to an open car door. As I walked across the bitumen with him to the car I felt a very slight trembling in my legs. It may have been just a reaction to the fast flight in the MIG, but it was more likely from nerves as I could feel my stomach getting a little acidic.
The driver they had sent to pick me up looked like he could stop a train in its tracks. He was huge, totally bald and quite ugly. The black serge suit he had on looked stretched across the shoulders and overall too small for his bulk. His flat nosed features looked like those of a wrestler whose face had hit the mat too many times.
It was pretty obvious that when this fellow was sent to pick you up, he did the job!
I tried to start up a conversation with him as we headed out of the Airfield towards a side entry road and through an open barrier gateway. Armed Guards at the gate had looked at us
however, hadn’t attempted at all to stop us. Then we were away from the Airfield and onto the highway towards Moscow and KGB HQ.
My driver’s response to my attempted chatter had been a few rude grunts in reply that implied he was not too inclined to any small talk. Maybe he knew my fate and didn’t want to waste time with me? Then again, I had previously found this same gruff type response when I was last at KGB HQ. I wondered if I had been wearing my official uniform instead of mufti and showing I was a KGB Officer with the rank of Captain, if he would have treated me with a little more respect.
The KGB is different to our counterparts like MI5, CIA and in Australia ASIS as well as most others around the World in that we use Army Rankings for our Officers instead of Public Service Grades for rates of pay and promotion. We hardly ever wore our issued uniforms while working unless it was a very rare occasion of some Big Brass visiting our Complex and that was only for their sake so they didn’t make the embarrassing error of being friendly to Ranks who were far below them. A lot of KGB work is done in civilian clothing (Mufti) so as not to alert anyone just who we are in the field. At KGB HQ it is a completely different situation with Uniforms everywhere as there is no need to hide ones identity. The Main Building is even on the Tourist Itinerary.
‘And over here we have the KGB HQ Building.‘
Why they show it off to Tourists I have no idea as the Main Building is not noted for its architectural magnificence. Like a lot of huge drab blocky buildings in Moscow it is rather plain, dirty and overweight in that regard and like most official buildings it exudes its own unmistakable foreboding. The only brightness comes from our Russian Flag fluttering on an angled flagpole stationed just above the massive alcoved front entrance.
The same KGB Building and its large rear Complex suddenly loomed up in front of us and my Driver pulled up right in front. .
There were two impeccably dressed Guards in full dress uniform standing each side of the heavy oaken double doors. The Guards stood very stiffly to attention while holding their LMGs (Light Machine Guns) in the presentation stance and angled across their chests.
These Guards were not KGB and came from the Kremlin Guard, a Ceremonial Battalion whose duties covered guarding all Important Moscow buildings and often used for VIP welcomes when impressions were to be made at the Airport or when other important Ceremonies were performed. They were also very famous as photographic models for Tourists. Similar to the notoriety of the English Guards at Buckingham Palace in their red
uniforms and huge bear skin helmets, but we thought our Kremlin Guards in their grey dress uniforms and sharp red banded dress caps were much more immaculate looking overall.
I got out of the car and had expected to proceed by myself inside the building but my Driver was suddenly next to me making it plain his duty didn’t finish till I was in front of General
Chellenko.
There had been no attempt by the armed Guards stationed on the door to tell my Driver to shift the vehicle from the front entrance area so I guessed they had seen him many times
before doing this type of duty.
The Driver nodded his head at the entrance in an unspoken directive that we should proceed inside now.
I had never been through this front entry to KGB HQ before. When I was here last for our two day briefing lectures we had never entered this main building or even been asked to. We had come and then left again by vehicle from a different street and through another guarded iron gated opening at the rear of the high brick wall that extended from the rear sides of the main building to form a large oblong shaped enclosed compound. Inside this compound were several separated smaller boarding school style buildings. They were complete with their own lecture rooms, mess halls, kitchen, ablution blocks and bedrooms.
There were some other smaller buildings near the rear entrance that served as garages and housed the KGB Staff Cars. All these buildings opened out onto to a large central concrete slabbed parade ground where our Russian Flag was raised and lowered each day at Reveille and Retreat by the Kremlin Guards in dress uniform. It had been quite a sight to watch with all its austere pomp and ceremony performed by these very well trained Guards. As KGB Recruits we had all been made to go outside and stand to attention twice a day at the front of our assigned building during these "spectaculars. "
At the Driver’s urging I walked across the footpath and up two steps and on in under the alcove towards the Guards and with the Driver right on my heels. When we reached the massive oak doors I had expected one of the Guards to step forward and open one. Or at least challenge us. But they didn’t! The Guards stayed in their positions and my Driver opened a smaller door within the main door on one side. We both went on through and he closed the door behind us.
We were now within a reception hall area and it totally belied the building’s drab exterior. It was nothing at all like the horrid green interiors and dark wooden floors of the Barracks I had
stayed in before in the rear complex. This was a lot more brightly lit with white painted walls, large hung oil paintings, that mostly portrayed battle scenes and the bright lights hung from a high ceiling. On the reception floor different coloured polished marble had been tastefully laid with a large centralised inlaid circular KGB Insignia with the Red Russian Battle Star at its centre. Very similar to what I had seen in pictures of the circular American CIA Insignia on the reception floor at CIA HQ Langley, U. S. A. At the rear of the reception hall a long polished granite-fronted reception desk had modern glassed offices just behind it and there were two large bronze statues of Russian World War 2 Soldiers in poses of courage holding our Flag aloft in what suggested to be a very strong wind. These statues were positioned out of the general foot traffic area near the two side walls.
I could see only one lonely Security Guard on duty behind the reception desk and he also obviously recognised my Driver and just looked up at us without saying a word, much like the
exterior Guards had done.
My Driver spoke for the first time since his grunts to me in the car and it was still not much of an improvement.
‘Follow me,‘ he said gruffly.
He walked towards one end of the reception desk and on towards an archway that was an entrance to a long corridor.
I followed along dutifully as requested.
The nice white paint had suddenly disappeared now we were in the corridor along with the marbled floors and it was back to the horrid green walls and dark wooden floors again that I
remembered, although the floors were highly polished.
After following my Driver for what seemed through miles of corridors and past at least twenty interrogation and computer work offices, we were finally there.
My driver knocked on the glass partitioned office door and an equally gruff voice within that sswas a good match for the Driver’s, said, ‘Enter!’
This chapter may have some errors re spacings etc. The final chapter 1 has been done on a disk and final edited. I have written 13 Chapters so far.which is just over 60,000 words still
another 60,000 to go LOL.
When pasting here the paragraph headings didn't go in the two spacings and too much work to do to correct so sorry about that.
‘WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD! COMRADE!’
CHAPTER 1
MOSCOW BOUND
I had been ordered to Moscow immediately.
It was a KGB HQ Directive and could not be refused.
The Directive had come to me via Major Zhukov, K Division Director, Counter-Intelligence, KGB. My immediate Superior.
I had been working in K Division for nearly five years as a KGB Signals and Telephone Intercepts Analysis Officer stationed at the Australian Desk. I had been given the Australian Desk in K Division because of my ability to fully understand, read, write and speak the English language reasonably fluently.
In fact I had been taught English by the Australians at Murdoch University, Perth, Western Australia. On a three year Exchange Student Study Visa. The scheme had been promoted at the time by a Federal Labour Party Government 'Initiative for better "International Relations" with Russia.
I won the English Language, Political Science and Social Studies Exchange Scholarship out of several hundred other Russian Student finalists fair and square and not just because my
Father (now deceased. ) was General Uri Kharachev. A highly decorated and much respected Second World War hero. It had been implied by some disgruntled Students who had missed out on this fully paid trip to the West that my Father had influenced the outcome some way. However, I had already been involved with studies of the English language at High School, intending to use it as one of my credit units towards entry for a University Law
Degree. So it was logical that someone that already had a fair understanding of, and who could actually speak, basic English, would be chosen over those who couldn’t. The only
involvement my Father could be accused of in the whole affair was he had earlier pushed me in that direction, as he felt the future would reward those who could speak English as their
second language. I hope he was right?
When I look back now on those very enjoyable years spent in Australia, I can’t help a small laugh at the irony! If the Australian Government only knew just what I was using that Exchange Scholarship for now!
When Major Zhukov had called me into his office he had also emphasised the urgency of the Directive and that I should waste no time at all in reporting to a General Chellenko at KGB HQ, Moscow. General Chellenko was waiting for me and he wasn’t the sort of person who liked to be kept waiting. I have yet to meet a KGB Superior Officer who does!
Transport to Moscow had been quickly arranged by my Director. I was to be taken by vehicle to a small Airfield a few kilometres outside of Valeria where I am stationed. Valeria is a small one time agricultural rail-head township near the Hungarian border. Our KGB Office in Valeria is really just a converted large, ugly and intimidating three story grey concrete building. It was previously used by the local Party Directorate in the days when agriculture in
this area flourished. Salinity from over-fertilisation in trying desperately to please Government Officials on output had seen an end to that. Now it was a desert ghost town as far as agricultural industry goes. The ground had been cleared for miles for crops and now there was hardly a tree or blade of grass right to the horizon. It was supposed to be a secret that the KGB had taken over the township and its abandoned houses, but anyone still persisting in living anywhere near the district knew this building and abandoned houses were now being used by the KGB. Some 150 KGB Officers, some Senior and married with
children, worked and lived in the town and a massive octopus style signals receiving grid had been erected covering several hectares of previous agricultural land just behind our Office
building. How wouldn’t anyone with even half a brain know? Also the heavy "vetting" of all Visitors and necessary Cartage Contractors to the town by armed Guards at entry points also
implied on its own the town was more than just a quasi-secret area.
When I arrived at the Airfield I was to board a converted double seated MIG 29 Fighter Jet. Used now as a Jet Trainer. Then on arrival at Lenin Airfield, Moscow, another vehicle would be standing by to take me directly to KGB HQ. Just a street away from Red Square.
It all seemed to me to be rather rushed and therefore ominous?
I had been to KGB HQ before along with other KGB Recruits after our initial training for final briefing lectures before postings to various KGB localities. These lectures were mostly further indoctrination and a reinforcing of what rotten skulduggery the West was up to in the World. Then I was finally posted to Valeria to start my career. I had been glad to get away from HQ. Every Officer there was of very high rank, with a lot of General Officers about and all looked as if they would have you shot if you even looked the wrong way! The stern scowling faces they always presented seemed as if they had all come from the same mould
and had then been issued to them along with their epaulette stars.
Naturally, I was highly nervous. The Directive causing me some apprehension, as very few KGB Officers, who had been called back to KGB HQ in such haste, were ever seen again!
Some high ranking KGB Officers had been recently identified as working as Double Agents for the West. They had given up some of our very best well placed Western Spys as well as their KGB Handlers abroad. Some "Intercepts" from SIGINT Units (Signals and Telephone Intelligence Interception), had revealed code names that had been given to these Traitors by their Western Handlers and after Cipher Code breaking and further Cryptanalysis most of these secret cipher code names had been given a suspected "Identity. " Then, further circumstances of work environment, movements, places and times had led to confirmation of just who these KGB Officers actually were. Those of them who hadn’t already defected were arrested immediately and summarily executed after very fast Guilty convictions by a Military Tribunal.
Arrested this morning--executed by lunch time in the basement dungeons of KGB HQ! This was to show all KGB Officers the seriousness of their position and that there would be no mercy whatsoever for traitors!
During my flight to Moscow, even the friendly chatter with the pilot and the real thrill of it being my very first time in a MIG Fighter travelling at almost twice the speed of sound,
couldn’t over-ride the continuous urgent searching of my memory on just what it was I may have done wrong?
I couldn’t think of a single thing and that worried me even more as I wouldn’t have time to think up any reasonable defence against any charges if I needed to! I hoped if I had done
something seriously wrong my Father’s name might influence whatever the outcome in this instance?
The only relieving factor; I hadn’t been arrested as yet! However, that didn’t cancel out that I might still be arrested officially once I had landed in Moscow?
My main concern was, I had been privy to many Top Secret intercept documents sourced from SIGINT Units that had, after the Cipher Code Breakers and Cryptanalysists had made
them somewhat readable, come over my desk for my further analysis, conceptual observations, extensions and any considered further recommendations.
Maybe I hadn’t analysed something thoroughly enough that had been sent to me and the situation has caused a big problem somewhere? It can happen and those involved are not looked upon kindly if such Top Secret items have been past their eyes and treated as relatively unimportant. We are supposed to be very alert and infallible!
My K Division Director, Major Zhukov, had not let on earlier if this was the case? However, he may also have been under strict orders not to?
My main job on the Australian Desk had been to write a Report to my Director on my conceptual observations, along with at times any suggested extensions where the intercept was only partially decoded and my knowledge of English sometimes helping to give me the general gist of the message and what the missing, unable to be decoded words, might be, with regard to their importance. My recommendations if any for further action if required would also be attached. All this was in light of my understanding, not only of English and its many idioms, but my continuously growing and extensive knowledge now of the Australian Political Scene, both Federal, State and International Aspirations.
Finally, when I finished with the intercepts, I’d sign off on them to show that they had been actioned. Then all the original documents would be named, colour folder coded in order of
importance and sent off to D Division for filing.
Files or documents were never to be left on desks, or in work-trays overnight, or during the extended absence of an Officer from his office. It was a rule that had very serious
consequences if broken! Even in the luncheon break, if one was leaving his office, files were to be handed back into D Division for security with one’s ID attached to the front identifying the last “handler” outside D Division and then re-issued on one’s return. The system made it very simple for Internal Security to identify just who had handled what and when if the need ever arose.
Copies of my analysis Report would go to various other concerned KGB Divisions in the building via my K Division Director if he thought it pertinent, or if I had strongly recommended it. When this did occur, the other various KGB Divisions receiving same would then further action the Report in ways they thought prudent. Sometimes a copy would be passed on to Division C. Our KGB Intelligence Liaison Division. Who would in turn pass
this decoded Intelligence on to various other "friendly" Intelligence Organisations throughout the World, our own Intelligence Organisations included.
A lot of these Australian intercepts, in this final form would be given to the Indonesian Intelligence Services for their "actioning. " We knew Australia was going out of their way to get in good with Indonesia. So we would especially and purposely send these decoded intercepts on with glee, whenever our observations of them had shown at times the real
intentions of the Australian Department of Foreign Affairs and Trade towards Indonesia were really quite devious and totally one-sided in our considered opinion. This sharing of
Intelligence and supposed friendship also had the added benefit of giving our Russian Foreign Office a much easier pathway to top Indonesian Minister’s ears. This meant a lot in the areas of Arms Sales and Trade. The Australians and Americans were trying hard to corner this market in Indonesia for themselves.
If the Australian Government had known just what we had passed on so far to the Indonesians from our SIGINT Units intercepts, there would have been many very red faces within the Australian Parliament. The Australian Foreign Affairs and Trade Ministers who had thought they were being feted like Royalty by Indonesian Officials on their visits and therefore thought all was going over extremely well for the West. Was in fact, all an act and
they were being laughed at behind their backs by those same Indonesian Officials feting them. When a visiting Australian Minister cracked a joke with his Indonesian hosts, to show
Australians were really good fellows. The excess laughter that was tactfully and diplomatically extended on such occasions had a lot more behind it than the joke-tellers realised.
Most, but not all of the Australian Signals and Telephone Intercepts I had handled lately had come from a SIGINT Unit operating as an undercover Fishing Fleet Mother Ship. This ship,
literally bristling with the latest in electronic listening gear, was at anchor just below the Great Australian Bite and in waters recognised everywhere else around the World, other than
Australia, as being International Antarctic Waters. It was a very handy locality close to Australia with little to no obstruction and very clean air electronically compared to Europe, helping greatly in the purposes of gathering Australian Intelligence.
It had been a really big joke in the KGB when the Australian Federal Government, knowing of the presence of what they thought was a "fishing fleet mother ship" had tried to complain
at the UN that we were in the area poaching Patagonian Toothfish from an area they claimed as being within their Economic Zone! The only thing we had been poaching, were "Top
Secret Signals and Telephone Calls" out of, ASIS. (Australian Secret Intelligence Service), ASIO (Australian Security Intelligence Organisation), DSD (Defence Signals Directorate), JIO
(Joint Intelligence Organisation), their Armed Forces and Foreign Affairs and Trade Offices.
We did at times also receive intercepts from the same Ship SIGINT Unit coming out of a Top Secret Australian/American Installation known as Pine Gap. These intercepts were
mostly from American Personnel stationed there with their own Ciphers and Codes and our American Desk handled those after de-ciphering and cryptanalysis work.
This SIGINT Unit sent all intercepts to us at Valeria via Satellite in their "raw form." (This didn’t cause any alarm at all within Australia’s own SIGINT type Intelligence Units, as it would
have been considered normal noise of their own Signals being sent if intercepted by them. ) These raw form intercepts were then received by the massive Octopus Receiving Grid at the
rear of our building for actioning.
‘We’ll be landing in a couple of minutes’, the Pilot’s voice had suddenly crackled over theintercom.
I didn’t answer. In reaction to his voice I had stupidly nodded my head in reply to the rear of his seat without thinking. My mind was still working overtime.
When I did answer it was too late. The Pilot had already switched from internal voice only to outside broadcast and was now in the process of procedural chatter, identifying us, our
position and getting permission to land.
The MIG suddenly banked in a long falling turn as we approached our designated runway at Lenin Airfield. From this sudden angle I could now see the street lights of Moscow starting to blink on below us as nightfall started to creep over the city. Then as our nose dropped on the final approach, our designated runway lights suddenly came alive as two sparkling lines with a black centre all tapering off till they appeared almost to come to a point in the distance.
A slight bump and squeal of tyres confirmed we had touched down. Then came the loud roar from the MIG’s powerful jet engines as air brakes were applied. It wasn’t long then before the aircraft slowed to taxi speed and the Pilot steered the MIG off the runway and onto one of a number of smaller intersecting bitumen roadways. He then turned off that roadway again on to another that headed towards some buildings situated away from the main airfield complex.
From floodlights that had suddenly come on I could make out a black BMW parked near the buildings and obviously it was a KGB car waiting for us. As we taxied closer I could now see some waiting Ground Crew standing by with a mobile step ladder and my Driver now standing next to the car waiting for his passenger.
Finally the Pilot swivelled the MIG’s nose back to face the way we had come and then he brought the aircraft to a complete standstill just 20 metres away from the car.
The Ground crew moved forward with the step ladder and placed it against the side of the MIG’s fuselage for me to use to alight. A hydraulic hiss and the canopy over my head swung up away and slightly backwards. I unbuckled my safety belt and stood up breathing in the warm Moscow air.
One of the two Ground Crew now up on the ladder asked politely, ‘Good flight, Sir?’
I nodded and replied, ‘Absolutely fantastic!’
The Crew Member smiled broadly in return showing large square teeth in a ruddy and chubby thick lipped face and then he nodded quickly several times as much as to say, ‘we’re now both life members in the same MIG Jet Fighter appreciation Club.’
Hands then were suddenly helping me over the leading edge of the thingypit and on to the ladder. As soon as I was on the ground and clear the driver of my transport came up to me
and guided me back to an open car door. As I walked across the bitumen with him to the car I felt a very slight trembling in my legs. It may have been just a reaction to the fast flight in the MIG, but it was more likely from nerves as I could feel my stomach getting a little acidic.
The driver they had sent to pick me up looked like he could stop a train in its tracks. He was huge, totally bald and quite ugly. The black serge suit he had on looked stretched across the shoulders and overall too small for his bulk. His flat nosed features looked like those of a wrestler whose face had hit the mat too many times.
It was pretty obvious that when this fellow was sent to pick you up, he did the job!
I tried to start up a conversation with him as we headed out of the Airfield towards a side entry road and through an open barrier gateway. Armed Guards at the gate had looked at us
however, hadn’t attempted at all to stop us. Then we were away from the Airfield and onto the highway towards Moscow and KGB HQ.
My driver’s response to my attempted chatter had been a few rude grunts in reply that implied he was not too inclined to any small talk. Maybe he knew my fate and didn’t want to waste time with me? Then again, I had previously found this same gruff type response when I was last at KGB HQ. I wondered if I had been wearing my official uniform instead of mufti and showing I was a KGB Officer with the rank of Captain, if he would have treated me with a little more respect.
The KGB is different to our counterparts like MI5, CIA and in Australia ASIS as well as most others around the World in that we use Army Rankings for our Officers instead of Public Service Grades for rates of pay and promotion. We hardly ever wore our issued uniforms while working unless it was a very rare occasion of some Big Brass visiting our Complex and that was only for their sake so they didn’t make the embarrassing error of being friendly to Ranks who were far below them. A lot of KGB work is done in civilian clothing (Mufti) so as not to alert anyone just who we are in the field. At KGB HQ it is a completely different situation with Uniforms everywhere as there is no need to hide ones identity. The Main Building is even on the Tourist Itinerary.
‘And over here we have the KGB HQ Building.‘
Why they show it off to Tourists I have no idea as the Main Building is not noted for its architectural magnificence. Like a lot of huge drab blocky buildings in Moscow it is rather plain, dirty and overweight in that regard and like most official buildings it exudes its own unmistakable foreboding. The only brightness comes from our Russian Flag fluttering on an angled flagpole stationed just above the massive alcoved front entrance.
The same KGB Building and its large rear Complex suddenly loomed up in front of us and my Driver pulled up right in front. .
There were two impeccably dressed Guards in full dress uniform standing each side of the heavy oaken double doors. The Guards stood very stiffly to attention while holding their LMGs (Light Machine Guns) in the presentation stance and angled across their chests.
These Guards were not KGB and came from the Kremlin Guard, a Ceremonial Battalion whose duties covered guarding all Important Moscow buildings and often used for VIP welcomes when impressions were to be made at the Airport or when other important Ceremonies were performed. They were also very famous as photographic models for Tourists. Similar to the notoriety of the English Guards at Buckingham Palace in their red
uniforms and huge bear skin helmets, but we thought our Kremlin Guards in their grey dress uniforms and sharp red banded dress caps were much more immaculate looking overall.
I got out of the car and had expected to proceed by myself inside the building but my Driver was suddenly next to me making it plain his duty didn’t finish till I was in front of General
Chellenko.
There had been no attempt by the armed Guards stationed on the door to tell my Driver to shift the vehicle from the front entrance area so I guessed they had seen him many times
before doing this type of duty.
The Driver nodded his head at the entrance in an unspoken directive that we should proceed inside now.
I had never been through this front entry to KGB HQ before. When I was here last for our two day briefing lectures we had never entered this main building or even been asked to. We had come and then left again by vehicle from a different street and through another guarded iron gated opening at the rear of the high brick wall that extended from the rear sides of the main building to form a large oblong shaped enclosed compound. Inside this compound were several separated smaller boarding school style buildings. They were complete with their own lecture rooms, mess halls, kitchen, ablution blocks and bedrooms.
There were some other smaller buildings near the rear entrance that served as garages and housed the KGB Staff Cars. All these buildings opened out onto to a large central concrete slabbed parade ground where our Russian Flag was raised and lowered each day at Reveille and Retreat by the Kremlin Guards in dress uniform. It had been quite a sight to watch with all its austere pomp and ceremony performed by these very well trained Guards. As KGB Recruits we had all been made to go outside and stand to attention twice a day at the front of our assigned building during these "spectaculars. "
At the Driver’s urging I walked across the footpath and up two steps and on in under the alcove towards the Guards and with the Driver right on my heels. When we reached the massive oak doors I had expected one of the Guards to step forward and open one. Or at least challenge us. But they didn’t! The Guards stayed in their positions and my Driver opened a smaller door within the main door on one side. We both went on through and he closed the door behind us.
We were now within a reception hall area and it totally belied the building’s drab exterior. It was nothing at all like the horrid green interiors and dark wooden floors of the Barracks I had
stayed in before in the rear complex. This was a lot more brightly lit with white painted walls, large hung oil paintings, that mostly portrayed battle scenes and the bright lights hung from a high ceiling. On the reception floor different coloured polished marble had been tastefully laid with a large centralised inlaid circular KGB Insignia with the Red Russian Battle Star at its centre. Very similar to what I had seen in pictures of the circular American CIA Insignia on the reception floor at CIA HQ Langley, U. S. A. At the rear of the reception hall a long polished granite-fronted reception desk had modern glassed offices just behind it and there were two large bronze statues of Russian World War 2 Soldiers in poses of courage holding our Flag aloft in what suggested to be a very strong wind. These statues were positioned out of the general foot traffic area near the two side walls.
I could see only one lonely Security Guard on duty behind the reception desk and he also obviously recognised my Driver and just looked up at us without saying a word, much like the
exterior Guards had done.
My Driver spoke for the first time since his grunts to me in the car and it was still not much of an improvement.
‘Follow me,‘ he said gruffly.
He walked towards one end of the reception desk and on towards an archway that was an entrance to a long corridor.
I followed along dutifully as requested.
The nice white paint had suddenly disappeared now we were in the corridor along with the marbled floors and it was back to the horrid green walls and dark wooden floors again that I
remembered, although the floors were highly polished.
After following my Driver for what seemed through miles of corridors and past at least twenty interrogation and computer work offices, we were finally there.
My driver knocked on the glass partitioned office door and an equally gruff voice within that sswas a good match for the Driver’s, said, ‘Enter!’
